Amnesia [Completed/Editing]

Chapter Twelve // Siara Lynn Dupont | Part II

CHAPTER TWELVE // SIARA LYNN DUPONT | PART II
[WORD COUNT: 3223]
[TOTAL: 32633] 

woo 30k words! :)

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The cool lemonade managed to calm my nerves but only slightly. My fingers were shaking and I attempted to hide them in my coat pocket where I tightly grasped my cell phone that was still buzzing. I truly didn’t know if I was going to go through this. I didn’t know how I was going to keep my composure when I was already so fragile, I was afraid that any news that happened to disturb me in the slightest could have me on the floor sobbing like a little child. Keeping up with my facade of being the youngest detective in the city without breaking down was more difficult than I anticipated. The closer we got to the exit the more I wondered why I cared so much about what people thought of me.

I had already been through enough, why should they criticize me for shedding a few tears of something so gruesome and so inhumane? They didn’t have the right–none of them did. They shouldn’t care if I cried in public, as if they expected more coming from me. They didn’t know me. None of them knew me like Jacob, Lisa, or Bona did at all.

“I don’t know if I’m going to hold back my tears, Jacob,” I admitted, my voice shaky as I imagined the worst waiting for us at the station. “It’s already hard enough making it seem like I’m indestructible, but I don’t know if I can hold it any longer.” 

Jacob stared at me with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. He pulled me closer until my face was resting on his chest. I felt his lips press softly on the top of my head, causing tears to sting my vision. “You’re only human, Siara. You can only hold back for so long.” I don’t know how long we spent there, in Jacob’s brothers restaurant, him holding me and whispering comforting words. I honestly had no clue how he did it; how he managed to conceal his emotions with such ease that I was envious. I wished I had that ability, to shut off my emotions but ever since the death of Mason, it has become increasingly tiring to hide what I was feeling in front of everybody. 

I didn’t realize that we were in the car until I felt the deep hum of the car turn on. I snapped out of my daze and pulled out my cell phone from my pocket, my fingers still grasped tightly on the screen up to the point where my knuckles were white. I clicked the home button and managed to pry my sweaty palm off the exterior of the case and noticed immediately how I had a missed call from Bona. I clicked on the missed call and noticed how I had another message. With hesitant fingers I clicked on the message. 

Bona; 22:46; Come to the station now. You need to see this.

I exhaled a shaky breath, feebly sneaking a glance at Jacob, who seemed to not have read his own message from the chief. “Did–Did you read the message Bona sent us?”

Jacob shook his head while licking his lips. “Not yet,” He reached into his pocket once we stopped at a red light and managed to read the message. He shut his phone off and slid it back in his pocket, stepping on the accelerator. The rest of the ride was silent, up until there was less than a mile left to arrive at the station. I dug my nails in my tender palm and winced at the contact, hoping the pain could distract me from the persistent lump in my throat, from the prickling stress under my skin that couldn’t be scratched away, and from the uncomfortable twisting of anxiety tumbling around in my stomach. 

As Jacob pulled in, there were reporters everywhere, flashing lights blinding me momentarily. Their voices could be heard from the interior of Jacob’s car but I found it increasingly difficult to push their voices away, especially when I was seconds away from snapping. How did they know about this already?