The Witch's Doll ⚢

Chapter 30

Walking around the perimeter of Alessandra's room, Isla let her fingers idly trail over everything. The walls, the scattered posters adorning the aforementioned walls, the multiple pots of plants, the bookcases, her desk, her computer, and her various knickknacks collected over time.

Isla looked around to make sure there wouldn't be any indication to show that Alessandra Adams snapped and took her there to finally kill her.

And for the good part, there was none. She can rest at ease.

Alessandra had been observing her through the crack on her bedroom door. A fantasy played out inside her head as she would reach out for the Brit's delicate neck. She couldn't decide whether she wanted it to be quick and painless or slow and painful. Watching the agony as the life was sucked out of her eyes.

"Here," Alessandra entered the room after she got out of her reverie, carrying two mugs. "I made some Taho, earlier. It's best enjoyed cold."

Isla stared at the contents when she took it. "What concoction did you just brew?"

"How dare you, it's just tapioca seeds, soft tofu, and brown melted sugar!" Alessandra said, drinking from her mug. "Just tell me if you don't like it, I have another one that has strawberry jam in it, maybe you'll like it better."

Isla slurped some of its contents and the way she swallowed the cold soft tofu was truly an experience of a lifetime. "Oh no, thanks. This is quite good."

Alessandra's lips slowly curved in a smirk when she placed her voodoo doll on top of her desk.

"What are you doing?" Loa hissed. "Flaunting me in front of her?"

She knew the Brit won't think it's uncharacteristic of her. And besides, it was clear as day that the girl doesn't believe in the paranormal. Alessandra could be bold in front of her, throw all the telltale signs, help the detective sleuth her way into catching her, yet Isla Cecil's close-mindedness will obscure the truth in plain view.

Alessandra set a foot sideward to face the girl once more. A slow smirk wormed its way to her mouth as she imagined the cold lifeless body on her trash. "Let's start."

Alessandra still hadn't the faintest idea why Isla wanted to spend time with her at all. That first day when she had come up to Alessandra at the table, it was clear that the Brit still wasn't the fondest of her. While she'd been perfectly agreeable, there had been a subtle kind of loathing in Isla's eyes, the type born from years of rival enmity. But even in the short amount of time that they had been spending together, that loathing had diminished, softened into something tamer.

Sometimes, it even disappeared for a little while.

But that didn't mean that they liked each other. If anything, Alessandra seemed to tolerate Isla and vice versa. Isla was determined to be civil but not go beyond that. They still sniped at one another when they looked up from their work for long enough to speak, but there was usually a careful kind of lightness to it, an understanding on both of their parts to not go too far, to respect the truce. And though she still didn't understand Isla's motives, Alessandra was sure as hell she was about to rock the boat.

"How's the consulting with the Scotland Yard?" Alessandra asked absentmindedly as if for the sake of conversation.

"The truth still eludes me," Isla said. Alessandra waited for more explanation but the girl offered no more than that.

Alessandra stared back at her work and gritted her teeth, opting to focus on it instead when the girl spoke.

"I heard Evonnie broke up with you."