Chapter 2 - Mahalia

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The serene chirping of birds was all that could be heard as Jaslin and Summers, the elderly nanny, stared at the dazed girl before them.

Jaslin regained her composure. "Yes, you're Qaya, Mahalia Qaya Heris…is something wrong with you? Nanny, she's acting rather strange."

Summers nodded feverishly, worry evident on her face. "Young Lady Heris, are you well? You can tell me what's going on. After all, you always tell me everything."

Despite their nervous probing, the girl remained quiet, staring into the mirror. Her gaze suddenly darkened.

"Mahalia, are you—"

"Get out." At first, it seemed like she was muttering to herself, but Jaslin and Nanny Summers heard her clearly, which only worried them more.

"Get out!!" This time, they didn't wait for any further words; they walked out, with Jaslin saying she would call the doctor and bring food.

"What sorcery is going on? How is this even possible? Is this a dream?" These questions filled her mind. She managed to get up from the bed and walked over to the mirror, touching her face as if to inspect if it was real.

"Gosh, am I going mad? Think, Qaya, think. How did I end up looking like this, and where's the actual Mahalia?" She paced back and forth, trying to get a clue when it suddenly dawned on her.

"My dying thoughts," she thought and plopped onto the bed in shock and exasperation. "I remember saying something about being a whole new person, but I meant it figuratively… I didn't even mean it." She groaned and turned in the bed.

"…And why the daughter of Marie Heris of all people?"

There was a knock on the door; it was Jaslin, accompanied by some maids who rolled in a tray of food.

"I just got off the phone with the doctor. He won't be able to come right away; the bridge at the market collapsed. But he advised you to have soft foods for now and to take it easy," Jaslin rambled, telling Mahalia to take care of herself.

"What's going on?" Mahalia interrupted.

"What are you talking about?"

"You tell me! I'm confused; I woke up like this, and everything seems so crazy."

Jaslin sighed and dropped the serving spoon she was holding. "Mahalia, I don't want to make your pain feel insignificant by saying I know how you feel, but I've always wanted you to know that I'm here for you. So…why did you do what you did?"

"What are you talking about?" Qaya was confused, and Jaslin was only compounding things.

"So you don't remember? Or are you choosing not to? You were so obsessed with uncovering some myth that you ended up in an accident. You suffered brain trauma and have been in a coma for two years. Do you remember now?" Jaslin was shedding tears, and the maids looked heartbroken as they recollected the sad past. "For two years, I waited religiously for you to wake up. I've had to hold up on my own while you were so obsessed with forbidden alchemy…Aunt Marie was falsely accused two months ago, and she's in prison now, Mahalia. It hasn't been easy…I…"

"Jaslin! That's enough." Mahalia reached out and took hold of Jaslin. "Calm down. Remember, I'm a patient." Mahalia's tone was concerned rather than scolding because she knew Jaslin's outburst was something the latter hadn't planned. She'd done enough investigation on the entire Heris Household to know Jaslin truly didn't have things easy. Jaslin was shouldering a lot of responsibility without the privileges of being Marie's biological daughter.

"Forgive me, Mahalia. I thought I could be stronger and accept my duty, but I see now I'm so selfish that I don't know my place. Forgive me…to think I could lash out at you."

Mahalia frowned and cupped Jaslin's face. "Never think that. You have the right to be angry, so don't castigate yourself. Given all that's happened, I now understand that my fixation on my goals has hurt so many people. Jaslin, I promise that I'll do better. I'll be considerate of you—of everyone."

Qaya meant every word. She had been given a second chance at life, and she intended to atone for her sins and be a better person. After their heartfelt reunion, Jaslin fed her cousin, noticing the latter was in deep thought.

"Is something the matter? Or is the food not to your liking?"

Mahalia shook her head. "The food is perfect. I'm just thinking about Ma—mother. You said she was imprisoned two months ago. Who…um…framed her?" In truth, Qaya was curious about the timing—was it two months since she had died?

"Oh, Madam Heris was framed by the king through some media vulture known as Qaya Wright."

"And where's this Wright character?" Mahalia asked, trying to sound angry.

"She was murdered the day after the Madam was imprisoned. If you ask me, I think the king was done using her and got rid of her."

Qaya nodded, considering that possibility. After all, the king had lied to her about the meeting in Milton's house, but she was certain Melinda was there. Mahalia looked at her cousin, struggling for words.

"You suspecting the king makes me feel like no one was apprehended for the murder."

"There was an arrest. Her corpse was found on Sir Milton's estate, but Sir Milton isn't the type to do such a thing. I think the king was trying to kill two birds with one stone."

Mahalia nodded knowingly, her calm demeanor hiding a seething anger. Jaslin looked at her, concerned. "You just woke up, and you're asking about that girl. Is something the matter?"

Qaya bit her lip and pushed her food aside.

"I can't just tell her I'm the girl who was murdered and somehow I'm in her beloved cousin's body. First, that sounds crazy, and even if she believes me, given how I've impacted the family, I don't think she'd be too happy about it," she thought.

"I'm not curious at all. I was just asking. I think Sir Milton is innocent…so, let's help him."

Jaslin raised an eyebrow and quickly checked Mahalia's temperature. "I think you need to rest."

Despite Mahalia's protests, Jaslin hurried out of the room.

Qaya slumped back into her bed. She had to do something. Her murderer had to be caught, no matter what.

"What if it's the king?" a voice within her asked. "I can't punish him by law, but I can get back at him in my own way."

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A Week Later

The outdoor café of Hellion House of Recreation

Mahalia nervously fiddled with her teaspoon as she waited. She couldn't help but giggle when she remembered how angry Jaslin had been about her intentions, especially when Mahalia had begged on her knees before Jaslin finally agreed. It had been a week since she'd woken up in this new body, and it felt so refreshing to be out and about again, no longer treated as a patient.

What excited her more was being in Hellion House—the hub where the nobility gathered. No matter how wealthy she had been before, being a commoner had never granted her entry. Now, to her surprise, she had a lifetime membership.

"Are you the young lady of the Heris household?" a woman's warm yet stern voice asked.

Mahalia looked up and smiled.

"Yes, nice to meet you, Doyenne Rachel," she extended her hand for a handshake.

The woman ignored the gesture but nodded curtly. "I got your letter, and that's why I'm here. However, my schedule is tight, so let's get straight to the point."

Mahalia chuckled, undisturbed by the Doyenne's refusal to shake her hand. After all, it was well-known that Rachel was borderline sociopathic.

"Okay, then. Have you heard of the murder case of Qaya Wright? I'm interested in it."

Rachel paused, inspecting Mahalia's face carefully. Mahalia could tell she had piqued her interest.

"I want you to help me investigate the murder and… defend Milton."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "On what grounds? You're not related to the man."

Mahalia leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting. "Let's say I'm a benefactor, and I can't stand the idea of an innocent man being framed while the real culprit roams free."

"You think he's framed?"

Mahalia's smile turned knowing. "Isn't it obvious? Only a fool would believe otherwise. A man known for his piety kills someone and doesn't even bother to hide the body? It's all too disconcerting. Don't you think so, Doyenne Rachel?"

"What if he's the perpetrator?"

"I highly doubt it. But if he did kill her, then there's no question about it: he must be punished." Mahalia leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "I see what's going on. You don't want to lose the case."

Rachel averted her gaze, slightly embarrassed by how easily Mahalia had read her. "That's normal. No one wants failure."

Mahalia's gaze sharpened. "True, but I think there are a few people out there who care more about their reputation than the dispensation of justice, don't you agree?"

Rachel sighed, taking a sip of her tea. "Give me something in exchange."

"I've thought of that already," Mahalia said confidently. "I'll offer you something after you lose."

Rachel's brow furrowed. "What exactly is it?"

Mahalia shook her head with a sly smile. "How about we sign a promise? I'll offer you satisfactory compensation should you lose, and then you can decide if it's enough."

Rachel scoffed, clearly amused by Mahalia's boldness. But the younger woman's confidence reassured her. "I'll put my trust in you, then."

"Excellent choice," Mahalia said, signaling for the bill. "And one more thing. I'd like to attend Milton's interrogation."

Once she had settled the bill, Mahalia gracefully curtsied and turned to leave when Rachel spoke again.

"You're so certain Milton is innocent. You didn't plan anything to give me, did you?"

"Doyenne Rachel, you make me sound like a scoundrel. Be sure I won't try to dupe you."

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The Interrogation Room

The small room was only lit by a high window, and everything felt murky and grim. Milton punched the wall in fury. He couldn't believe he—of all people—was in prison, and it was all because of the king.

"I used to be respected. I never directly opposed the king, even with his disgusting tyranny. I did my best behind the scenes to be a good leader, but now everything's tainted. The whole world calls me a murderer. Even my own family has abandoned me. Awin, pray I die here. Even if I get a second chance, I will ruin you, just as you've ruined me."

Clang.

The prison door swung open, and an uninterested warden motioned for him to follow. "Your lawyer's here to speak with you."

Milton's face lit up. Had his family realized he was innocent and decided to help him? "Maybe there's hope," he thought.

But he was slightly disappointed. In the interrogation room were two women: the older one he recognized as the esteemed Doyenne Rachel. He felt somewhat relieved but still uncertain about the second woman, who exuded a commanding presence. She must have been the one who had employed Rachel.

Milton sat down cautiously and greeted them.

"I'm Mahalia Qaya Heris, Doyenne Marie's daughter. I'm helping my mother's friend."

"You woke up from your coma?" Rachel asked.

"As you can see, yes. I'm certain you've been framed, so we'll make sure you win your trial. We just need your cooperation. Can you tell us everything you know?"

Milton nodded. "I don't know much, to be honest. The allegations came out of nowhere."

Rachel rubbed her temples. "Do you have an alibi? Someone who can vouch for you?"

"I'm not sure. Melinda Charmale, we were working on a project, and she suddenly suggested we take a break. We had some wine, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, everyone was accusing me of murder."

"Did anyone see you kill Miss Wright?"

Milton shook his head. "I doubt it. I didn't kill anyone. They arrested me because her body was found on my estate."

"Why do you think she was there?" Rachel asked.

"I have no idea."

Rachel sighed and jotted down a few notes. She looked up and turned to Mahalia. "This Melinda Charmale—what would you say about her character?"

"When I met her, she was zealous about doing the right thing and opposing the king's tyranny. But over time, she started acting differently. Still, I don't think she's the type to frame me."

Rachel scoffed and turned to Mahalia, who gave a knowing smirk.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Mahalia said. "I assure you, you'll be acquitted."

"Thank you, Doyenne Rachel. And thank you, Mahalia. I hope your mother is also acquitted."

Mahalia nodded, but a bitter expression crossed her face at Milton's words.

To be continued…