The Bad Daughter

The doorbell rang violently, shattering the uneasy silence in the apartment that was left after Sarah's accusation on Laura and her abrupt leave. Max, startled, rushed to open it and found Sarah standing in the dimly lit hallway, her face shadowed but her eyes sharp with determination.

She was back.

Without a word, he stepped aside, letting her enter. She strode in, her boots echoing against the hardwood floor, heading straight for Vivian, who was seated on the couch, still in a daze.

Sarah stood before Vivian, her voice firm yet restrained.

"I couldn't tell you the reason I was here… The reason I came here," she began, "is to ask for your cooperation in this matter. You liked Laura, you trusted her, and you had a bond. If she contacts you, or if you manage to contact her, I need you to let me know immediately."

And why do you think I will tell you? Vivian still pale and visibly shaken said arrogantly

Sarah softened her tone slightly. "I assure you, Vivian, if Laura isn't the killer, we won't make things hard for her. But she needs to come forward. We can't clear her name or investigate properly until she does."

"You know this better than anyone, that she need to cooperate with us!"

Vivian couldn't say more just looked down with her eyes squinted as if she was in an invisible pain.

With those final words, Sarah turned sharply and left, her figure disappearing into the shadowy corridor. The door clicked shut, leaving an oppressive stillness in its wake.

Vivian sat motionless for a few seconds, the weight of Sarah's words settling over her. Then, suddenly, as if struck by a thought, she bolted upright and rushed toward her bedroom. Alarmed, Max followed her, calling out, "wait? Wait! Where are you going?"

She didn't respond. The door slammed shut behind her, and Max hesitated outside, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Inside the room, Vivian frantically grabbed her phone from the bedside table. Her hands trembled as she tried to unlock it, but in her frantic state, she kept entering the wrong pattern.

A small beep followed by the message, "Try again in 30 seconds," flashed on the screen.

Frustration overtook her. She let out a strangled scream and threw the phone onto the couch. The sound of its impact echoed through the room as she collapsed onto the floor, squatting with her head buried in her hands. Her long hair cascaded down, veiling her face like a shroud, as deep, guttural sobs wracked her body.

Max, unable to bear the sound of her despair, entered cautiously. He knelt beside her, gently brushing the strands of hair away from her face. His voice was low, almost a whisper. "It's not your fault, Vivian."

Her teary, bloodshot eyes locked onto his, a mixture of sorrow and defiance flickering within them. Without a word, she pushed his hand away and dragged herself backward, putting distance between them. Her face, now streaked with tears, hardened as she snatched her phone off the couch.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she tried again to unlock it. This time, the pattern was correct. The screen illuminated, and she quickly searched her contacts for Laura's name. She dialed her number, her fingers trembling.

"The number you have dialed is not in service. Please try again later."

Her heart sank, but she didn't stop. She redialed. The same robotic message greeted her, slicing through her hope like a knife.

Her mind raced. She started pacing about the room. And suddenly she looked at her phone again…

Another number. I know another number.

She typed it in hastily. This time, the phone rang. Each buzz felt like an eternity. But no one picked up. She tried again and again, to no avail.

Just as despair began to claw at her, a message notification popped up on the screen. Her breath hitched as she opened it. The text was brief but chilling:

"I am at the company. Come find me. ALONE."

Vivian's heart pounded in her chest as she read the message. She stood abruptly, her resolve steeling. She moved toward her wardrobe, pulling out her formal attire with a determined urgency. Max, realizing something was amiss, followed her to the door.

"Vivian?" he called, his voice tinged with concern. "What's going on? Who was that?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she threw her hair into a tight bun, her bangs falling neatly to frame her face. She pushed him out of the room and locked it after her.

And before he could call after her she came out, picking up her car keys, she brushed past him without a word.

"Vivian!" Max called again, blocking her path. "Where are you going?"

Still silent, she shoved past him.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, he immediately called Sarah. "Detective Blake," he said, his voice urgent, "Vivian is going somewhere. I think she's heading to meet Laura."

"Did she say where?" Sarah's voice crackled on the other end.

"No, but I've got a bad feeling about this. I'm following her. You should bring reinforcements, but I don't think you should approach her yet."

He ended the call abruptly, slipping his phone into his pocket and rushed after her. She was getting into her car. He called after her.

VIVIAN DONOVAN!

But she didn't heed to his loud roar and as he watched helplessly she sped off out of the lot.

Without wasting another moment, he jumped into his car and peeled out of the parking lot after her, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he forcefully stepped on the accelerator.

Vivian's car raced ahead, a blur of determination cutting through the dimly lit streets. She didn't seem to notice Max's car trailing after hers.

The city lights blurred past as the chase continued, tension mounting with each passing second. Vivian's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his mind racing with thoughts of what awaited them at the rooftop. Was this a trap? Was Laura even there? And if she was, what did she want with her?