Chapter 296

The walk back to the apartment with Timothy was tense. The sight of the police officers lingering by the building sent shivers down my spine. As we approached, they couldn't resist taunting us.

"Well, well, if it isn't the lovebirds returning," one of them sneered, a malicious grin on his face. I could feel Timothy's anger radiating, but I tightened my grip on his hand, silently urging him to ignore their baiting.

"Just keep walking, Timothy," I whispered, my own nerves on edge. We passed by them, the tension thick in the air. Once inside the building, I let out a sigh of relief, but my worry lingered.

We settled on the couch in Timothy's apartment and I snuggled into him, embracing his warmth. Timothy broke the silence, his furrowed brow revealing his own unease.

"When you say your mom might become a problem, how exactly? She really suspects me too?" Timothy asked, confusion etched on his face.

I hesitated for a moment, choosing my words carefully. "She does. She's been acting odd ever since Stella's... you know."

His eyes widened in shock. "That’s just perfect. One more person against me.”

I sighed, unsure of how much to reveal. "I hope she hasn’t been talking to the police. It’s not like she’d know much."

Timothy's expression darkened. "I’m sure she already did. I’m sure they interrogated my father too, unless they’re really sure it’s me.”

I nodded reluctantly. "Probably, so. Your family was so cold toward you. It was disgusting to see."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "That’s typical of them. Someone smears the family name, suddenly they don’t exist."

I hesitated again, my own doubts nagging at me. "They did seem like they were ready to cut you off. But even I find it hard to believe they would let you fall so easily."

“Family can’t be more brutal than strangers. You should know, Evie.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I should? Bruce wasn’t family.”

“Not him,” Timothy muttered, laying back on the couch. “Your mom. She just pops into your life with no rhyme or reason. It seems odd.”

I hummed. “Well, she didn’t just pop in. Probably found out about me from all the news coverage. Got curious.”

Timothy shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. "You can't trust her blindly, Evie. The timing is just strange with her."

Defensiveness surged within me. "Well, your family isn't exactly trustworthy either," I retorted, unable to hold back my frustration. "Your father removed key evidence, and Andy might have had a grudge against Stella."

Timothy's eyes narrowed, irritation replacing the shock. "Are you insinuating that my family had something to do with Stella's death? That my father or brother could have killed her?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising tension. "I'm just saying, Andy had motives. Stella wanted to marry you instead of him. It makes more sense that he did it."

Timothy's frustration turned to anger. "You're pointing fingers without any proof, Evie. You can't just assume things."

"And they can? Timothy, we can't ignore the possibilities," I argued, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Stella's death is tearing us apart, and we need to consider every angle, no matter how uncomfortable it may be."

He shot me a piercing look. "So, you think my brother killed Stella?"

I sighed, realizing the weight of my words. "I don't know, but we can't rule anything out. We need to find the truth, even if it leads us to places we don't want to go."

The air in Timothy's apartment crackled with tension as my words hung heavily between us. The accusation had slipped from my lips, and now there was no turning back. This was a territory we hadn't explored before.

Timothy's eyes bore into mine, searching for clarity, for an explanation that could somehow make sense of what I’d just said.

The room felt smaller, the walls closing in on us as his expression darkened. I met his gaze, unyielding. "I'm just saying, Andy had motives. Stella's choice hurt him. It makes more sense that he would do something drastic."

Timothy ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. "My brother’s stupid, but he’s not a murderer. This is my family we're talking about."

"He had no problem put the blame on you though," I insisted, my voice rising with my frustration. "He told me that he just needed someone to go down for-"

He shot me a stern look. "Leave my family out of this. Let the police handle it."

His dismissal stung, and I felt anger bubbling within me. "You just want to bury your head in the sand, don't you? Pretend like none of this affects you.

“Evie-”

Well, it does, Timothy! We can't ignore it, and you can't just rely on the police to sort it out. We need to take control of our own lives."

"Evie, just leave it. Let them handle it," Timothy pleaded, frustration etched on his face.

The anger inside me flared. "Handle it? Like they've been doing so well? I can't sit around and watch everything fall apart. I can’t just watch them take you away!"

"Evie, calm down, okay?" He reached toward me, but I snatched my arm away. “Breathe.”

I growled. "You don't want to be free from all this, do you? If you want to go to prison, just say so! But I’m not going to stand by and watch!"

I turned to storm out of the apartment, my anger propelling me forward. But Timothy was quick. He caught me by the arm and pulled me into an unexpected hug. I struggled against it at first, my anger still burning, but gradually, the warmth of his embrace began to seep in.

"Evie, just calm down. Let's not fight about this," he murmured, his voice gentle. “I want to fight this.”

"It's not fair, Timothy. None of this is fair," I whispered, the fight draining out of me.

He held me tighter and smoothed down my hair. Eventually, I pulled away, breaking the hug. "This is part of my mess, and I'm not going to stand on the sidelines. I'll help, whether you like it or not."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Timothy's lips. "You're so stubborn, you know that?"

I couldn't help but return the smile. "Well, get used to it. We're in this together."

He leaned forward, closing the distance between us in a gentle kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting him closer. He responded accordingly, grabbing my hips as he led us to his bedroom.

He laid me on top of the blanket and began to plant soft, sweet kisses along my body. I carded my hands through his hair, shivering as his hands trailed along my thighs and up to my hips. I’d never known this type of affection until Timothy, and the threat of it being taken away hurt worse than never knowing it existed.

I woke up the next morning to some harsh pounding at the front door. Untangling myself from Timothy's embrace, I couldn't shake the unease that clung to me like a heavy fog. I hesitated for a moment, glancing back at him still lost in the embrace of sleep.

As I padded towards the door, the knocking echoed through the apartment. The sound was insistent, demanding attention. A knot formed in my stomach, a premonition of something unsettling. With a heavy sigh, I opened the door.

The sight that greeted me sent shockwaves through my body. Two police officers stood on the other side, their stern expressions telling me that this visit was far from casual. My heart raced, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

"Good morning. Is Timothy Hayes present?"