Chapter 85: The Distance Between Us

Chapter 85: The Distance Between Us
Dennis’s phone buzzed. The screen lit up with an unknown number. He picked it up quickly.

“Hello, who is this?” he asked, already on edge.

“Dennis, it’s me—Julia.”

“Julia?” he sat up straighter, voice suddenly tense. “Hi. What’s going on?”

“Is Lydia still with you at the hospital?”

Dennis blinked. “No… she left over two hours ago. Isn’t she home yet?”

“No. She’s not back. Melissa and I have both tried calling her, and we haven’t been able to reach her at all.”

Dennis’s heart dropped. “You’re also not able to reach her?”

“No. Her number isn’t going through.”

“I’ll keep trying,” Dennis said, already opening his messages. “If you hear from her, let me know immediately.”

“Please do the same,” Julia replied. Her voice shook a little before the call ended.

Dennis was already redialing Lydia’s number when his parents—alerted by his sudden change in mood—moved closer.

“What’s going on?” his mother asked. “Is Lydia unreachable? She’s not home yet?”

Dennis turned to his father. “Dad, you saw Lydia get into the cab, right? Outside the hospital?”

“Yes, I did,” Mr. James replied. “I stayed there until the cab pulled off and disappeared from sight.”

“Do you think she might’ve gone somewhere else first?” his mother asked, trying to stay calm.

“No, she’s not like that,” Dennis said. “She would have told someone. At least call Julia.”

Without another word, he picked up his phone and called Detective Philip.

“Detective,” he said quickly as the call connected, “I think Lydia is missing. The last time any of us saw her, she got into a taxi just in front of the hospital.”

There was a short silence.

“We just received a report,” the detective said. “A taxi was reported stolen earlier today. The driver was attacked and tied up. I’ll pull up the hospital’s CCTV footage and check if the taxi Lydia entered matches the description of the stolen one.”

“Please keep me posted,” Dennis said, voice cracking slightly. “I feel so useless right now.”

His parents stared at him, panicked.

“What’s going on?” his mom asked, nearly out of breath. “Why are you calling the detective?”

Dennis swallowed. “I’ll explain later. I need to figure this out first.”

Lydia’s head was spinning. As the man in black slowly removed his face covering and cap, she felt something inside her crack.

She blinked hard, hoping—praying—she was seeing wrong.

“Victor?” she gasped.

He gave her a sick smile. “Surprised?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know,” Victor replied coldly. “I waited for you. I gave you time. I gave you space. And this is how you repay me?”

“What are you talking about?” she said, genuinely confused. “When did I ever betray you? What promise are you even referring to?”

Victor’s face darkened.

“You’re really going to sit there and pretend you don’t remember?” he snapped. “I’m trying my best to stay calm, but this game you’re playing is pushing me.”

He hurled the flashlight in his hand at the wall. It bounced off and struck Lydia on her arm.

“Ow!” she cried, flinching in pain.

Victor rushed toward her. “Oh no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he said, trying to touch her face.

Lydia pulled back, disgusted.

He paused, studied her face, then sneered. “Oh, I get it. When Dennis touches you, it’s fine. But when it’s me, you act like I’m some disease.”

Before she could react, he slapped her—hard—and shoved her back onto the couch.

Victor climbed on top of her, grabbing her face, forcing her to look at him. Then, horrifyingly, he began licking her cheek.

Lydia screamed. “Stop! Please, stop!”

“Shut up!” he yelled. “You gave what was mine to Dennis, didn’t you? You let him have you, but not me!”

“No!” Lydia shouted, her voice shaking. “I never did anything with Dennis! Or anyone! Please, I’m begging you!”

“Begging won’t change anything now,” Victor muttered, furious.

“Think of me like Melissa,” Lydia tried desperately. “Would you let someone do this to Melissa?”

That stopped him.

His breathing slowed. His hands hovered in place.

“You’re not Melissa,” he muttered. “And you chose not to be Melissa.”

Then, without warning, he grabbed the hem of her skirt and tore at her underwear.

“Victor, please!” she screamed. “I’m begging you. Don’t do this!”

Suddenly, his hands froze. His face twitched with conflict. He got off her and stepped away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky now. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

Meanwhile, at the Wright residence, Mrs. Wright was pacing in the sitting room. She and Melissa were both worried—Lydia still hadn’t shown up, and no one could reach her.

A knock on the gate startled them.

Mrs. Wright hurried to open it, only to find Detective Philip and another officer outside.

“Good evening, detective,” she said, already feeling uneasy. “Is everything alright?”

“Is Victor home?” the detective asked directly.

Melissa was now standing behind her mother. “Why are you looking for my brother?” she demanded.

Detective Philip exhaled deeply.

“We’re here to arrest him,” he said. “We have concrete evidence connecting him to a recent murder.”

“What?!” Mrs. Wright gasped. She stumbled back, holding onto the gate for support.

“What are you talking about?” Melissa said, stunned.

“The body of the woman found in the alley behind Mr. Mark’s café—she was Victor’s girlfriend,” the detective explained. “He killed her when she discovered he was stalking Lydia. That’s why most of their so-called dates were always in Lydia’s neighbourhood.”

“No… that can’t be right,” Melissa said slowly. “Victor doesn’t even talk about a girlfriend. He said she was studying abroad. She…”

Her words trailed off. Something clicked in her mind. Come to think of it—Victor never called anyone, never messaged anyone romantically. It was like he was hiding a secret life.

“My son would never…” Mrs. Wright said weakly. “Melissa, say something…”

But Melissa couldn’t speak.

Detective Philip continued. “Victor also framed Mr. Mark for her murder. We found Brian’s broken phone today—tossed in a bush, not far from where his body was discovered. Based on messages and voice notes we recovered, it’s clear Victor threatened Brian repeatedly. He was the one who attacked him, killed him, and dumped the body.”

Melissa dropped to her knees, trembling.

It felt like the world had collapsed beneath her.

The brother who had always been sweet and calm… was a killer. A manipulator. A liar. Someone who let her cry over Brian’s death while knowing the truth.

The detective pulled out a tablet and showed them security footage. In it, Victor was seen attacking a taxi driver, stealing the vehicle, then picking up Lydia from the hospital.

Melissa stood, her face blank.

“Are you absolutely sure?” she asked.

“Yes,” the detective replied. “We weren’t certain at first, but Dennis confirmed it today. Victor also attacked Lydia before, and Dennis too.”

Tears streamed down Melissa’s face.

She couldn’t even scream. Her voice was gone. Her trust was shattered.

She had loved Victor as a brother. Now, all she felt was hatred.

She looked up, her eyes cold and determined. “Victor isn’t home. He said he went to a workshop, but now I know that was a lie. He made his choice. Now I’ll make mine.”

She turned to Detective Philip. “We must get Lydia back. At all costs.”

Mrs. Wright sat down on the floor, too shocked to move. Her eyes were hollow, her hands shaking. “What went wrong in this house?” she whispered.

Melissa turned to the detective again. “Let’s go to Julia. She needs to know.”