Guilty

Guilty


My breath hitched, my lips trembling as the truth slammed into me so hard I almost staggered.

My sister did it.

She killed Yola.

The air around me felt too heavy to breathe. My chest tightened, panic crawling up my throat like poison. I shouldn’t have told her. I knew I shouldn’t have. The moment the words left my mouth, I had felt it, that quiet warning in my gut, but I ignored it.

Now someone was dead.

Yola was dead.

Felicia noticed the sudden change in my expression almost immediately. Her casual posture stiffened, and she took a few quick steps toward me, her eyes scanning my face.

“Girl, are you okay?” she asked, her brows knitting together in concern.

I shook my head slowly, my thoughts a chaotic mess. “I don’t know,” I said honestly, my voice shaking. “I just… I don’t feel happy about any of this shit. I mean, someone just died.”

The words felt strange in my mouth, unreal. Dead. Gone. Just like that.

Ellie was not someone to joke with. I’d always known that. There was something about her, something cold, sharp, and dangerous beneath her calm surface. But this? This was far beyond anything I imagined.

That girl was dangerous as hell.

A shiver ran down my spine as a terrifying thought crossed my mind.

How was I even sure she wouldn’t kill me too?

What if one wrong move, one wrong word, and I became the next body everyone whispered about?

My heart pounded harder as my thoughts spiraled out of control.
I didn’t know what to do next.

Felicia sighed beside me, crossing her arms. “Well… tragic, right?” she said casually. Then she shrugged. “To be fair though, she kind of deserved it.”

My eyes widened in shock. I stepped closer to her instinctively, lowering my voice. “Girl, don’t say that,” I whispered urgently. “Yes, she was an asshole, just like you said. But no one deserves to die.”

Felicia rolled her eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re right, you’re right,” she said. “Still… this whole thing is crazy. I mean, who would even shoot her?”

My pulse quickened instantly.

“I don’t know,” I replied quickly, forcing my face to stay neutral. “Why would someone kill her? That’s horrible.”

The lie burned my tongue.

Felicia hummed thoughtfully, clearly already losing interest. “People are wild these days,” she muttered. Then she glanced at her watch. “Anyway, I’m heading back to my office. I’ve got a pile of work waiting for me.”

She waved dismissively. “See you later.”

And just like that, she walked away.

I stood there alone, frozen, feeling hollow, like something important had been ripped out of me. My hands felt cold, my body numb, my thoughts loud and suffocating.

I felt stupid. Guilty. Terrified.

I hadn’t pulled the trigger, but I might as well have. If I hadn’t opened my mouth… if I hadn’t trusted my own sister… Yola might still be alive.

Now I was trapped between fear and silence.

If I spoke, I could die.

If I stayed quiet, I’d have to live with this guilt forever.

I stood there feeling like someone who had just lost their cat, confused, helpless, and aching in ways I didn’t even know how to explain.

And deep down, one terrifying truth settled in my chest:

Nothing would ever be the same again.

I headed back to my office and collapsed into my chair the moment I shut the door behind me. My hands moved to my temples as I rubbed them gently, but it didn’t help. My skin crawled with goosebumps, like something unseen was watching me.

Gosh… I’m such a horrible person.

If I had known—if I had even suspected—that my sister was a hired killer, I would have kept my mouth shut. I wouldn’t have said a single word. Not a cough. Not a whisper. Nothing.

But I didn’t know.

And now someone was dead.

The rest of the day went downhill from there. My mood was completely ruined. I stared at my computer screen for long minutes without understanding a thing on it. Emails piled up. Tasks were assigned and reassigned, yet my hands barely moved.

Guilt ate me alive.

The more I thought about everything, the tighter my chest felt. And the more scared I became of Ellie. What if she thought I talked too much?

What if she decided I was a risk?

The thought alone made my fingers tremble.

I jumped slightly when my office door clicked open. My heart raced until I saw Zion standing there. He walked in with his usual bright smile, the kind that made everyone feel at ease. I forced myself to smile back, even though it didn’t reach my eyes.

“How are you, Lyla?” he asked kindly.

I nodded quickly. “Fine, thank you.”

He studied me for a second, like he wanted to say more, then simply nodded. “Well, Sir Diego requests to see you in his office.”

My stomach twisted immediately.

Again?

What does he want from me now? Lord, have mercy.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” I replied.

Zion smiled once more and left, closing the door behind him. The silence returned, heavier than before. I let out a long sigh and pushed myself up from the chair, straightening my clothes like that would somehow prepare me for whatever was coming.

I walked down the hallway toward Sir Diego’s office, my heels echoing softly against the floor. Each step made my nerves worse. When I finally reached his door, I knocked lightly before pushing it open.

Once again, I was welcomed by the fascinating design of his office. Everything looked expensive and perfectly arranged, from the glass walls to the polished desk. Sir Diego sat majestically in his chair, swinging it lazily as if he had all the time in the world. When his eyes landed on me, he stopped moving.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I greeted politely.

He nodded once. “Good afternoon.”

His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he spoke again. “How are you coping with the work?”

I nodded quickly, like I’d rehearsed the answer in my head. “Perfectly fine, sir. Thank you.”

He hummed softly, then reached for a file beside him. He pulled out a paper and dropped it on the t
able between us.

“Get ready,” he said calmly. “We’re going on a trip to Singapore.”

My breath caught.

Singapore?