WHITNEY

Why has he done it?
Had he seen me that day I came out of this secret room?
I couldn't stop asking myself about this.

I was in some way scared that maybe he had an intuition that prevented him from trusting me.

What should I do now?

Petterson had warned me not to be a silly girl.
What did he connote by that?

Was he aware of this condition of the door and prevented me from forcing it?

Or did he want me to enter it whatever trick I would use?
I was lost, unable to take any decisions. My heart was drumming, the beats it made could be read through my chest by the way I was inhaling and exhaling.

I was wasting many precious minutes.

I couldn't find a response by acting as I was doing, I should stay cool and try to concoct something, to take the wisest decision.

I climbed the stairs which led to our chamber, and sat on the bed, with a sigh I started analyzing the different options I had.

Leaving that door closed and waiting for another opportunity would certainly put an end to the presumption he had toward me.

However, it would require my presence at his side for more time, and the risk to have sex with him would rise, though it was something I didn't want to happen.

On the other hand, forcing that door would help me to get the proof I wanted yet it would confirm whatever was thought of me, I would have no justification to brandish against what I would have committed.

Otherwise, I would not be obliged to have sex with him and would keep on my pride.

What was the wisest choice?

After a moment of silence, comparing the two options I had, I stood abruptly from the mattress, deciding this asshole would never touch me, that I would never feel his fucking cock inside of me.

My decision had been taken.
But how would I proceed now?

I must open that door without making a noise, not to awaken the vigilance of those who stayed there.
Maybe they were spying on me.

I walked into the room, thinking of the method I would use, and I remembered I had seen Armand ranging his handgun in this chamber.

It had a drawer beneath his wardrobe, I rushed forward, on my knees opened it, and withdrew his firearm.

I presumed he hadn't closed this one because he wasn't aware that I knew it.

I also found this thing they put at the end of the pistol in some film to shut down the noise it generates.

Luck was following me.

I climbed down the stairs, hiding the gun to look around if there was anybody susceptible to entering.

I held the pistol and pointed it at the lock with my trembling hand, I was panicking.

Closing my eyes for a twinkle, I shot this lock, and the door was open, my heart ran into my chest and I looked around, nobody had suspected anything.

I reached the step of no coming back.
After what I did, if he met me there after his trip, he would murder me without any remorse.

I sneaked into the office taking a chair to lock the door from inside.

I had just two days left. He shouldn't meet me there on his return.

I opened the secret entry and climbed down the stairs, I whirled on my heels looking at the huge space full of files.

I walked and looked at every flat, and didn't know where to start.
I sat on the floor discouraged, knowing it was impossible to find what I needed in this heap of files with just two days left.

My ass was on the floor, my eyes brightened by the tears of discouragement filled in and I unexpectedly noticed an indication that gave me more hope.

On every tier was mentioned a date, It was the date to which the file referred.

I stood, wiping away the tears that had started dropping down my cheeks, I had just to find the tier referring to the years of this homicide.

I walked into this huge room, looking at tier after tier, expecting to find the one referring to 2012.

After almost two hours, I found it, at the bottom of the room, it was the first tier.

Why I hadn't thought of it earlier, it was obvious it should be at the bottom cause it was when he started his career as a murderer.
I could be silly sometimes.

Now I had to find where he had tidied the one considering me, my family. There was an uncountable number of documents on this shelf, I presumed other victims.

If everything was arranged in order, the one considering me should be the first one. I looked carefully among the pile of documents starting with the first manuscript from the left side.

I took it, and this time I was exact, the first name I saw there gave me the confirmation I needed.

My father's name William Parker was so visible that it was impossible not to identify it.

A glance inside the document, and what I read was unbelievable.

What this man had made my father sign that day was his testament.

A testament he had written, his last wills for my father, and within this was mentioned that he owed everything (the property and all the proportion he had into this business).

As I read it, I remembered the day when he threatened my dad with his pistol and forced him to sign this bullshit.

I dab away the tears coming down my cheek with a sigh, I recovered my courage.

I would never forget it, they would pay.

Yes, they.
Both Armand and Petterson, I would make them fall.

I took out my phone from my pocket and entered the app to see if I always had the voice note I registered when Petterson was accusing Armand.

He hadn't noticed when I started registering what he was saying that day.

Almost all our conversations had been registering though the only one I needed was the confession he made that famous day about Armand.

He should also pay to be in collaboration with this murderer for so long.

I should be the one to put him under dust or else he would lead me without any remorse to my demise.