Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 26
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On The Road – Morning
Duane Drove In Comfortable Silence, His Eyes Fixed On The Road Ahead.
Ivory Sat In The Back Seat, Arms Crossed, Staring Out The Window.
The Silence Stretched.
Finally, Duane Broke It.
“So,” He Said, His Voice Even. “Care To Explain What That Was About Last Night?”
Ivory’s Jaw Tightened. “No.”
“Because I’m Really Curious. You Came To Me, You Crawled Into My Bed, You Wrapped Yourself Around Me, And Now You Won’t Even Look At Me.”
“That’s Not True.”
“You’ve Looked At The Window The Entire Drive. Your Eyes Haven’t Met Mine Once.”
“I’m Looking Out The Window Because I’m Tired Of Looking At You.”
Duane Hummed Thoughtfully. “You Didn’t Seem Tired Of Me Last Night. Holding Like Your Life Depended On It!”
Ivory Bristled. “I Wasn’t Myself.”
“So You Said.”
“I Wasn’t In My Right Mind.”
“So You Said.”
“Stop Repeating Me!”
“Then Stop Giving Me The Same Answers.”
Ivory Slammed Her Hand Against The Seat. “What Do You Want Me To Say? That I’m Weak? That I Can’t Control My Own Mind? That Sometimes—” She Stopped, Her Breath Hitching.
Duane Waited. His Voice Was Softer When He Spoke Next. “You Were Calling Someone’s Name. Ron. Is That Your Ex?”
Ivory’s Head Snapped Up. “How Do You Know About Ron?”
“You’ve Mumbled That In Your Sleep,More Than Once.” Duane Said. “You Said His Name. More Than Once. You Asked Why He Did This To You. You Didn’t Give Me A Good Explanation That Day I Slept In Your Room, After You Tended My Wound”
Ivory’s Face Went Pale. “I Don’t Want To Talk About It.”
“I’m Not Going To Force You. But I’m Curious.”
“Curiosity Killed The Cat.”
“I’m Not A Cat.”
“You Act Like One. Curious Cat. Always Sneaking Around, Poking Your Nose Where It Doesn’t Belong.”
Duane Laughed. “I’d Say You Were The One Sneaking Around Last Night. Into My Room. Into My Bed. Into My Chest…With Your Chest”
“I Told You, That Wasn’t Me! I Wasn’t In My Right Mind!”
“So You Have Dissociative Episodes.”
Ivory’s Hand Froze Midair. “How Do You Know That?”
“You Were Talking In Your Sleep,” He Said. “You Kept Repeating It. ‘dissociative Episode. Dissociative Episode.’ You Were Crying. You Were Asking Someone To Stop Screaming.”
Ivory Turned Her Face Away, So He Wouldn’t See The Tears Building In Her Eyes.
“You’re Not Normal..”
Duane Laughed Softly. “I’m Not Normal. I’m Just A Poor Driver With A Handsome Face, Remember?”
Ivory Almost Smiled. Almost. “You’re Impossible.”
“You’ve Mentioned.”
—
Mbs – Topmost Floor – Ron And Maeve’s Office – Morning
The Office Was In Chaos.
Designs Were Strewn Across The Table, Half-finished Sketches Scattered Everywhere. Staff Members Rushed In And Out, Trying To Finalize The Gown That Would Supposedly Win The Award.
Ron And Maeve Sat On The Leather Couch, Phones In Hand.
“She’s Not Picking Up,” Ron Said, His Voice Laced With Frustration.
“She Never Picks Up,” Maeve Snapped. “Her Line Is Always Switched Off. It’s Like She’s Avoiding Us Deliberately.”
“She Is Avoiding Us Deliberately.”
Maeve Threw Her Phone Against The Wall. It Shattered On Impact. “I’m Going To Kill That Woman! Our House Is Rotting! The Dishes Are Piled High! And She Thinks She Can Just—just Disappear?!”
Ron Stood And Walked Over To Her, Placing His Hands On Her Shoulders. “Relax, Baby. I Have A Plan.”
Maeve Looked Up. “What Plan?”
He Whispered Something In Her Ear.
Her Expression Shifted From Rage To Slow, Spreading Satisfaction.
“Really?” She Asked, Her Lips Curving Into Something Dark And Victorious.
“Really.”
She Pulled Him Into A Deep, Hungry Kiss.
“Now That’s What I Call A Plan,” She Murmured Against His Lips.
—
Ivory’s Fashion Empire – The Lobby – Afternoon
Beauty Spotted Duane The Moment She Walked In.
She Practically Skipped Over To Him, Her Face Bright, Her Eyes Gleaming.
“Duane!” She Chirped. “I Was Wondering If Maybe We Could Hang Out Tomorrow? Just The Two Of Us. Grab Some Food, Walk Around, Have A Good Time.”
Duane Hesitated. “I’m Going Home Tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Beauty’s Face Fell. “Like… To See Your Family?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, That’s Sweet. But What About Sunday? Or Monday?”
“I’m Not Sure About That.”
“Okay. Well, Let Me Know When You Are.” She Leaned In Slightly, Her Voice Dropping To Something Warmer, More Intimate. “I Really Want To Hang Out With You Again. Alone.”
Duane Stepped Back, Creating A Careful Distance. “I’ll Let You Know.”
Beauty’s Smile Faltered Slightly, But She Recovered Quickly.
“Okay. Well, I’ll Be Here Waiting.”
She Walked Away, Her Hips Swaying Just A Little More Than Necessary.
Duane Watched Her Go.
Something About Her Felt Off.
He Shook It Off And Headed For His Usual Spot.
—
Ivory’s Fashion Empire – Design Studio – Afternoon
The Studio Was Buzzing With Frantic Energy.
Sewing Machines Whirred. Designers Scurried Back And Forth. Fabric Swatches Were Pinned, Unpinned, And Repinned.
The Dress For The Award Ceremony Was Beginning To Take Shape. It Was Stunning — A Deep Emerald Green, Elegant And Sharp And Modern.
Ivory Moved Through The Room, Inspecting Every Detail, Her Eyes Sharp And Critical. She Didn’t Even Need To Speak. Her Presence Demanded And Commanded Attention.
“Tighter Stitching Here,” She Instructed, Pointing To One Of The Seams. “And I Want The Bodice Adjusted. It’s Not Sitting Right.”
The Designer Nodded And Rushed To Make The Changes.
Ivory Walked A Few Steps Away.
“Ms. Bennett,” Came A Small, Timid Voice.
She Turned To Find One Of The Junior Designers, Trembling Slightly, Holding A Small Sketch.
“I Had An Idea,” She Said. “If You Don’t Mind, I Know You’re Busy, But I Just Thought Maybe…”
Ivory Took The Sketch.
She Studied It For A Long Moment.
“This Is Actually Good,” She Said Finally. “Better Than Anything The Senior Team Has Produced.”
The Junior Designer Blinked. “R-really?”
“Yes. I Want You To Work On It. Create A Full Prototype. Show Me What You Can Do.”
The Girl’s Face Lit Up. “Thank You, Ms. Bennett!”
She Ran Off, Practically Floating.
Ivory Watched Her Go.
For A Moment, She Allowed Herself To Feel The Satisfaction Of Someone Else Succeeding. Then She Pushed It Away.
No Room For Softness.
—
Abigail’s Mansion – Afternoon
Abigail Had Been Trying Tyler’s Number For Hours.
Nothing. It Went Straight To Voicemail Every Time.
She Threw Her Phone On The Bed, Pacing Across The Room. Her Stomach Churned Again.
She Felt Nauseatic And Sensitive To Smells.
Her Heart Slammed Against Her Ribs.
She Sat Down On The Cold Tile Floor, Her Back Against The Wall, Pressing A Hand Over Her Stomach.
“Am I…?” She Whispered To The Empty Room.
No One Answered.
She Grabbed Her Phone Again, Scrolling Through Her Contacts.
Tyler’s Number. Again.
This Time, It Connected.
“Abigail?” His Voice Was Raspy, Ragged, Like He Hadn’t Slept In Days.
___
Prestige High School – Hallway – Afternoon
Hazel Walked Through The Hallway, Her Bag Slung Over One Shoulder.
She Was In A Good Mood. Mitchell Had Smiled At Her Earlier. Penelope Was Being Her Usual Funny Self. Life Felt Good.
She Took Another Step.
Her Foot Slipped.
She Didn’t Have Time To React — Her Feet Slid Out From Under Her, Her Body Lurching Forward, Her Head Cracking Against The Edge Of The Stairs.
There Was Water On The Floor. Someone Had Left Water On The Floor. Too Late, She Saw The Glint Of A Mop Bucket A Few Feet Away, The Tip Of A Mop Resting In The Puddle Someone Had Clearly Made.
But She Didn’t Have Time To Think Further.
She Started Rolling Down The Stairs.
“Hazel!” Penelope Screamed.
Hazel Crashed Into The Wall At The Bottom, Her Head Cracking Against The Tile.
Blood.
So Much Blood.
She Didn’t Get Up.
Mitchell Stood Frozen.
His Face Went White.
“Mitchell, Call For Help!” Penelope Screamed, Already Crouching By Hazel’s Side.
“I—i Can’t—”
“Call For Help!”
He Fumbled With His Phone, His Hands Shaking As He Dialed Emergency Services.
Hazel Lay On The Floor, Her Eyes Closed, Her Head Bleeding Onto The Tile.
—
Brooke Residence – Afternoon
Celeste Sat At The Kitchen Table, Pen In Hand, Paper Spread Out Before Her.
She Had Been Working On The Plan For Her Restaurant For Hours.
A Small Space. Just Big Enough For A Few Tables. Simple Menu — The Food She Knew How To Cook Best. Affordable. Good Quality. Warm.
Her Dream Was Finally Becoming Real.
The Name Hit Her Suddenly.
Este’s Restaurant.
She Wrote It Down, Stared At It, And Smiled.
It Was Perfect.
Her Phone Buzzed. She Ignored It.
Then The Front Door Opened.
She Looked Up, Expecting Luis.
Two Huge Men Filled The Doorway.
Her Eyes Went Wide. “Who Are You—”
Before She Could Finish, A Cloth Was Pressed Over Her Mouth And Nose.
She Struggled, Her Hands Clawing At The Arms That Held Her. But The Sedative Was Strong, Too Strong.
Her Vision Blurred. Her Limbs Went Heavy.
The Last Thing She Saw Was The Floor Rushing Up Toward Her Face, And Then Everything Went Dark.
—
Tbc.
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