I peeled my eyes to a glossy hospital room, my head throbbing from last night. "Hey, how are you?" I shifted my gaze from the gleaming, white ceiling to the voice that erupted out of worry. "How did I get here?" I asked. The heart rate monitor beeping a regular rhythm as I wrestled myself upright against my burning sides. "It's a long story. Meyers is paying for your bill right now, we need to discharge you. Why don't we talk back at your home? You can tell us what happened back there," said Aisha, her eyebrows woven together in a frown.

"I'm sorry, I... I don't remember."

"That's alright, it's probably from all the anesthesia. Let's just go home first, okay?"

I nodded.

I was driven back home in a bullet ride by Aisha's minivan. There was a plethora of toys and a bundle of binkies scattered around in the backseat. "Sorry for the mess," she apologized, "I didn't get time to clean it yesterday because of, you know..." she suggested. "I understand," giving her a soft smile, I rested my head on the window, trying to recall memories from earlier.

Mrs. Brye was waiting on the front porch, arms folded with an empty mug in one hand. "What is she doing here? I thought she was at the retirement home," I asked, unhooking my seatbelt and rushing outside to give Merida a bright smile and a warm hug. "She missed you," grunted Aisha, slamming her car door shut.

A cup of coffee and a plateful of pancakes waited for me in the kitchen, the dining table decorated with fresh flowers and a new set of dinner plates. "Is this all yours?" I turned around to face Merida but Mitchelle engulfed me in a solemn embrace before she could reply. I smiled at the wholesome welcome and thanked everyone for being here with me. We all sat down and I began to shove spoonful of food in my mouth as the butter melted and triggered a moan to escape from my mouth. "This is so good," I giggled after a very long time.

We chatted for a while as my nerves calmed down, but then my curiosity decided to shift back to the topic at hand. "What happened last night, though? How did I end up in a hospital?" I spoke up, but it hurt physically to prepare myself to digest any story that would be thrown my way. There was a moment of silence and slight hesitation before Aisha instigated the explanation from her view.

It was getting pretty late and I was growing tense every minute that passed without a sign from Geisha. My gut was twisting and turning as I felt the need to ask the Captain to check up on her, and surprisingly enough, he let us. It was Mitchelle and I that drove to Charles' place, August Meyers stayed back to hold a press conference on both Charles and James across the international broadcasting station.

We rifled through the house with a search team trailing right alongside us and after minutes of probing, we found a metallic safe behind the painting of Charles the Seventh where a rotten carcass of Jack Antoine lay dismembered and stenchful in a dried pool of blood. Right next to which fresh drops of scarlet  settled.

Mitchelle hurriedly dropped her phone in her pocket after failed attempts of calling Geisha. She then grabbed the blood sample and hopped onto her bike and zoomed off to the precinct lab. I on the other hand, tried searching for more clues as to where Geisha might be. And I failed, miserably.

I soon got a call from the Captain, informing me that James has been caught posing as a school Janitor and that he's waiting in custody for interrogation. Back at the station, I first took in the horrible sight through a CCTV footage of a French school sent to us by a local police station with all his 'details' attached in a mail.

It was a very feeble plan, but looking at James now was devastating. Even through the screen, I could feel the misery he had to face. He was a total wreck. His hair was all over the place, there were dark circles lining his undereye and he looked so fragile and ghostly from his usual, sunshiny self. I knew, however, that there was no room for sympathy.

Four hours had gone by as we waited for the French government to send us our suspect, we had to wait for seven more. Mitchelle and Doctor Gray on the other hand had brought the results. Since we already had her listed as a potential owner of the blood, it was easier to confirm it with the blood deposit she had already given to the hospital around the time when Phoebe had Leukemia.

There was nothing left for us to do.

We waited.

And Waited.

Even the sound of car engines made my blood boil. To my bewilderment, even Meyers looked tense, which I was sure because of personal motives but he seemed pretty genuine. I had to head home for a while to check up on my kids, the house was a mess and I despised an environment of clutters. Since the kids were asleep, I decided to clean the house in the meanwhile.

Hoping I'd be distracted from the uprising stress and nausea.

What if something had happened to her? Something bad? Tears were threatening to spill but I swallowed my susceptibility and worked harder to complete my chores.

Life was different after having a family. I pondered over quitting my job several times and yet I always came back to the detective life. Maybe one day I'll join Geisha in her simple life escapade after this case. If she's still able to do so, that is...

"Yes?" I responded to a sudden call from Mitchelle, "There's news about James," she sighed heavily, "What is it?" I whispered.

"He says he has a way to help us find Geisha and Charles. Only if we let him go," she said, "I don't think the Captain will agree to it. He has another plan to sabotage James."

Silence.

"Okay, I'm coming," I cut the call and rung another to the nanny, asking her to watch over the kids. "At this hour?" She groaned, her voice groggy and harsh. It was the best way. The only way, to protect and limit the loneliness my children would feel. Sadly, they were losing bonding time with their parents and having more with the nanny. It made my heart wrench. Maybe I was jealous with no rights. I chose this job, now I must face the consequences.

Speeding to the station, I was met with a huffing and puffing old geezer, drama queen of a Captain yapping away dramatically with a wretched James in handcuffs. "What's he saying?" I snapped my head back and forth between  August Meyers and James.

"Said he'd help us track down Reeves and Antoine if we agreed to let him go free, without any charges- which I may repeat, are way too many to count," he spat his statement at he end with an icy look towards James. "Now now, August." Warned the Captain, his eyes frantic. Did he just call him August? First name basis? I scoffed.

I wanted to punch all three.

What a bunch of wussies.

"Okay, we can't promise you anything for certain, but there's a life at stake. And hundreds more if we are not able to save it, James, or whoever you are." I growled, steering my attention to the second- hand culprit.

"Then you promise to reduce the charges," he glared back. This wasn't James. This can't be. Recovering from the overwhelming emotions I felt in next five seconds, I cursed and slapped him right across the face. "Do you have any idea what's going on? Don't you even feel an atom of remorse? What is wrong with you, you piece of shit-"

"Aisha, leave it. He's not worth anything," said Mitchelle, holding me back, "He isn't the James we knew. Heck he isn't even James!" She laughed bitterly. "What are we going to do?" I cried aloud.

"Fine. I'll help."

Any other urges I had to butcher this pitiful imposter's ass, was hard to control. Enduring him throughout the coming process was going to be a torture. One I was willing to take. We had him bring his software from an illegal source on the internet to track the location of my friend and the killer. "Where is it pinned at?" Asked Mitchelle, leaning down vehemently at James.

"A closed factory near the Olivander Institute of Mental Care," he gritted, "The shortest route is through the underground bypass tunnel. We have about forty-nine minutes if we leave now."

"Let's go," said Mitchelle, "I'm coming too," declared James. 

"No-"

"She was my friend too, and I owe her one-"

"You don't owe her anything but an apology, asshole. And why would you care anyway?"

"Because I-"

"Save it," she held a palm in the air and then motioned for him to follow. "Aisha, you're staying,"  Meyers blocked my path, "What? Why?" I pushed him aside, but he grabbed my arm and held me back. "You are a mother, if this mission turns out to be dangerous..." he trailed off but didn't continue.

"Are you coming?" Yelled Mitchelle, ready in full action-mode. "Yeah!" he hollered back, thrusting his gun in his pocket and running out of the station with a squad ensuing them quickly outside. Lights flashed as a familiar siren shot off throughout the town, the oncoming traffic parting like ants.

Well, that was... sort of, considerate?

Is he on pills?

"Soon enough, I took over the operation," said Mitchelle, sipping a glass of water as she bit into her food. Merida excused herself to the washroom as I shifted in my seat, the hammering in my head now slowing down. Before she could continue her story, I interrupted, "How did he track me though?"

"The necklace."