Blood On Her Hands

Chapter 48

My hair was a tangle of wavy knots and a scrunchie that hung on for dear life. I pried the thing off of my hair. It took several black strands with it, making my scalp sting. Cupping my hands underneath the sink's faucet, I tried to use the water to tame the frizz and detangle. By the time I was finished with that, the police station's bathroom mirror brought my makeup to attention. My eyeliner was smudged, my mascara clumpy from crying. My lips were back to their normal deep pink shade and whatever foundation that was left did little to conceal how blotchy my skin was.

I washed it all off and let the product run down the drain in a black trail.

When I finished patting my face dry with the scratchy, brown paper towels, I was taken aback by my reflection. I was always of the belief that sometimes a bare face could be more of a statement than one that was done up. Whenever a model or celebrity shared a candid photo of themselves without any of their usual extravagance, they seemed starkly naked. Bare. Different.

I knew it wasn't just removing the makeup that had made my reflection seem so drastically altered. It was something else, maybe something that was leaking out from inside.

I was using the same bathroom I had the night of Nancy's wedding. I had washed Adonis's blood off my arms in this very sink. This time, I wasn't covered in blood, his or my mother's. I knew I wasn't. Other people were. I was waiting for one of them.

After my quick visit to him, Darren told detectives about Nancy's whereabouts. She was found and going to be brought to the station to get a full confession out of her.

"She should be arriving any minute," Vincent said. He was as fatigued as I was with the front section of his hair fanning out in all different directions and his wrinkled button up.

"We can give you a second to speak to her before she goes in." Kyra was sitting at a desk behind Vincent. Her comically large mug was filled with black coffee and she looked the best out of all of us. "It's the least we can do after how you've helped us."

"I'll only need a few minutes," I said. Flashes of red and blue light were bathing the station in their colors. It was the evening and the sun had set, making their hues stand out in the darkness. Somehow, I knew it was Nancy in the cop car. A mix of thoughts flooded my head, all of them clashing. I worried for her safety and wanted to make sure she wasn't being mishandled by any officers but I also wanted her to be as frightened as she had made all this time.

Nancy was wearing a cardigan that was supposed to be mine. I ordered it online and it fit too small so I gave it to her.  It was yellow and brown with sunflowers in little crocheted squares. Her hair was in a tight ponytail and her eyes were darting around the whole station. When she located me she visibly relaxed.

"Thank God you're here. Can you tell them that I have no idea what's going on?"

The police that had detained her stopped her right in front of me on Kyra's command. Nancy didn't seem surprised that Vincent was standing next to me. She didn't pay any mind to him at all.

"Nancy, we spoke to dad. They know everything. It's over."

The pouty, sisterly expression fell from her face quicker than I could blink. Her thinly plucked eyebrows pulled downwards into a wrathful scowl. She transformed into the sister that cut my roses and slept with my boyfriend.  She became the sister that made me so insecure that I changed my mind about going out with Adonis.  It would have been so much easier to see the side of her had she not also been the sister who comforted me when my heart was broken and made sure that no one hurt me -aside from her.

"I'm your sister!" she roared. The officer holding her braced himself though she hadn't made a lunge at me. "I'm pregnant! What the hell is wrong with you?"