Entrapped by love- never trust a stranger

Chapter 5

A month passed, and nothing happened. I was expecting too much. What could Dr. Shaw invent to take me out? I was hoping for nothing because I knew no one could help me.

"You're always so sad," Betsy said. "Mel, you're worrying me, you're letting go. You're still so young."

"Yeah right. I'm young but with an inexistent future. How can I be happy? There is nothing to look forward to."

Betsy remained silent. She knew that nothing she could say could cheer me up. She was right. I was letting go. In the past month, I have lost weight. I wasn't eating much. Food in prison was crap. Sometimes I closed my eyes and thought about the food I liked. How I wished to have some ice cream or a burger and chips. I also missed my mum. She rarely came to visit me. She lived far away and worked long hours every day. I knew she couldn't come as much as she wanted and maybe it was better this way. Every time she visited, I felt awful. Seeing the pain in her eyes was unbearable.

The door of the cell opened, and the deputy came in.

"Melanie, come. Someone is here to see you." She informed me.

I jumped out of my bed and hurried after her, hoping it would be Dr. Shaw with some news. The deputy took me to the same room I had taken the first time I met Dr. Shaw, and I realized it was him before she opened the door. His scent filled the corridor.

"Hello." He said with a smile as I stepped in.

"Dr. Shaw!" I exclaimed.

"How are you, Melanie? Sorry not to have visited you before, but I was working on your case."

"Really? Are there any news?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes. Sit down."

I did. He pulled out some papers. "You'll be out tomorrow." He told me.

My eyes bulged in astonishment as I stared into his handsome face. For some time, I couldn't utter a word.

"Hey, aren't you happy?" He asked with a smile.

"I... I ... don't think I heard well. H...How?"

"I'll explain everything."

"Oh my God!"

Tears of joy filled my eyes as I got up from my chair and rushed towards Mr Shaw and without thinking about it twice, I threw my hands at his neck and hugged him. I crushed my fragile body against the strength of his. My face rested against his hard chest and, for a moment, I enjoyed the sound of his beating heart against my ear.

"Thank you." I cried. He seemed shocked by my reaction, but he didn't move back. Instead, he caressed my head, his finger tangling into my messy hair.

"You're welcome, but now stop crying and let me explain."

I moved back in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's just that I still can't believe this is truly happening."

"It's OK," He said as he fixed his jacket.

I sat back down, and he did the same.

"So, I did a lot of research to see who worked at the hotel at the time you were there. I wanted to talk to them to see if anyone remembered a man called Steven. Apparently, the receptionist who checked in your Steven vanished after what happened that night and the police never got to talk to her."

"But there was more than a receptionist," I told him.

"Yeah, but none of them seemed to remember a man with your description. From what you told me, Steven spent most of his time out of the hotel. He only returned in the evening and at that time there was always the same receptionist."