chasec̷h̷a̷s̷e̷c̴̢̦̘̽͝͝ḧ̴̡̫͙́̾ä̴̟̘́̔͠s̵͎̞̓̀e̵͙͙̫̒̀͝

34 4 1
                                    

 "I've never seen a commercial about visiting Nebraska," Ysabel said, stuffing her bags into the back seat of Alex's Soul. She closed the door, stretching into the early morning air, dark circles underneath her eyes. "It feels like we've been driving forever. . .are we getting to San Francisco yet?"

"First off," Alex responded, shutting the back of his car, "no, I've never seen commercials about Nebraska either. I mean, it really isn't that weird. There's nothing to do here but grow corn."

"That's a little rude," Ysabel teased, getting into the passenger's seat and sorting out the coffees they had grabbed when getting gas earlier. It had been an entire day since the call with Vincent and they had stayed in Kearny, Nebraska with no further updates.

Alex rolled his eyes, sitting in the driver's seat and starting the car as they headed out onto the open road for the third day in a row. "We're also not traveling to San Francisco. We're headed to Salt Lake City first."

Ysabel nodded, sipping on her coffee and watching the car move onto the highway. "I've never been to Utah. . .have you and Henrietta ever been? Like in your childhood?"

Alex's hand stiffened, but he slid his eyes over to Ysabel for a moment, quickly nodding. "Henrietta doesn't answer your questions or something?"

"She doesn't like to talk about it," Ysabel responded, gazing out the darkened window, propping her head up with the palm of her hand, her long sleeved shirt covering a few of her fingers. "Henri is. . .very guarded. . .like the rest of your family, Alex. Why is that?"

"Why?" Alex asked in response, snorting. "Because we're related to an oil tycoon who was head hunted in the early 19th century? Dad's more than likely laundering money to some offshore bank account? You've read the news, Ysabel. You should already know that."

She was quiet, the road passing them by minute by minute, until she peaked back over at Alex. "Of course I've been around those rumors, Alex. . .Henrietta, she. . .she just never answers my questions about them."

Maybe I was too harsh, Alex mulled over in his head, an image of his sister flashing in his eyelids, her dull emerald retinas boring holes into Alex's soul. "We never got along," Alex began, Ysabel snapping her attention to him, "Henrietta's five years older than me, so we never had the chance to get along." He shifted in the seat, switching lanes to be closer to the fast lane, preparing for the traffic they'll face later on. "We grew up with our parents traveling quite a bit, so my only relationship was with the Nanny's."

"Henrietta said Ursula was her favorite," Ysabel chimed in, laughing.

A smile split onto Alex's face and he rolled his eyes once more. "There was a Nanny who loved watching The Little Mermaid. Her favorite character was Ursula, so Henrietta gave her the name. Fucking psycho, I swear." Alex laughed as well, joining in with Ysabel, before the thought of the letter crinkled in his pocket and he wanted the world to shut down.

Ysabel noted the change, her smile faltering slightly. "Hey, Alex. . .I came along because I wanted to support you, not just because of the mystery letter."

"But that detail is just the cherry on top, isn't it?" Alex asked, smirking. "I would have asked to go too. . .and, yeah, I wouldn't take 'No' for an answer."

Ysabel crossed her arms. "So you admit you and I are alike?"

"Never said that, so don't put words in my mouth, bitch," Alex joked, his fingers drumming along the steering wheel. "It's just on my mind, like normal these days."

"Well it's not everyday you get a letter from a supposed serial killer and then go on some Holmes-like adventure across the country, you know."

"Yes, that is a point, Ysabel. . .and we still haven't received a call back from Officer Martins, which is painfully annoying."

Criminal InfatuationWhere stories live. Discover now