The echo of her own footsteps followed Annah down the cracked pavement outside the police station. The sun had risen higher now, blinding and cruel in its brightness. It made everything look too clear, too real. She hated it.
Inside her mind, the interrogation room still clung to her like a second skin. Stella's voice hadn't left—calm, sharp, undressing her with every word.
"You became the scream, didn't you?"
Annah closed her eyes.
She didn't scream. Not even when they told her Lucy was missing. Not when the hospital gave her excuses. Not when the calls stopped. Not when they found the bloodstained scrubs behind the dumpsters, soaked and shredded.
She'd buried every scream in her chest, one by one, until silence was the only thing she knew how to wear.
But now… something was shifting.
She walked aimlessly, past vehicles honking at congested roundabouts, past fruit vendors calling out cheap prices, past mothers yelling at stubborn children. The world moved on. Always moved on.
Even when Lucy didn't.
By the time Annah reached her apartment door, her legs felt like they didn't belong to her. She fumbled with the keys. Her hands were trembling.
Inside, the silence returned, thick and familiar. The walls still smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender—the last scent Lucy wore.
The place always smelt of lavenders.
That's the worst part.
Annah sank to the floor of the living room, knees pulled to her chest. The sun bled in through the curtains in long, cruel fingers.
She couldn't breathe.
You're not a monster, Annah. But you made a choice.
She remembered the tea. The way his hand shook as he lifted the flask. The way he tried to talk through the fog, tried to tell her something—maybe an apology, maybe a prayer—but she never let him finish.
She'd watched the life leave him like breath on a mirror. Slowly. Quietly.
He hadn't fought much. Maybe he knew.
And then the silence returned.
She rose slowly and stumbled to the mirror in the hallway. Her reflection startled her. Hollow eyes. A smear of dried sweat on her temple. She looked like a stranger. Someone she might walk past without noticing.
A knock at the door startled her.
Who was it this time?
Her heartbeat roared in her ears. Her breath caught. She waited, frozen.
Another knock.
She reached for the door slowly and opened it just a crack.
Lina stood there, holding a paper bag.
"Hey," she said gently. "You weren't picking up."
Annah opened the door fully, wordless.
"I brought you something. Cake from that café you like," Lina added. She studied Annah's face. "You okay?"
Annah lied. "Just tired."
Lina walked in without asking, placing the bag on the counter. She glanced around the room like she expected ghosts to be hiding in the corners.
"I heard about the questioning," she said softly.
Annah stiffened.
"They're just doing their job," Lina added quickly. "It doesn't mean anything."
"It means they think I did it."
Lina turned to her. "Did you?"
The question hung there.
Annah looked at her, really looked. Lina, with her warm eyes and nervous fidgeting, who always knew when to say nothing.
She didn't deserve lies.
"I don't know what I did," Annah whispered.
Lina reached out, but Annah pulled back.
"I've been seeing her," she confessed. "Lucy. In the halls. In my sleep. In reflections. She never says anything. Just watches.She will never forgive me for leaving her alone."
Lina blinked, but didn't laugh.
"You need to talk to Dr. Kariuki again," she said. "Please."
"I did," Annah said. "And I lied to him, too.But he went ahead and talked to the detective about me."
Silence.
Lina picked up the bag, pulled out the cake, and placed it in Annah's hands. "Eat. Just try."
Annah looked at it like it was a foreign object. But she took a bite. Mechanical. Like chewing paper.
Lina stayed for an hour, talking about nothing—nurses gossiping, the hospital cutting overtime, a new doctor with crooked teeth. But the whole time, Annah kept hearing it.
The scream.
Not Lucy's.
Hers.
After Lina left, Annah sat at the window and watched the shadows stretch. The city outside didn't care what she had done. The wind blew the same. Strangers laughed in the distance.
But inside her, something was fraying.
And for the first time since Lucy disappeared, she wondered if maybe—just maybe—she wasn't in control anymore.
Maybe she never had been.
They all said she was never sane.Not sure what that was supposed to mean.
That night appeared in her thoughts again.
"I had gloves on,I knew the route.Camera's were off.Even with a witness my actions were never out of the ordinary.Everything was planned out and executed well."
They won't catch me.
At least not yet.
Not until I was done.
Then Annah felt the screams fade.
Only Lucy was left looking at her.
In silence