After achieving the justice she longed for, what will Lorraine de Verra do next?
Following the imprisonment of those responsible for her parents' disappearance, she finally realised her long-cherished dream: to live a normal life.
But can she truly...
Last night, I was up late and it was not the only time I did. I've been secretly doing some deep thinking, not wanting Zane to know about my mixed emotions.
It struck me that the woman imprisoned for my parents' murder had acted suspiciously. Just nights ago, I learned she had been moved to a private, locked hospital due to a critical illness, a troubling thought that lingers in my mind.
It was Friday, and Zane had gone out with his sister for a day of fun. Alone in the flat, I was surrounded by the sounds of life echoing from the building. From down the hall, the thumping bass of loud music vibrated through the walls. The tap dancing of an elderly couple's grandchild at 224C created a playful rhythm that mingled with the laughter of men next door at 222B. Outside, the bustling streets of the suburb added to the symphony of noise, giving me a peaceful feeling.
I stepped onto the balcony, my favourite non-fiction mystery book in hand, as the crisp autumn wind tousled my hair. Ready to escape into a new world, I opened my phone to play a soothing classical piece. Just then, a notification flashed across the screen: a text from a contact named Mister Indomitable.
Seeing that unfamiliar name and number sparked my suspicion. While I knew my phone number was listed on my blogging website for potential clients seeking my help with cases, I was certain that Zane was the only one consistently engaged with my posts. I read the message: ‘Were you thinking of me?’
I was about to block the number when another message came through: ‘I’m here to share another secret. But first, promise me you’ll keep this to yourself.’
At that moment, the memory of the man I had seen that morning resurfaced in my mind. “Why are you doing this?” I typed before hitting send.
"I don't need protection. I’m safe. I can handle myself," he replied.
“What should I do about my client?” I muttered to myself, staring at the phone. Ignoring them was an option, but my conscience wouldn't let me.
“Do you want to play a little game?” he asked.
“I don't have time for this,” I replied, tapping my phone's keyboard. He sent a link, and it led me to an online chess game.
“Oh, yes, you have,” he replied. “Win, and I’ll share my greatest secret. Lose, and you must promise to keep the first one and stop solving my case.”
“You really are a nincompoop,” I muttered to myself.
“Why are you meddling in what you call a case, anyway? Why come to me? Who sent you?” he asked.
“Who are those people, and what do they really want? Who are you?” I typed and sent the message.
“Then let’s wager for the answers,” he replied swiftly.
“Why?” I asked.
“I’m bored, and I know you are too. Now, I’m giving you a challenge,” he added. “So, do you want to go through with this?”
Deep down, I knew I was good at other board games, but chess was not one of them. My sister always bested me in this game, which fueled my disdain for it. Yet, my curiosity got the better of me. I clicked on my C2white pawn and made my first move, pushing it forward to C4.
Zephyros's black pawn advanced next, charging from D7 to D6, poised to challenge my position.
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