Heartstrings and Handcuffs, A Detective's Dilemma

Chapter 1

Olivia

"Quit pushing your food around and just eat," my father snaps in frustration.

It's been twenty-three days since my sister Ava's disappearance, and eating feels like an insurmountable task.

"I'm hurt, I don't know how you're handling all of this. I can't bring myself to eat." I sob. "All I want is to see her once more."

My father sighed and cast a dejected look at my mother. "I understand, honey. It's been tough for all of us, believe me," he reaches for the towel on his lap, wiping his mouth. "But we will overcome this, do you hear me?" Running a hand over his face, he continues, "I'm not certain if the police are doing everything to find your sister, so I've enlisted someone to assist us. I anticipate him arriving today."

My mom appeared flustered but remained silent.

"And Olivia," he paused, "Keep this to yourself and don't share it with anyone, not even your friends, and certainly not with Philip."

I meet his gaze.

"Is that clear?" He gives me a stern look.

My head nods.

Breakfast comes to an end, and I'm relieved. The tense atmosphere lingering in our home since my sister's disappearance has become unbearable. Glancing at the clock - February 01, 2024, 11 o'clock, a usual Sunday - I can't help but imagine the carefree day we'd have spent swimming at the nearby freshwater lake if Ava hadn't vanished mysteriously. The absence of her presence has turned my life into disarray, leaving me feeling incomplete and lost.

My eyes wander around my room, which has been left unkempt for God knows how long, and my eyes focus on a stack of books cloaked in dust. It strikes me as ironic - these books were once relocated from my sister's room, yet I haven't found the will to read them. I reach for the topmost book, brushing away the accumulated filth. "I assume this is Ava's favourite book," I mumble.

Seated on the edge of my bed, I delve into "Veronika decides to die". It strikes me as odd that my sister, not a fan of Paolo Coelho, would own such a book - it doesn't align with her usual preference for classics. Turning the pages, I search for any hint or clue. Am I playing the detective here? I groan, sinking into my bed and covering my face with the book. "Where are you Ava?" I whisper in frustration.

As I was on the verge of closing the book, feeling drowsy, I notice a piece of paper slipping from its pages. It's torn, its edges bearing signs of being burned. Unfolding the paper, my mother's voice interrupts from downstairs, yelling, "Olivia!" The urgency in her tone convinces me to leave the paper for later. "I'm coming!" I shout in response, tucking the mysterious find inside my pocket before hurrying downstairs.

Three voices resonate in the living room - my parents' familiar tones and a third, entirely unfamiliar.

My father's gaze sharply turns towards me as I enter, signalling me to join them. In the corner of the room, a man who seems to be in his thirties sits, possessing curly hair and an ivory complexion, dressed in a leather jacket and black pants. His forest-coloured eyes lock onto mine, studying me intently. Breaking the silence, my father clears his throat, "Marcus, meet my daughter, Olivia. I believe she can help you in finding Ava."

Feeling uneasy about engaging with others, I opt for a clumsy wave, my go-to gesture when meeting new people unlike my sister, who radiates sunshine and possesses a cheery grin that could brighten anyone's day.

"All right," my father begins. "Marcus here is a detective. A high school friend recommended him, and I also checked him out online. Seems like he has considerable experience in locating missing persons."