Chapter XIII

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QUESTION FOR TODAY: SnapChat or Instagram?

A/N: TRIGGER WARNING!!! Reader discretion is advised. To anyone who self harms, know that I love you and I'm here for you <3

"Leila's been acting weird." I muttered.

Jake, who had been flipping pancakes, stilled immediately. "How so?"

"She saw Damien and I together a couple of days ago and I swear, she looked at me as if she wanted me to drop dead. I'm kind of scared that she may dismember me if the opportunity arises." I replied.

He grinned. "I'm sure she's just PMS-ing."

"If that was the case, she'd be PMS-ing all the time." I bit back.

"Look, T, I feel as if you're grasping at straws." upon seeing my bemused expression, he continued. "If you think you're fooling me, you aren't. You're trying to say Leila is the perpetrator of Christina's death."

"Not once did I say, nor imply, such a thing." I said harshly. "I was just saying that she's been acting quite suspicious."

That was a blatant lie. I was confident that Leila, a woman overwhelmed by jealousy, left me the infamous note before stealing Chrissy from me. My mood soured at the thought. If she believed she was going to get away with what she had done, she was very much mistaken.

"I need to go. Have fun flipping pancakes." I rolled my eyes and waltzed out of the kitchen.

Damien was engaged in a meeting about Christina's death so I was completely alone. Jake wasn't going to be any help in discovering the truth; he seemed to think my assumptions were ludicrous.

"Time to investigate," I murmured.

I crept upstairs, sparing a glance at each nameplate as I did so. As I reached Leila's room, I hesitated. This was an invasion of privacy, and I should be going about this in a completely different way.

Oh well.

Shrugging, I dismissed my reservations and curled my hand around the door knob.

Locked.

"Well that was anti climatic." I muttered.

I pushed against the door repeatedly, cursing. My frustration peaked and I shouted an obscenity, smashing my head on the wall. A click resounded and I whirled around, confused. The door had opened.

I wasn't going to take it for granted. I slunk inside the room and immediately moved to the desk, sorting through the pile of paper, which was tilting precariously.

"What in the world are you doing?"

I turned around. Leila was leaning against the door frame with her arms folded across her chest. I blushed deep scarlet but remained composed.

"Searching for evidence," I shrugged nonchalantly, inspecting my cuticles. "You?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about, mundane?"

"It was you, wasn't it?"

She raised a brow in question.

"You left me the note. You killed Chrissy." Tears brimmed in my eyes without my conscious volition. "I knew you liked Damien, sure, but I didn't know you'd kill for him."

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