The ghost in her smile

"Can I talk to my sister on the phone myself?" Leila asked Investigator Evans, her voice barely a whisper, a fragile thread of hope in the suffocating silence.

Evans considered this for a moment, her expression unreadable. The weight of the situation pressed down on her too; she was dealing with a vulnerable teenager who had committed a serious crime, fueled by a complex web of trauma and desperation. "Okay," she finally conceded, her voice firm but not unkind. "But be quick."

Leila snatched the phone, her fingers trembling. She punched in Soraya's number, her heart hammering against her ribs. The ringing tone felt like a countdown, each ring a step closer to a potential confrontation. When Soraya answered, Leila burst into uncontrollable tears, the dam of her carefully constructed composure finally breaking.

"Soraya… it was your fault!" she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion. "It was all your fault! For being so blindly in love… you wouldn't even listen to me! You wouldn't believe me about David!" The words tumbled out in a torrent of grief and anger.

There was a stunned silence on the other end, then Soraya's voice, strained and incredulous, "Leila… what are you talking about?"

"He's a monster, Soraya! A monster!" Leila cried, her voice rising in pitch. "And you… you were too blind to see it! You wouldn't listen to me… you wouldn't believe me…"

Leila paused, catching her breath, the sobs racking her body. Then, through her tears, she asked, "So, why are you angry now?" The question hung in the air, a fragile bridge stretched across the chasm of their fractured relationship.

The silence on the other end was heavy with unspoken accusations and hurt. Then, Soraya's voice, tight with barely controlled fury, replied, "Because you tried to kill him, Leila! Because you took the law into your own hands!"

Leila didn't attempt to defend herself. The words caught in her throat, the weight of her actions, the depth of her sorrow, too overwhelming. She slammed the phone down, the abrupt disconnect echoing the shattering of their relationship.

Yet, in that moment of abrupt closure, something shifted within Leila. The raw emotion, the torrent of tears, had somehow cleansed her, leaving behind a strange, unexpected calm. The fear remained, certainly, but it was tempered by a newfound resolve. She had faced the worst of her fears, and somehow, she had survived. A strange courage bloomed in the desolate landscape of her heart, a resilience born from despair. She was ready. Ready for whatever consequences awaited her.

Meanwhile, Soraya, reeling from the shock of Leila's accusations and the abrupt end of the call, felt a surge of anger and confusion. The hurt, the betrayal, the overwhelming sense of injustice fueled a fierce determination. She would go to the station, she would confront Leila, she would demand answers. The phone call, instead of offering solace or understanding, had only deepened the rift between them. She was heading straight to the station, her heart a tempest of conflicting emotions.