Chapter 89

Chapter 89

"What's Jessica's current position?" Calliope asked her secretary in a low voice.

The secretary quickly responded, "She's a criminal investigation consultant. She scored highest in the interview overall. Her résumé is impressive. She came from City Police Department's Major Crimes Unit. Her professional capabilities are exceptional."

"Indeed." A rare hint of appreciation curved Calliope's lips. "That calm composure of hers reminds me of myself when I was younger."

She recalled Jessica crouched on the ground earlier, the focused intensity in those clear, bright eyes. There had been no impatience, no showmanship, only a quiet determination to solve the problem.

Then she thought of her own daughter, who only knew how to whine and complain, and Calliope couldn't help but sigh.

If only Isolde had evenhalf of Jessica's independence and sense of responsibility, perhaps she could finally sleep soundly at night.

This inexplicable sense of kinship made her feel an unusual fondness for the young woman named Jessica.

Jessica remained completely unaware of this. She returned to her patrol car, put the minor incident out of her mind, and continued her afternoon rounds.

As evening approached, her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was an unknown number.

She hesitated briefly before connecting her Bluetooth earpiece.

"Jessica." The voice on the other end was one she'd almost forgotten—cold, familiar, male.

James.

Jessica frowned, her tone distant. "What do you want?"

"Has Sarah contacted you?" James's voice sounded somewhat agitated, completely devoid of his usual composure.

Jessica felt a surge of irritation. She wanted nothing more to do with any of them. "No."

"She's missing." James lowered his voice, his tone less concerned than annoyed by a troublesome burden. "Her family won't stop calling me. If you know where she is, you'd better—"

"James," Jessica cut him off coldly, "I'll say this once more: I don't know. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." She paused, her voice utterly emotionless. "You seem to have forgotten—Sarah and I stopped being friends a long time ago. Whether she lives or dies is none of my concern."

Silence on the other end.

Just as Jessica thought he'd have the sense to hang up, James suddenly spoke again, his tone oddly hesitant, almost reluctant. "Jessica, you... you should be careful. Sarah, she..."

"She what?" Jessica pressed sharply.

James seemed to snap back to awareness, abruptly falling silent, only managing a vague, "Nothing. Just... watch yourself."

With that, he hurriedly disconnected.

The dial tone buzzed in her earpiece. Jessica felt that ominous premonition rising again.

Sarah missing? And what was that cryptic warning James couldn't finish?

She shook her head, forcing herself to stop thinking about it. Whatever was happening, it had nothing to do with her anymore.

 

By the time her shift ended, the city lights had begun to glow.

Jessica declined Michael's text asking her to dinner and walked alone toward the bus stop. She'd barely left the precinct when her phone rang again. This time, it was her former landlord.

"Jessica, you need to come back right away! Someone's been sitting outside your old place all afternoon saying they need to see you urgently. Won't leave no matter what I say!" The landlord sounded thoroughly exasperated.

Jessica's heart sank. Who would be looking for her?

Suppressing her unease, she hailed a cab back to the shabby old apartment building that no longer belonged to her.

The moment she arrived, she spotted a figure huddled in the corner of the stairwell.

The person wore a thin, shabby trench coat. Their hair was dull and disheveled, their frame alarmingly gaunt, almost blending into the cold, dreary surroundings. If not for the face—still vaguely recognizable beneath the haggard exterior—Jessica would never have identified the wretched woman before her as Sarah, who'd once strutted around like a pampered peacock.

Jessica's footsteps halted.

She didn't approach. Didn't speak. Just stared coldly.

Then she turned to leave.

She had no sympathy left for this woman.

"Jessica!" Sarah's hoarse, tearful cry rang out behind her.

She lunged forward, grabbing Jessica's arm with surprising strength. "Jessica, don't go! I was wrong. I know I was wrong! Please help me. You're the only one who can help me now."

Jessica shook her off, stepping back to maintain a safe distance, her gaze glacial.

"I can't help you."

"Yes, you can!" Seeing Jessica unmoved, tears streamed down Sarah's face.

She dropped to her knees with a thud, clutching desperately at Jessica's legs, sobbing hysterically. "Jessica, we were best friends! Have you forgotten college? When you were sick, I carried you downstairs.Have you forgotten all of that?"

She was trying to use those faded memories to awaken the last shreds of softness in Jessica's heart.

Unfortunately, Jessica's heart had long since hardened to iron through Sarah's repeated schemes and betrayals.

"Sarah," Jessica looked down at her, voice devoid of emotion, "save your theatrics. I saw through you a long time ago."

Realizing her attempt at playing the pitiful girl failed, Sarah's tragic expression froze.

She slowly lifted her head. In those tear-swollen eyes, all the pleading vanished, replaced by the venomous madness of someone backed into a corner.

She suddenly began to laugh—a shrill, piercing sound that echoed eerily through the silent stairwell.

"Jessica, are you satisfied now? You must be so pleased with yourself!" She staggered to her feet, pointing at her own face, her voice rising shrilly. "Look at me! Look what I've become! This is all your fault! I'm like this because of you!"

Jessica watched this display of twisted blame-shifting and couldn't help but scoff. Her fault? The world truly contained people shameless enough to pin the consequences of their own greed and stupidity on others.

"Satisfied?" Jessica let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Sarah, why would I feel satisfied seeing you like this? Did I force you to become what you are today?"