3 Chapter 3: Night at the Site

"Coffee?"

Elvery is currently in the living room of the Smith's residence where people, like her, drop by to pay respect and give comfort to the bereaved family.

Now, she is gazing up to a 45-year-old woman who is holding two cups of coffee. She gladly accepts one and utters her thanks.

"My condolences, Mrs. Smith." She says then she slightly bows her head.

"Thank you." The woman smiles but Elvery is sure it has sadness and pain behind it.

The woman pulls herself down and sits beside Elvery.

Lila is on the opposite side of the room, chatting with her friends and classmates. Elvery doesn't mind at all that Lila talks to them. She understands that her friend has other friends too.

She glances at the woman beside her. Based on the way she dresses and talks, Mrs. Smith is a simple (yet elegant) woman despite living a wealthy life. She admires her for that.

"What's your name, dear?" Mrs. Smith asks, then raises the cup to her mouth and drinks.

"I'm Elvery Warren from the town of Burion, but I have been staying here in the neighborhood for a couple of weeks already."

"New neighbor?" The tone of excitement escapes her tongue, "Oh, I'd love to meet your parents. Where are they?"

She really is Lila's mom, Elvery says in her mind, she's friendly and nice, too.

"They're at home. I'm just having a solo vacation (?) for a few months," she says.

"Such an independent young lady," Mrs. Smith commends.

Elvery likes to laugh at what she said. Oh, if Mrs. Smith only knows that her decisions in life are still dependent on her parents...

She lets out a soft sigh.

"By the way, you can call me Aunt Lex, dear. Mrs. Smith is way too formal."

"Sure, I love to." She smiles.

Besides her innate sweetness and friendliness, another thing Elvery admires in this woman is her strength. She remains calm, caring, and hopeful despite the tragedy their family is facing.

When Elvery asked her how she manages to be positive, she said, "I need to. For Mark....for Lila...for my family, I need to fight."

Elvery takes another sip from the cup when Aunt Lex speaks again.

"You know what, Elvery," Her tone becomes sad. There is pain from betrayal too. "I still can't believe that Aida did this to us."

Aida?

"W-who's Aida?"

"She's our maid," she explains. "This morning when we woke up, she was not here, only a few of her things were left in her room. Then the news came that—" she pauses to prevent tears from falling, "—that Mark is dead."

Then she looks at Elvery. Her face is serious. "Do you think that's a coincidence?"

Elvery doesn't know. She is also bothered and confused about Aida. And the visitor. Should she tell Aunt Lex about the visitor?

"I-i'm not really sure," she answers.

"But is she a suspect?" She manages to ask.

"Much like a person of interest. Maybe she knows something that's why she escaped. The police are looking for her because of her suspicious disappearance."

"I don't think she's the one who did this crime, though." Aunt Lex continues. "She's a petite young woman, you know. She can't strike two men, can she?" She lets out a short giggle before drinking her coffee.

Elvery just smiles back.

Sure, Aida can't. But how about the strange visitor? Can he? Did he?

~ ~ ~

It's late at night when Elvery came home from the wake. She lies on her bed, eyes unconsciously fixed at the ceiling. She tries to sleep but she couldn't.

Arghh, she grunts as she changes her position, this time laying sidewards. She closes her eyes for a moment but opens them again. Change position. Close. Open. Change position. Close. Open.

Unable to sleep, she rises from the bed and sighs. She picks her keys up, goes outside, and drives her motorcycle.

After a few minutes, she finds herself in front of a building with a large tarpaulin printed with "Under Construction". The second branch of MaXa is now deserted and looks forlorn with strips of yellow crime scene tape draped across the site's boundaries.

She doesn't really know what she would do there, but she has the urge to go in.

She enters the doorway. The surroundings are pitch black. She couldn't see anything but darkness and hollow-block walls. She doesn't want to switch the lights on though. That can surely attract attention and she is not planning to let the neighbors know that someone is in the crime scene in the middle of the night.

She brings out her phone to use it as a flashlight, but just before she turns it on, her eyes catch a glimpse of light. What's that? It seems coming from a flashlight, but it's not hers.

Then she hears a mild thud and a creaking of sand. She tries to fix her ears to hear the sound clearly. And yes, someone is walking, very slowly, like he is trying to avoid making other noise.

She catches another flash of light and hears another footstep from behind the wall. Confirmed! She's not alone. There really is someone inside the crime scene other than her.

But who else would be going at the crime scene at this hour? If it's the police, why didn't he/they turned on the lights? If it's not the police, what is/are he/they doing here?

By the roaming of light through the darkness, Elvery can tell that that someone behind the wall is searching for something.

She gasps.

Could it be the killer? Is he removing the evidence of his crime? Is he cleaning things up?

She wants to know.

But if it's really the killer, then she is in danger. She hurriedly presses the wake button of the phone.

She needs to call an emergency, but she couldn't press any key. Argh! Why did the phone hang?! Why now?!

She slaps the phone but still, there's no luck.

Surely she wants to know who's behind that wall but she doesn't want to put her life at risk as well. So slowly, she steps backward, wanting to get herself out of the site.

Steps backward. Her hands begin to shake in fear. She can hear her heartbeats' pace, fast as the green car's speed.

Steps backward. Sand and cement creak below her feet as she steps on them. She tries to control her breath but panic sweeps through her body.

Steps backwa—AWW!! Her foot trips against a metal bar on the floor causing her to lose balance. She falls on the ground and collides onto the stacks of cement bags.

She lets out a faint cry for a second but immediately stops when she realizes what has just happened. Her eyes widen in panic.

If there really is someone in the place, he surely heard her.

"Who's that?" And as expected, an alert masculine voice echoes back and forth through the concrete walls of the building.

Argghhh, I'm dead, she thinks as she bites her lower lip in frustration.

Then she hears the familiar creaking of dust on the ground.

She hears footsteps — gradually increasing in volume as if someone is drawing near her.

The footsteps are going towards her.

She can sense it. She can hear it.

The feet stomps with the sound of her heart. Dug-dug, dug-dug.

Panic rises.

Dug-dug, dug-dug.

Tears fall. Hands tremble.

Dug-dug, dug-dug.

I need to get out of here, she silently says.

Dug-dug, dug-dug.

She hurriedly stands up and is about to take a step out of the building when suddenly,

"Too late to escape, girl," the man says in a playful but scary tone.

...and a bright flash of light beams towards her.