The Wattpad chick

~Chapter fourteen~

P.S.- Pleaaase PLEASE read the author's note at the end!

"Not to like ice cream is to show oneself uninterested in food."

- Joseph Epstein

I sit in the waiting area, tapping my foot against the floor anxiously, the entire scene playing in my head over and over as I try to make sense of it.

"Greta Hillson, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of Gwen Bryan. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law."

Before Elias showed me the little diary, I had my doubts set on Greta too but now I was pretty sure that she wasn't a murderer. She was sent to the party to murder someone but that someone was supposed to be a guy, not Gwen. Besides, what motive could she possibly have to take her own mother's life?

My incessant tapping gets louder, earning me dirty looks from the officer sitting opposite me. I ignore him, my gaze focused on my father, standing beside our family lawyer who is working on Greta's bail.

Moments before Greta's arrest, my father had just admitted to me that he had conspired to murder Richard that night at the mall. Had he actually gone forward and carried out the plan? I never had the chance to confront him about it but a part of me hesitated to believe it. Maybe I didn't wanna admit it to myself. Arnold is my biological father and even if he is terrible at being one, he is still a part of my family. Besides, if he really was the true culprit, why had he spent the last nine years searching for the truth?

I glance at my father one last time before turning my attention to my cell phone. It's only a little past 5pm.

I type in a quick text message and forward it to the only two people who could help me gain a better understanding and get some perspective about what I should do next.

Meet me at Aria's ice cream and milkshake shop in 20 mins. It's urgent.

"Lemme guess, one chocolate brownie scoop with sprinkles on top?" The red-haired girl asks me.

I look up at her, grinning.

"You know me so well, Tina." I laugh.

Tina, the waitress beams down at me before scrambling off to the counter.

Aria's ice cream and milkshake shop is like a second home to me. Whenever I am overwhelmed with anxiety or intruding thoughts, I drive my butt over here so it could cool itself off with something cold and delicious. I let my eyes scan my surroundings and sigh in pleasure.

The shop is well designed with its soft fluorescent lights and small wooden booths. The walls are painted a light red and decorated with images of various sundaes.