Chapter 1 Bloodstain
The house on Milan Road never used to feel this quiet. But tonight, it was so still that Amara could hear the clock in the hallway ticking like a time bomb. Every creak of the floor, every whisper of the wind through the cracked-open windows made her flinch. The silence wasn't peaceful. It was haunted.
Her knees were soaked in blood. The blood of the man who she had called Father all her life and adored .
She couldn't scream. She couldn't cry. All she could do was stare into the thin air. His eyes were still open, looking at her with the same kindness he'd always carried, but now empty, frozen, and devoid of life. His hands were curled awkwardly near his chest, and the pool of blood had turned the white tiles into a canvas of horror.
She remembered the scream. Her own. But that was hours ago. Now, the house was filled with officers, flashes from cameras, gloves snapping, and questions she didn't have answers to.
"I need her to breathe. She's in shock," a voice whispered nearby. Maybe Luna. Maybe someone else. Amara's ears felt like they were under water.
JUNE 1ST, 2020. The day her life stopped making sense.
*************************************************
Three days later, the sun was too bright. Amara wore sunglasses not because of the light, but to hide the swelling in her eyes. The funeral was a blur. She hadn't spoken much. Her mother had died years ago, and now her father was gone too. Murdered. In his own home. Her home.
Oh poor Orphan 🥲
Luna held her hand tightly through the entire service. The touch was grounding, but Amara couldn't help noticing how everyone looked at her. Pity.....Suspicion.....Curiosity. Maybe it was because she didn't cry enough. Or maybe it was because she hadn't said a word to the detectives since the body was taken.
"I'm going to stay with you for a while," Luna said softly, brushing a strand of Amara's curly hair behind her ear. "I can't let you go through this alone."
Amara nodded numbly. Luna had always been the warmest part of her life. They'd been best friends since they were ten. And while Amara had begun exploring the truth about herself and her attraction to women, Luna had remained the stable, comforting figure she leaned on. But not even Luna could fix this.
That night, the house still smelled like bleach.
Amara stood in her father's study. It hadn't been touched since the crime scene unit left. Papers were still scattered, the drawers left ajar. She walked toward the large mahogany desk and ran her fingers across the wood. One drawer was locked. That wasn't unusual. Her father had always kept some things private.
She bent down, retrieved a set of spare keys from a small ceramic dish on the shelf, and unlocked it.
Inside were files. Dozens. Mostly legal papers and property documents. But buried under them, she found something strange: a black envelope. Sealed. With her name on it.
She opened it slowly. Inside was a single piece of paper. One line was written:
"Some things are better left buried, but you always loved digging."
No signature........No context.
Her heart raced.
"Amara?" Luna called from the hallway.
Amara shoved the note into her hoodie pocket. "Yeah?"
Luna stepped inside. "I made us some tea. You need to sleep tonight."
"Thanks." Amara took the mug but didn't drink.
"I hate seeing you like this." Luna stepped closer. "You're scaring me."
Amara turned to her. "You know what's scary? Knowing that someone hated him enough to kill him. And that person is still out there."
Luna's expression faltered. "He was a good man."
Was he? That question scratched the back of Amara's mind.
---
In the days that followed, Amara began asking questions. The police didn't have much to go on. No signs of forced entry, no murder weapon found, and no immediate suspects.
She started visiting places her father used to frequent. His favorite coffee shop. His office. His driver's place. She needed to find someone, anyone, who knew something.
One evening, a man in a suit approached her outside the station.
"Miss Roland?"
"Yes?"
"Detective Cade." He smiled slightly. "I'm new on the case. Thought we could talk."
She nodded, sizing him up. Clean-shaven. Sharp jaw. Too good looking to trust.
They went to a diner nearby.
"Your father had some interesting acquaintances," Cade began, stirring his coffee.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I think he was involved in something bigger than anyone expected. There's no record of certain transactions that should've been filed. Hidden deals. Off-the-books meetings."
Amara blinked. "Are you saying he was corrupt?"
"I'm saying he was involved in something someone wanted kept quiet."
She swallowed. "So they killed him."
Cade leaned forward. "Do you want to help me find out who?"
Her breath hitched. "Yes."
He smiled. "Good. But be extra careful
She nodded.
*************************************************
That night, Amara locked her bedroom door. She turned on her laptop and searched her father's emails. She found one address that stood out. It had no name, just numbers.
She clicked on one email thread. It read:
"It has to be done. She's getting too close. Delay it a few days if you must, but don't fail."
The date? A week before his death.
Her hands trembled.
Who was this message about?
It felt like she was setout to destroy the lovely picture she had built of her dad in his head.
She didn't tell anyone of the email,not even the detective.
Something felt off. Trust no one.
****************************************************************
The next morning, she met Cade again. He looked more casual this time. Jeans and a leather jacket.
"You okay?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "But I will be."
He chuckled. "That's the spirit. You're strong."
She looked him over. "Do you always flirt with your witnesses?"
He grinned. "Only the ones with killer eyes."
She smirked but said nothing. The attention felt good-dangerous, but good.
As they parted ways, Cade touched her shoulder and whispered, "Be careful. They're still watching."
---
Back home, Luna was on the couch, watching an old movie. She looked up. "Where've you been?"
"Getting some air."
"Are you okay?"
"I will be."
Luna stood, crossed the room, and hugged her. Amara stiffened at first, then melted into it.
"We'll get through this," Luna said.
But Amara didn't believe that anymore. She was starting to feel like she didn't know anyone at all.
Not even herself.
/0/76390/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef53bd18849670370ea677dd4cfed391&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/38162/coverorgin.jpg?v=2af7ad1b5fd6d8b5e19e674e63c1b9d0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/73838/coverorgin.jpg?v=13386996a09e7a2f9334fc224055a59a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/57519/coverorgin.jpg?v=be29d3e2b113668e47571d510074cc7d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/67384/coverorgin.jpg?v=d2bf074441b4c3831a13ef272aeddd61&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81266/coverorgin.jpg?v=0db1c7c8f8a19b04bdc562ca1e003e13&imageMogr2/format/webp)