Trapped

Chapter 30: AFTER

Chapter Thirty:

A time limit has been set.

—

MY HANDS WERE shaking.

Everything was starting to make sense. The news, the article, the press releases, the gossip, and the rumors. All of it instantly clicked in my mind as I tried to tie all the pieces together. Even though there were parts of my memories that I still couldn’t remember—I believed that someone is behind all of this.

I have to agree with Karen on this one.

Slowly, I was beginning to understand her grief and desperation. She told the investigators that the car accident wasn’t really an accident to begin with. Instead, it was some kind of a set-up. Karen said that her husband, Jerry, died because someone offered him a huge bundle of cash in exchange for the accident.

Whoever that was, I’m certain that it’s some kind of a f*****g sicko!

According to Karen, she overheard Jeffrey talking to someone on the phone in regards to the plan that her husband needed to execute. She confronted him about it, and Jeffrey didn’t have a choice but to tell her. It turned out that Jeffrey just needed to cause a collision.

Of course, that collision needed to be specific. It wasn’t just someone in the world—it had to be Maxwell and I.

Everything was provided for. The truck, the time, the location. The only missing piece was my car, Maxwell, and I—he just needed us to be there at a certain point.

However, everyone blamed the snow, but I beg to differ.

A lot of people claimed that Karen was just bonkers—even the police thought the same thing. Due to the overwhelming grief she felt after her husband died, everyone believed that her mental being broke and was now beyond repair. Although, as the investigation proceeded, Karen was able to provide the money that she claimed was offered to the. In which she found inside Jerry’s drawer, amounting to a hundred million dollars.

I grew rigid at that information. I can’t f*****g believe that it’s what were meant to be worth—Maxwell and I.

Hundred million dollars in exchange for our lives. One that we both assumed to be priceless… we thought wrong.

Karen and Jeffrey didn’t live a lavish life, and had some financial problems. He told her that the offer might be the answer to all their problems—the one thing that they had always wished and prayed for. But Karen didn’t agree with Jerry’s opinion… and yet, he still did it.

What Jeffrey wasn’t aware of was the fact that it would cost his life as well. Karen was certain that this wasn't an accident, and she demanded to know who did such a thing.

She was right.

The moment I found out that my car had been scrapped even before the investigation could take place—it was reported that the brakes weren’t working—I knew that something was off about it.

Despite my shaking hands, I continued to scroll down at the article I was reading. My grip on the laptop tightened, seemingly like I was afraid that I might drop it at any second—just like how my heart fell to the floor the second I read the rest of the article.

“Chandria and Maxwell’s family refused to release a statement about this issue, but reassured the public that they’re investigating the matters privately,” I read aloud, catching my breath.

My heart hammered inside my chest.

Why wasn’t I aware of this? Why did no one tell me about the problem that our family was facing ever since the accident happened?

I know that they just wanted to keep me safe since it hasn’t been long since I woke up from the coma. But surely, this is an important matter that needs to be handled as soon as possible.

I can’t believe that they hid this information from me! I could’ve helped with the investigation.

Then I remembered one thing… I couldn’t even recall what truly happened before, during, and after the accident.

For it had been wiped off from my memory.

“Be careful, Chandria.”

My heart skipped a beat as I heard a melodic voice resonating inside my room. It had been so long since the last time I heard her voice that it almost seemed foreign to me. However, I can clearly remember who it was.

“Kaleigh,” I breathed out.

The last time I talked to her was when I woke up from my coma. I tried reaching out to her multiple times, but she had never answered back, let alone shown herself to me. I had to admit that the timing was off putting.

Was she waiting—all along—for me to understand what was happening before she could talk to me again?

“No,” Kaleigh responded and I jolted at my place.

“You… you can read my mind?” I voiced out in utter disbelief. Glancing at every corner of my room, I tried to look for her. When I was still at the hospital, I never really saw what she looked like—same goes with Azrael—since everything was hazy to me at that time due to the medicines that I was taking. But now, I wanted to see her.

I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going batshit crazy.

As per my psychiatrist, Doctor Mendoza, I created Kaleigh in my mind as a coping mechanism due to the traumatic event that I experienced. Being in a car crash that took the life of my sister… and almost mine—she claimed that hallucination was a normal side effect of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. That I’m just having a hard time differentiating delusions from reality. Hence why we needed to proceed with the therapy.

But I knew that I wasn’t making things up. In spite of the fact that I don’t believe in angels, let alone god—I’m one hundred percent certain that Kaleigh is real.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” she answered. “The car crash isn’t an accident, Chandria. And you have to find out who did this to you and your sister. If you want to—”

“Wait,” I stopped her. “What do you mean, find out? Why can’t you just tell me since you seemed to know who did it?”

Kaleigh’s response sent shivers down my spine, especially with the stern melodic voice of hers. “We can’t intervene… I can’t intervene… not again. I’m sorry, Chandria but you have to do this alone.”

“Huh, do what exactly?”

“Find out who wanted to kill you,” she answered instantly and before I could ask another question, she spoke once more. “You have until your birthday.”

“My birthday? That’s four months from now,” I calculated, wanting to make sure how many days I needed in order to solve whatever this is. “What will happen if I don’t solve it by then?”

“You have to live in Maxwell’s body for the rest of your life.”