Eliza Haque is just another ordinary girl. She has a loving family, and even more loving friends. Recently having just graduated out of Imperial with her Criminal Psychology degree, she finds herself unemployed. What could be more frustrating than n...
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The next few hours flew past very fast. I came home looking new; my hair had been cut to my shoulders and highlighted to a brown colour. I was ordered to wear hazel contacts as well as given a specific dressing style and makeup look. They wanted me to become a new person. Sabah Haque. Sabah, the girl who will take down the culprit. Well I hope so.
As I was being changed into Sabah Haque, I got to find out about the possible suspects.
The first one is a mixed breed of turk and bengali. He was beautiful, I'm not going to lie. He had a tanned complexation, a strong facial structure, and sharp jaw with a shaped light beard. His hair is long, brown with blonde strands, which is styled into an organised mess; giving off a bad boy vibe. His eyes were bright green, and his long black lashes almost looked as if he had kohl on. Almost, but he didn't. Sabir Tawfiq, suspect number 1, employed in the finance department for the renounced Hilton Hotels. Pretty normal if you'd ask me.
Suspect number 2; George Samuels. An undergraduate at the University College of London, otherwise also known as UCL. Now this suspect was a model. The ones that fake tanned, the perfect face, the grey eyes, the perfectly groomed golden hair. Those type of models that were plastered on Abercrombie and Finch paper brown bags; which hormonal teenaged girls would carry to school everyday to 'show off'. Now you may be thinking, 'this girl is exaggerating'. Honestly, I am not. He is a model, at Hollister; Jack Wills; Topman. Not only is he goodlooking, he is charming and gentlemen like. Not my words, fangirls from twitter to be precise. You see, I did some research. George was a secret model, until his secret became not so much of a secret a month or two ago. And now he is a nationwide model, making the twitter girls go crazy.
I shake my head, I never really understood the benefits of fangirling. Yeah the guy may be goodlooking, but why would you become creepy and start stalking him?
The last suspect; David Russell, commonly known as 'Dave'. Part time worker at ShakeAway, studying Biochemistry at UCL. He seemed pretty normal. Brown hair, quite a thick beard, and black geeky glasses framed his face. He wasn't like the other two, each of them were different appearance wise.
They just seemed too normal. How could one of these guys have had the heart to kill all those innocent girls.
I sigh and look out of the window, watching the many fields of England zoom past us as we drive along in the car. I was meant to start my undercover job today, but I couldn't. It was Mahira's funeral.
"We're nearly here," Wasim, my eldest brother called out, snapping me away from my thoughts. I nod, not wanting to say anything; I was too upset to. My brother and his wife were holidaying in Tunisia when they had heard the unfortunate news about our cousin Mahira. Baba was also away, on a business trip in Dubai, and had to come back on a flight to England today to attend her funeral.
"Areeba," I say, bearhugging Mahira's younger sister and clutching her tight. She remains still within my arms. Still holding her, I move my face so that I could see her pale lifeless one. "It's going to be okay." But the truth is, we both know it won't. This was the first family death on my mother's side - no one knew how to handle something as grave as this. I pull her into another hug as she breaks down.
