The Misguided

Captivity

Chapter 10 - Captivity

How far would you go in the pursuit of love? Until love doesn't want to chaperone or to be reciprocated, and the only logical way is to depreciate: the primary source, the evidence, the memories...

Lilian instantly regretted it. She did not have a plan on how to dispose of the body, to conceal the evidence, or if her "friend" crawling on the nearby floor could be trusted with insensitive information like that when she struggled to keep faith in her own husband. A deadweight was lifted off her shoulder- but the new one was certainly more burden and seemingly heavier. But she knew his death was the only way his fading love for her would remain.

Lilian sat beside her friend, hyperventilating from the tragic sight she witnessed, sitting in the burial ground of the corpse.
"I did not see anything; I'll act like I didn't see anything." Camila slowly removed her hand, shielding her eyes, and began crying hysterically, tugging on the roots of her hair.

"Shall we dispose of the body? I'll help you. There's a lake nearby." Camila suggested, resting her arm around Lilian's shoulder, seeking comfort.

"There's no need for that." Lilian swept her arm off her shoulder. "I have a better plan," Lilian stated, taking her cell phone from her pocket.

"So, what is it? We won't get caught, right ?" Camila began fiddling with her keychain while her legs quivered.

"Well, remember the car that almost ran me over earlier? I've never seen him in our neighbourhood before. And for him to be in a neighbourhood, this remote is already suspicious as it is." Lilian sighed, "He was definitely up to no good, to begin with- for the lack of sympathy through the consequences of his actions."

"I'm listening and intrigued by the plan."

"I need to start a call with the police department. I'm not saying we should frame him, but we'll act like we caught Daniel dead on the floor the second we got home, and the rest is up to them to investigate. He might be framed, or someone else will be. Either way, we aren't taking the fall for it. "

"You are so genius," Camila chuckled nervously, "Don't forget to sob a little on the call, to seem devastated."

Lilian fiddled with the bandana; her eyes loomed with tenebrosity.
"Oh yeah, how did I forget? We could also use the bandana as evidence someone broke in. We just made a whole list of potential suspects."

Lilian glanced at Camila, a smirk evoking her lips, "But before that, can you do me a favour and help me move the gun into my bag while I dial nine one one?"

"Ye-yeah, of course !" Camila did not question it. Her mind was blank except for Daniel's beseech for help as he tumbled over, gushing blood from his chest. She promised she would do whatever Lilian told her to, in fear, she'll become the lifeless corpse lying adjacent to her in the living room, with Lilian radiating fiery malevolence within the small duration since the aftermath.

Lilian removed her gloves and flushed them down the toilet, withdrawing her phone from her pocket. She stepped outside momentarily to see Camila viciously stuffing the gun in her bag, signalling a thumbs up when she was done zipping up the bag. Lilian punched the number into the keypad and returned to the washroom, signalling Camila to be quiet by the finger on her lip.

Lilian had to set the atmosphere for the mood of a devastated, widowed woman. How would she feel if she saw her best friend, whom she had experienced ups and downs, thick and thin, kill her husband, whom she loved with the entirety of her soul,  in front of her very own eyes over the position of a mistress?

"Hey, 911, what's your emergency, and who am I speaking to?"

"Lilian Woods. I just saw my husband getting murdered," Lilian's voice trembled, "Daniel is dead. Please!"