The screeching tires echoed through the dimly lit parking lot, punctuating the cold, silent air. As Vivian entered, the metallic roar of engines filled the space, echoing off the walls like a menacing chorus. Four sleek, black jeeps sped in, closing in on her from all sides, forming a tight circle. The sudden onslaught of honking horns and blaring sirens battered her ears, each sound sharper and louder than the last.
Vivian's heart raced. Moments ago, she had been wrestling with Max's proposal, the weight of his words still pressing on her chest. Now, this sudden confrontation felt like a blow she wasn't prepared for. Panic surged within her as the doors of the nearest jeep flung open. Sarah Blake stepped out, flanked by two officers, stun guns in their hands, their faces cold and unreadable.
Vivian's pulse quickened, her breath growing shallow. Her mind raced, struggling to process the scene. She darted glances to her left, right, and behind, but everywhere she looked, there were figures closing in on her like a pack of predators stalking prey. She was trapped. She felt like a lone wolf, cornered, hopeless.
Sarah's eyes, steely and unrelenting, locked onto Vivian. She took a step forward, her voice slicing through the cacophony, "Vivian Donovan. You are under suspicion for murder."
Vivian's body stiffened. "I told you," her voice broke through in a frantic shout, "Don't come near me without a warrant!" Her words reverberated through the air, but there was no hesitation in Sarah's advance.
The stun gun remained aimed as Sarah approached. Vivian, instinctively backing away, felt the cold metal of her car's side mirror graze her back. She flinched, fear jolting her very senses. In that moment of distraction, Sarah lunged. Her grip was iron, slamming Vivian's body against the car with a force that left her breathless. Pain shot up her spine as her hands were yanked behind her and cuffed, the cold steel biting into her wrists, creating scar in all her struggle to set herself free
Vivian thrashed like a fish out of water, her mind in a haze. "Let me go!" she screeched, her voice shrill, trembling with fear and confusion. The image of Max flashed before her eyes—him holding the sleeping Ava, his gentle voice asking for a future—and now this nightmare, too fast and too harsh.
Tears blurred her vision. "What have I done?" she sobbed, her voice cracking as she struggled, her knees buckling. But Sarah's grip did not falter. Her voice was methodical, detached, as she recited, "Vivian Donovan, you are under arrest for the murder of Mr. Albert Donovan. You have the right to remain silent—"
Rest of the words went numb she could hear no more. The words that Sarah just spoke, sliced through Vivian's mind like a knife. Her body went rigid as she heard the name.
Albert Donovan.
Murder suspect.
Albert.
Her ears roared, drowning out the rest of Sarah's words. The parking lot blurred around her as memories of Albert's helpless face flashed before her eyes—his sad, pleading gaze, his fragile demeanor.
How? Why?
Her chest tightened. "Albert…" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. "Albert…" Her head swam, and she could no longer feel her own body. The sound of Sarah's voice faded into a distant hum. She stopped struggling.
"What happened to Albert?" Vivian's voice cracked as she spoke again, weaker now, her words like broken glass. "What happened to him?" she cried out, but no one answered.
"I said, what happened to Albert?" Her voice trembled, rising in panic, but still, there was silence. The officers around her exchanged glances, their faces blank.
Desperation boiled over. "SARAH!" she screamed, her voice erupting with raw agony.
Sarah Blake froze. For a brief second, she felt a chill crawl down her body, rocking her very soul. Vivian's cry had shattered something within her, the pain and terror so palpable, it left her shaken. She turned to face Vivian, her grip tightening on the cuffs as if it were the only thing grounding her in the moment.
"He's dead," Sarah's voice was barely a whisper, almost too soft for the harsh scene around them. It hung in the air like a stone, heavy and suffocating.
Vivian's knees buckled beneath her as the words hit her. Her body collapsed to the ground, the weight of those two words breaking her in ways she never thought possible. Her mind spiraled, unable to accept it—Albert, dead? No, this wasn't real, this couldn't be real. Her heart raced, each beat painful and jagged as her world closed in around her.
"Vivian, stop struggling, you will only hurt yourself! " Sarah said, her tone losing its authority, now laced with something close to pity. Maya, one of the officers, knelt beside her to help her stand. Together, they lifted her into the car, her body limp, her mind lost in a storm of grief and confusion.
The drive to the station was silent, but inside the car, Sarah was far from calm. She had wanted this for so long, had been so sure of her steps, of her investigation, but now—seeing Vivian's collapse, hearing the pain in her voice—something gnawed at her. Doubt crept in, like a shadow she couldn't shake.
She stared out the window, her jaw clenched tight. The case was closed, wasn't it? Vivian Donovan, the murderer of Albert Donovan. Yet why did she feel so unsettled? Why did she feel like something wasn't right?
Vivian sat, motionless, her hands still bound, her eyes staring blankly ahead. She was not struggling anymore… Inside, her heart was in freefall. She was not thinking anything. She was totally blank and in a trance like state.
And though Sarah had finally captured the woman she had been chasing for so long, the victory was hollow. There was no triumph, only a deep, gnawing unease. She thought she had found the killer. But the truth, it seemed, was far more elusive than she had imagined.