Becoming Strangers Again by Lily

MAYA It was supposed to be a normal evening. A simple walk to the corner store to grab sice cream, nothing more, nothing less. But life has a way of twisting the ordinary into something completely unexpected.

I had barely turned the corner when two police cars screeched to a halt right in front of me.

I didn't think much of it at first. This was a busy neighborhood; cops showed up all the time.

I had no reason to be nervous. I wasn't hiding from anyone. I had done nothing wrong. Yet, as soon as the car doors swung open and three uniformed officers stepped out, all walking straight toward me, a sudden chill ran down my spine. Maybe I should be hiding. The oldest of the three stopped just inches away, his gaze fixed on me. "Are you Ms. Maya Hems?" I swallowed hard and nodded.

Without hesitation, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Instinctively, I took a step back.

"You need to cwith us to the station for questioning," he said, his tone firm but not aggressive.

My eyes darted to the cuffs in his hands. My pulse kicked up a notch. "If it's just questioning, why are you cuffing me?" "You'll find out once we get there," he replied, snapping one cuff around my wrist before I could protest further.

The world blurred aroundas they ledto the backseat of the police car. The door shut, and within seconds, we were speeding toward the station.

******* The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a single overhead bulb that cast long shadows on the cold, gray walls. I sat rigid in the cold metal chair, doing my best to appear indifferent-calm, even-but the truth was, my heart was pounding against my ribs. I took a slow breath, forcing my voice to stay steady. "What exactly am I doing here, Officer?" Before the man across fromcould answer, the door creaked open. Another officer stepped in, this one carrying a file. Placing the file on the desk, he flipped open the laptop in front of him. His gaze met mine, and he gavea small, almost apologetic smile. "I sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting," he said.

Liar.

Everything about his expression toldhe wasn't sorry in the slightest.

I leaned forward, locking eyes with him. "Why am I here?" His smile faded. "We have squestions for you regarding the death of Mr. Richard." A chill ran down my spine. My fingers curled into fists beneath the table as I fought to keep my expression neutral.

"I've already answered all your questions," I said, keeping my voice measured. "Why are we doing this again?" The officer didn't blink. Instead, he turned a page in his file and spoke again.

"And we also have squestions regarding the missing sons of Ryan Williams." My stomach twisted into knots.

What the hell was going on? Had Clover thrownunder the bus? Clearing my throat, I folded my arms tightly across my chest. I wasn't about to let them intimidate me. "Go ahead with your questions," I said coolly. "But let's get one thing straight-this is a waste of time. I had nothing to do with Richard's death or the missing triplets." The young officer's lips curled into a tight, knowing smile, as if he had heard similar declarations a hundred times before. He leaned back in his chair, mirroring my posture, and studiedwith unsettling patience. "Let us be the judge of whether this is a futile effort or not." He paused briefly, then asked, "Did you see Mr. Richard on the day he died?" I didn't hesitate. "No. I never saw him that day." He nodded slightly, as if cataloging my response. "Alright. Then can you walkthrough where you were that entire day?" "I was at home," I said flatly. "Didn't step out. Had no reason to." The officer raised a brow. "So, just to be clear-you never saw Mr. Richard that day, and you stayed hthe entire time. Correct?" I held his gaze. "Correct." Silence stretched between us.

Something about the way he watchedmade my skin crawl. He wasn't just listening-he was waiting. Waiting for what, exactly? "Your mother, Salome," he continued, his tone deceptively casual, "do you recall where she was that day?" My mind stuttered for a split second. Why were they bringing up my mother? I hadn't thought to ask her what she told them-hadn't expected I'd need to. Stupid mistake.

Keeping my face neutral, I gave what I hoped was the safest answer. "I don't remember where she was." The officer hummed as if amused.

"We can help you recall," he said smoothly Then, with a slow tilt of his head he added, "Your mother told us she was hwith you all day. His gaze sharpened. "Funny how you don't remember that." Shit. Shit.

My pulse pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to stay calm. I shrugged, keeping my voice even. "It wasn't a big deal. It's no wonder I forgot." He didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached for the laptop and turned the screen toward me.

"You remember this?" I barely glanced at the image before shifting my gaze back to him. A pair of silver cufflinks lay in the center of the screen-polished, expensive-looking.

"I don't wear cufflinks," I said smoothly.

The officer smiled, but there was no warmth in it.

And in that moment, I knew.

This was a trap.

"I figured," he said flatly, watchinglike a predator sizing up its prey. "So this doesn't look familiar in any way?" I shook my head without hesitation. "No, it doesn't." He nodded again, as if expecting that answer, then pulled the laptop back toward him. "This was foundin the air vent of the estate where you used to live with your mother," be said, his voice casual-too casual.