Story cover for "The Witness" by RirenDestielFangirl
"The Witness"
RirenDestielFangirl
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RirenDestielFangirl
Ongoing, First published Jul 28, 2017
crimecrimeskillkillsmysteriesmysterysolvingsuicidethrillerwitness
It's been 8 days since I found her.

No matter what I do I can't scrape her out of my mind.
Her eyes. Her hand peacefully resting on the edge of the bathtub. Her unusual, traumatizing posture.






[read if you're curious, but i personally believe this will spoil the book] ⬇️




Karla, the girl who was found dead, is suspected to have killed herself. 
Jules, however, knows this is not the case.
How does she know for sure? Was she the witness? Or worse, did she have something to do with this and she feels guilty? Is what officers are asking themselves.
All Rights Reserved
crimecrimeskillkillsmysteriesmysterysolvingsuicidethrillerwitness
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In the Heart of the City

22 parts Complete

The door opens and closes thirty times in five minutes, the table clutters endlessly. What's happening? Why am I being held by two officers in the corner of a counseling clinic? Is this an interrogation ground now? Shadows race past me, like mirages in a desert, faces flicker into view only to vanish the next second. The officers speak, but I can't hear them. My senses are failing me. Something inside me is taking control, and I might faint. If I wake up in a hospital, will this still be a nightmare, or something scripted? The city woke to devastation. The news spread like wildfire-Dr. Nadia, a champion for human rights, had been murdered in this very clinic. Yesterday, she voiced her fear for her life; no one listened. Now, she's gone. The press churned out articles minute by minute, TV channels broadcast live updates, and the internet roared with outrage. Police teams haven't slept. Top agents were deployed. That's how I met Inspectors Carla and Javed-while being held as both the prime suspect and the sole witness to this chaos. Dr. Nadia wasn't just a leader; she was a symbol of hope. She fought tirelessly for the oppressed, for justice, for rights the government ignored. Yet, she seemed to know her time was near. A week ago, she hinted at it but continued her fight. Yesterday, she paid the price-her life. Now, the city mourns her loss, consumed by guilt for ignoring her cries for help. The last time I saw Nadia, she was here, in this clinic. She didn't want to live. She seemed tired, desperate for respite. How does someone so adept at convincing others to hold on end up wanting to let go? Her death feels like a betrayal. She trusted us, and we failed her. I failed her. Now, it's on me to prove this was no accident-a cold-blooded murder. Or was it?

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