Echoes of the Fallen

Chapter 19: Police Corruption

Michelle's POV

It's been a month since I found them. A month since my world shattered, leaving me adrift in an abyss of grief and rage. Every day since has felt like I'm dragging myself through broken glass, my heart bleeding out with each step. But through the haze of sorrow, a singular focus has emerged: justice. I won't rest until Matthew pays for what he's done. He stole the people I loved most in this world, and I won't let him get away with it.

The police investigation started out promising. The officers who arrived that night were horrified, immediately declaring it a murder scene. They asked all the right questions, combed through every inch of the apartment, took evidence, swabbed for DNA. For a moment, I believed they would actually help. I believed they would find Matthew, put him behind bars, and make him pay for destroying my life.

But as the days dragged on, my hope began to fray. Every time I called for an update, the detectives were either too busy to talk or brushed me off with vague assurances that they were "working on it." It wasn't long before their calls stopped coming altogether. The sense of urgency I felt, the raw desperation for answers, wasn't mirrored in their actions. It's like they'd moved on, as if Bella and Bethany's lives didn't matter anymore.

I'm standing outside the police station now, the cold winter wind biting at my skin. It's mid-afternoon, and the sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the street. I've been here countless times over the past few weeks, each visit more frustrating than the last. But today feels different. Today, I'm not leaving without answers.

As I push through the glass doors, the sterile smell of the station hits me—bleach and old coffee. The receptionist barely glances up as I approach, her expression bored.

"Hi, I'm here to see Detective Ramous," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

She sighs, flipping through a stack of papers. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I—"

"Then I can't help you," she cuts me off, not even bothering to look at me. "He's busy."

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. "I've been trying to get in touch with him for weeks. He's the lead detective on my case, and I need to speak with him. It's urgent."

She finally looks up, her eyes narrowing. "Name?"

"Michelle Thompson."

She types something into her computer, her nails clicking against the keyboard. After a moment, she frowns. "I don't see any active cases under your name."

"What?" The word comes out in a whisper, my heart plummeting to the pit of my stomach. "That's impossible. My friends were murdered. There has to be an active case."

The receptionist shrugs, clearly uninterested. "It's not showing up. You'll have to take it up with the detective."

"I'm trying to," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "Can you at least tell me if he's in the building?"

She gives me a long, disapproving look before picking up the phone. After a brief conversation, she hangs up and nods toward the hallway. "You can go back. Second door on the left."

"Thank you," I mutter, turning on my heel and heading down the hall. My heart is pounding in my chest, each step echoing loudly in the quiet corridor. I don't know what I'll do if they've actually closed the case. The thought makes my blood run cold.

When I reach the door, I hesitate for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. Then I knock, the sound loud and hollow.

"Come in," a voice calls from the other side.

I push the door open, stepping into a small, cluttered office. Detective Ramous is sitting behind a desk piled high with papers, a half-empty coffee cup perched precariously on top. He looks up as I enter, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Thompson," he says, leaning back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"

I close the door behind me, crossing my arms over my chest. "I want to know what's going on with the investigation."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Michelle. I know this has been difficult for you, but there's nothing new to report."

"That's not good enough," I reply, my voice trembling with barely restrained anger. "It's been a month. You have evidence, you have a suspect—why haven't you arrested him?"

Ramous looks away, avoiding my gaze. "It's not that simple. We need concrete proof before we can make an arrest. And right now, we don't have enough to go on."

"Not enough?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. "What about the DNA? The fingerprints? You told me there was enough to tie Matthew to the scene!"

His silence is deafening. A cold dread starts to creep over me, settling like a stone in my gut. Something isn't right.

"You're lying," I whisper, the realization hitting me like a slap to the face. "You're covering for him."

"Michelle, I—"

"You're protecting him!" My voice rises, shaking with fury. "His family's money, their influence—they got to you, didn't they? They paid you off!"

"Calm down," Ramous says, standing up and moving around the desk toward me. "You need to be careful about what you're accusing people of."

"I don't care!" I shout, stepping back from him. "My best friend and her girlfriend are dead because of him, and you're just going to let him walk free?"

He doesn't answer, and that silence is all the confirmation I need. My legs feel weak, my head spinning with the sheer injustice of it all. The system is supposed to protect us, to bring criminals to justice. But it's all a lie. People like Matthew, like his family—they're untouchable. And Bella and Bethany's lives mean nothing to them.

Tears of frustration burn in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won't let them see how much they've broken me.

"I'm not going to let you get away with this," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "I'll find another way to get justice. If you won't do your job, I will."

Ramous's expression hardens. "Don't do anything stupid, Michelle. I understand you're upset, but taking matters into your own hands won't end well."

I glare at him, my heart pounding with rage. "Watch me."

I turn and storm out of the office, slamming the door behind me. The receptionist glances up as I pass, but I don't spare her a second look. I'm too angry, too hurt to care about anything else right now.

The cold air hits me as I step outside, but it does nothing to numb the fire burning inside me. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I know one thing for sure: I'm going to make Matthew pay, one way or another. The law may have failed Bella and Bethany, but I won't.

As I walk down the street, my mind races, already formulating a plan. I have nothing left to lose, and I'll do whatever it takes to see this through. The justice system might be corrupt, but I'm not. I'll be the one to bring him down. I'll make sure he feels every ounce of pain he's caused.

They took everything from me. Now it's my turn to take everything from them.