Chapter 27: The Accusation

I turned slowly.

Samuel stood a few metres away.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

The woman in black smiled.

"Ask him where he was that night."

I looked at Samuel.

"Where were you?"

His face hardened.

"Maya, don't listen to her."

"Just answer me."

"I was at the hospital."

"Can anyone prove that?"

He hesitated.

That hesitation was enough to make my stomach twist.

"Samuel..."

"I was there," he said quietly.

"At the hospital."

"Then why can't you look me in the eye?"

He finally did.

"Because I knew your father was going to die."

My heart stopped.

"What?"

"I didn't know who would kill him."

"You knew he was in danger?"

"Yes."

"And you did nothing?"

"I tried."

The woman laughed.

"You always say that."

Samuel turned towards her.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about."

She stepped closer.

"You were the last person your father called."

Samuel's expression changed.

I stared at him.

"Is that true?"

He said nothing.

"Samuel!"

"Yes."

My voice broke.

"He called me."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to protect you."

"That's it?"

Samuel looked down.

"He also told me not to trust anyone."

I remembered the note.

Don't trust Samuel.

My heart pounded.

"Did you kill him?"

Samuel looked at me.

"No."

The answer came quickly this time.

"I didn't kill your father."

"Then why does everyone keep saying you did?"

"Because someone wants you to believe it."

"Who?"

Before Samuel could answer, my mother's voice came from behind me.

"Me."

Everyone turned.

My mother stepped out of the car.

Her face was wet with tears.

"Mum?"

She looked at Samuel.

"I'm sorry."

Samuel's expression fell.

"Don't."

"I can't keep hiding it."

She turned towards me.

"Samuel didn't kill your father."

I breathed out.

But then she continued.

"He helped cover up what happened."

Silence.

"What does that mean?"

My mother looked at Samuel.

"Tell her."

Samuel closed his eyes.

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small photograph.

He handed it to me.

It showed my father standing outside the hospital.

Beside him was Samuel.

And behind them...

was my mother.

The date printed beneath the photograph was the night my father died.

I looked at Samuel.

"You were all there."

He nodded.

"Your father wasn't murdered at home."

"What?"

"He was taken to the hospital after he was shot."

My hands began to shake.

"He survived the shooting."

I stared at him.

"Then how did he die?"

Samuel's voice dropped.

"Someone entered his hospital room."

"Who?"

He looked at my mother.

My mother whispered:

"Your father wasn't killed by a stranger."

"He was killed by someone he trusted."

I felt my chest tighten.

"Who?"

Nobody answered.

Then Michael suddenly looked towards the road.

His face went pale.

"We need to leave."

"Why?"

He pointed at the photograph in my hands.

"Because that's not the original."

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Michael stepped closer.

"Look at the reflection in the hospital window."

I looked.

There was a person standing behind my father.

A woman.

And around her finger...

was the same snake-shaped ring.

The woman in black smiled.

"Now you understand."

I looked at her.

"Who is she?"

She slowly raised her hand.

The snake ring caught the light.

Then she said something that made my blood run cold.

"Your mother knows exactly who she is."