The killer of her best friend wants her. What happens when the lines between hatred and desire begin to blur?
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╰┈⫸ 𝑺 𝒀 𝑵 𝑶 𝑷 𝑺 𝑰 𝑺:
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢'𝐬 life takes a harrowing turn on her best friend's wedding day whe...
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The city was cold and gloomy. It rained all night long. The sky was overcast with thick clouds, beyond seen—water stood on the road and they became muddy and slippery.
I drove my car quietly on the dull road. A music played in the background, and Ana hummed to its melody from beside me.
"Where are we going, again?" I broke her rhythm by asking. I forced a smile from slipping when she glares at me. "Seriously, Tessa? What drug are you high on?" She muttered. "I told you for the umpteenth time for the sake of God."
"Yeah, and I forgot?"
She rolled her eyes in response but made sure to remind me again where we were actually going. "Linda's house. They were having a party soon, and she told me that I had to be with her before noon; otherwise, she will mess up."
"Didn't know you were so dependable."
"Excuse me?" She tried hard to look offended at my remark while I shake my head. "I was kidding."
"You better be because that was ostentatiously rude."
I smiled a little in amusement, still in wonder how despite growing up in America, she's mastered the posh accent so goodly.
I thought our conversation was over for now as the ride turned silent again.
But my inside was clouded with mourn. Nowadays, I don't even find it in myself to think of something or do something to my liking. Sometimes I feel as if I could sleep the whole day without caring about the world.
Loss changes people. Grief makes them bend.
"Are you sure you want to visit them, for real?" Ana seemed to notice my odd silence and decided to ask, though she'd asked the question a thousand times before already. And my reply remained the same. "Yes."
It felt like a responsibility for me to let those people know that the daughter they had disowned was dead now, in case if they ever wondered where Elena Bernardi would be roaming around. After they finds out, they'd have nothing to wonder.
Ana never spoke another word. Despite sensing her curiosity, I didn't feel like asking her myself what she wanted to know.
Ignorance is bliss sometimes, after all.
🂱
After dropping Ana to her friend's place, I took my leave for the Bernardi residence.
It took three knocks for the door to open up. The face that shows up before me immediately expressed her displeasure upon my presence. And for God's sake, I didn't care. "What do you want?"
"Elena Bernardi is dead. She was murdered on the day of her wedding." I never clarified anything for why I was here, but I was sure Bettina Bernardi, AKA Elena's mom, already understood that by now.
