When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

I was peering out the window when I saw it - a woman with long hair tumbling down to the ground, surrounded by a spreading pool of crimson. Looking back to where she'd fallen from, there was no one in sight.

Below, the gathering crowd let out shrieks of horror. Glancing down again, I caught someone pointing up at me, shouting, "The killer, the killer's still up there!"

Almost reflexively, I ducked away from the window, thinking to dash downstairs to see what was happening for myself, but I ended up face-to-face with the cops.

"Melanie, stop right there! You're under suspicion for the murder of Isla. You are being detained. Drop anything you're holding!"

Four officers had me surrounded in no time, and I was so stunned I couldn't even move.

One of the female officers stepped forward, took the coffee cup from my hand, and sealed it in an evidence bag before slapping handcuffs around my wrists.

It was surreal. Just a day later, and I was back in an interrogation room at the police station, this time with handcuffs on.

I tried to explain that I had only heard Isla's voice and hadn't actually seen her. They could check the surveillance footage, I said.

But the cops just sneered. "The hospital's surveillance system was down for upgrades today, during your husband's emergency. You must have heard that."

I racked my brain but couldn't recall any such thing.

"No, I didn't know about that. My husband was in surgery; why would I care about the hospital's surveillance?"

"Melanie, cut the act! We have concrete evidence against you. Even without the footage, we can prove you killed Isla! You are the murderer!"

It was the middle of the night, and the halls were deserted.

The fifth floor, where the patient rooms were located, was especially quiet, with no staff at the nurses' station to vouch for me.NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

Then the police produced a phone with a pink case.

"This is Isla's phone. The kidnapper, Jarvis, has been using this to contact you."

"I don't know any Jarvis, and I didn't have Isla's contact," I protested, panic setting in. Where was all this evidence coming from?

But as I remembered I hadn't done anything, a calm settled over me. I had to clear my name; I couldn't stay locked up here.

If Clyde didn't wake up, the Laird family would surely take action soon.

And by then, even if I could prove my innocence and Clyde woke up, it might be too late.

They handed me the phone, and I was shocked to see messages from Clyde's number to Isla's phone.

The messages outlined where to

take her after the kidnapping, even instructing Jarvis to bring her to the hospital today. There were threats too, warning him to comply or " would harm his daughter, complete with a photo of a little girl

Staring at the unfamiliar child, I was lost. What was going on?

“No, I don't know Jarvis or this girl. And Clyde...Clyde was sedated at the time, in surgery."

"And why would I have the kidnapper bring Isla to the hospital? It doesn't make any sense!"

I tried to reason with them, but the cops seemed unswayed.

"It makes perfect sense if you were using Clyde's phone while he was unconscious."

"And Jarvis' daughter was found in an apartment registered in your name. What do you have to say now?"

I was dumbfounded, speechless. Someone was framing me, but who?

All I'd been worried about was Clyde; I hadn't checked if his phone was with him.

Then it hit me. "Kayla was at the company stealing files today. I have surveillance footage as proof, and the compromised material is from her family's factory!"

"She could have accessed my home, stolen my jewelry to give to the kidnapper. It must be her! She drugged Clyde!"

My thoughts were scattered, but I tried to lay out everything I knew.

Anything could help prove my innocence.

"I never even met Isla. You can check fingerprints or DNA; they'll show I'm innocent."

"That only proves your suspicion," the officer countered, pulling out a report. Forensic rushed a DNA comparison. We found your hair and skin cells on Isla's body, and even traces of your perfume."

"Melanie, I'd advise you to give up hope of escaping this. It's better to confess early - you know the drill. Think it over carefully!"

Left alone in the interrogation room, I was completely bewildered. How could this happen?

After hours of repetitive questioning and my repeated denials, I was exhausted.

Finally slumping in my chair, I muttered weakly, “Officer, I had cancer surgery recently..."

As I began to lose consciousness, I thought I saw the door open and someone coming in to uncuff me. Through the crack in the door, it seemed like Vinson was there.

I wanted to smile at him, but I didn't have the strength. Slowly, I closed my eyes.