CHAPTER FOUR – The Disappearance
The next morning, in her small apartment, Kamila couldn't stop replaying John's words from the other day.
"That guy must be crazy," she muttered, shaking her head.
She stood up and lightly slapped her cheeks. "What are you doing? You just lost your job, and here you are looking for explanations," she scolded herself.
Determined to focus on something more productive, Kamila headed to the shower. Ten minutes later, she emerged well-dressed in a dark blue shirt and matching suit. She had already seen a vacancy post on the MAC Cosmetics website for a salesgirl position and decided to try her luck.
Locking her door behind her, she walked out onto the street, waving at passing cabs. After about two minutes, she managed to hail one.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
"MAC Cosmetics," Kamila replied.
The ride took about twenty minutes. When the cab stopped in front of the building, she paid the fare and stepped out, taking a moment to admire the modern, sleek exterior. Inside, the place was even more impressive—expensive furniture, gleaming floors, and shelves stocked with specialized products that drew in hundreds of customers daily.
Approaching a salesgirl with a name tag that read Emily, Kamila asked, "Excuse me, where can I go for the salesgirl job interview?"
Emily smiled. "Oh, you're here for the job? My boss isn't in yet, but you can wait for him. Please, have a seat."
Kamila followed her to the seating area. She waited for nearly three hours, fighting off sleep, until Emily returned.
"Ma'am, he's back and ready to see you," Emily said.
Kamila followed Emily to the office. Emily entered first to announce her, then stepped aside—only for Kamila to freeze in shock. Sitting behind the desk was none other than John.
Her stomach tightened. She remembered how sharply she'd spoken to him the other day and wondered if he would hold it against her.
John, still typing on his computer, motioned for her to sit. "Give me your résumé," he said without looking up.
She handed it over.
"So your name is…" He glanced at the paper, then looked up, eyes widening. "Kamila?! What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the job," she replied softly.
John leaned back and laughed. "Why do you want to work here? I already told you—you own shares in Odell Industries. Why don't you just go there and take your rightful position?"
Her tone sharpened. "If you don't want to give me the job, just say it so I can leave."
Still chuckling, John asked, "If I hire you, will you still talk to me like that?"
"Of course not," she said, crossing her arms.
He extended his hand. "Then you're hired."
Kamila blinked in surprise before shaking his hand.
"You start tomorrow morning," he said.
"Yes, sir." She left the office while John watched her go.
Back in her apartment, Kamila sat on her bed, still stunned. I can't believe he's the boss. And why does he keep bringing up Odell Industries? What's wrong with him?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the ring of her phone. It was Sofia, the nanny Kamila paid to take care of her siblings while she worked abroad.
"Hello?" Kamila answered.
"Henry and Joseph weren't allowed in school today," Sofia explained, her voice worried. "They couldn't pay their fees."
Kamila's chest tightened. "Don't worry. I'll send some money soon. I just got a job—once I'm paid, I'll send more."
After hanging up, she checked her savings account and transferred her last funds to Sofia. I'll just have to go hungry for a few days, she thought.
A sudden knock at the door broke her train of thought. She hesitated. Who could be visiting this late?
When she opened the door, a bag was shoved over her head. A blow struck her, and everything went black. A group of men carried her to a black truck parked outside.
Unbeknownst to them, Josh—who was standing in front of the house drinking—witnessed everything. Hidden by the thick bushes, they didn't spot him. He immediately pulled out his phone and called 911.
"This is 911, what's your emergency?" the operator asked.
Josh quickly explained what he'd seen.
Minutes later, the police arrived, collecting evidence and turning Kamila's apartment into a crime scene.
Meanwhile, at the police station, Detective Grimes sat at his desk with his partner James. An officer approached, dropping a file in front of them.
"What's this?" Grimes asked.
"This is your next case," the officer replied.
"Since when do you hand us jobs?" James frowned.
"I was just asked to deliver it," the officer shrugged.
Grimes opened the file. "What's it about?"
"Possible forced entry and kidnapping," the officer said. "We're not sure if it's a homicide yet—that's where you two come in."
Grimes studied the photos, his brow furrowing. "I know this girl."
"From where?" James asked.
"I saw her in a driveway the other day," Grimes recalled. "She looked… troubled."
James grabbed his coat. "If she seemed worried then, she's in even more trouble now."
"I tried to help her," Grimes muttered as they hurried out, "but she wouldn't listen. I just hope she's still alive."
They climbed into Grimes's car and sped toward Kamila's apartment.