Chapter 4 WHAT REALLY HAPPENED THAT DAY

MILAN'S POV

I tousled my hair, leaning back on the sofa. Lofy melody of a soul artist playing on the turntable. Martini in hand and staring at the blank television. Completely stolen my my reverie.

Midnight autumn winds beat again the glass and whooshed into the room from the open windows. I sighed heavily, shutting my eyes for a moment. The room seemed to emit a rosy scent all of a sudden. I knew my mind was playing with me because only one person had that scent on her hair each time. Only my Sierra smelt like roses.

I drew in a breath and exhaled slowly.

I miss her. I really miss her. It's only been entire 48 hours since we last spoke but right it, it really felt like eternity.

The gnawing feeling in my chest begged me to go back to the house. To try to get through to her again but, Sierra and I had dated for a year now. I knew better than anyone that she didn't listen to reason when she was like that. Broken, touchy, tense, aggravated and paranoid.

The cocktail glass raised to my lips, I let the alcohol slowly burn my throat before I placed the glass back on the small table by my left and then tore myself away from the sofa, strolling to the translucent glass that overlooked the Orchid garden below.

The hue of the flowers, blur before my eyes did not leave that nirvanic delight it always did. I felt empty.

'i am lost without you, Sierra. If only you knew'

The sound of the ringing telephone blared into the quiet atmosphere of the villa. Reluctantly, I went into the inner room to pick up the call.

"Mr. GrandStone."

"George. It's late."

"My apologies Sir but... you need to hear this."

"Is it about work?" exhaustion laced my voice.

"No. It's about..." he hesitated.

"About what?"

"The girl in the bungalow on Haven Street."

My heart th"What about her?" I straightened up, gripping on the table unconsciously.

"She is on the news. Right now."

The telephone dropped, the thub in symphony with my pacing footsteps. I swiped the remote off the couch and turned on the Tele.

*Early this morning, a twenty year old Sierra Shade jumped to her death from the Kimberly Memorial High School building. Eye witnesses say she was intentional about it. Reports coming in further clarify this and also reveal that she has been scarce and somewhat depressed for the past few days leading to her death. Police are still looking into it and are yet to confirm it is a suicide until..."

The TV went off. The remote shaking in my trembling hands.

The TV went off. The remote shaking in my trembling hands.

I stared back at the darkness, horrified. A tear slipping down. I shut my eyes for a second. Trying to process what I just saw.

'It can't be right. She can't be... Sierra can't be dead.'

I turned, attempting to find my way to the telephone, my legs wobbled and gave way, I crumbled. The sofa caught me. I held back my tears, hand on my lips. Rage building up inside me, the pain exacerbating.

The cocktail glass was the first to suffer. Smashing into pieces on the wall. I rammed a leg at the Orion coffee table, it tumbled over and crashed on the floor.

I didn't want to believe it. I ruffled my hair and forced back my tears but nothing helped. I had her gruesome picture in my head. Her bruised eyes were open; it felt like they were staring at me, like she did that night at the hotel.

Her lips gaped. She must have called out for me and I wasn't there.

'Oh God-'

Sweat drenched the white tan top I had worn. Air-conditioning on full blast and yet I was burning inside. It was ripping apart.

The tears forced their way again and this time, I let them. I slumped on the sofa, crying, grabbing at my chest.

It ached. My heart ached so bad, it could break apart. I killed her. I kept the truth from her now it killed her. I should have said something, anything at all.

The loyal Veneto Italian leather sofa held me again, sat there, disquiet. A hand over my lips, the tears racing down and along my fingers.

My breath shakily. Memories of us, everything we shared, like cinema pictures before my eyes.

It was roughly an hour past two but It felt like morning would never come. Like I had been cursed to live in this night forever.

Somehow sleep managed to steal me into a disturbed slumber. I woke up on the floor that morning.

Nelly, the cook had prepared breakfast of toasted bread, white tea and a richly-made salad. I forgot breakfast and canceled everything in my schedule.

The driver was given a day off. Now alone in the Blue Porch, I drove to the morgue.

Her body had stayed overnight. By the time I arrived, she had gotten real cold. Her mother had been hospitalized, she collapsed after she heard the news. I was the first to visit her since her death, the doctor told me.

Then he left me in the pristine white-tiled room that reeked of detergent and left an eerie feeling of death.

I stood beside her body, staring at her closed eyes. She looked like she was sleeping. I wished so bad that I could wake her.

A tear drizzled- onto my suit.

"I'm sorry-"

My voice broke. I took short breaths.

"I should have been there. I should have told you what happened that night. This is all my fault. This is all my fault."

My lips parted again but no more words came. Pain overwhelmed me. My eyes, half closed and my face pale. I just stayed quiet, staring at her.

Perhaps waiting for something to happen. Anything at all.

I got my wish.

The metal door clanged as they pushed open. Someone peeped into the room.

"Mr. GrandStone."

That someone was George.

"Go away, George."

"Sir, it's really urgent. You have to see...".

I threw a bloodshot eye at him. He jolted back, struggling to regain his composure.

"Can you not see that I need some privacy!!!"

"Sir, it's about the girl. Someone saw her. He said she didn't jump."

My frows furrowed. I stared at him.

"What did you just say?"

********

"His name is Arthur King. He was filming birds in the adjacent building when the lady fell off."

He briefed me as we walked down the Hostel's passageway leading to his dorm room.

"He is asking for a lot of money in exchange for it. I told him you would pay anything if the video was worth it."

He stopped, I did too. We were in front of a shabby door with the inscription 333 on the far top. He wiggled the knob at the door three times. The boy inside unlocked it.

I stepped into a total contrast of what I had in mind. Princess wallpapers, cartoon action figures, superhero magazines. Comics littered on the bed. But what really caught my attention was the uncanny similarity in his taste of entertainment and that of Sierra. Better put, he wasn't watching birds in that classroom. He was stalking Sierra.

'Idiot'

"Here it is." The kid said, turning his screen so I could see. George zoomed in.

Unconsciously, I held my breath and grit my teeth. Head raised slightly. Before my eyes, Sierra was about to die, again.

I could see figures moving on the roof, then Sierra wobbled forward and off the building. My fists clenched. George froze at that time frame.

"Step aside."

My breath, aquiver. I peered at the enlarged footage. There was a pixelated figure just one foot away from here. Someone was there alright.

Sierra didn't commit suicide. She was murdered.

"Should we tell the police?"

"No. I am far better..."

The tailored Brioni black suit's breast pocket vibrated, cutting me short, abruptly. My phone was ringing. I looked at the caller's Id. A frown settled on my lips.

"I will be right back. Write him a check of 10,000 dollars."

The boy's eyes grew wide. His low pitched gloating was the last I heard as I slipped into the passageway, heading up a little. I picked the call when I had found a decent corner.

"This better be good, Glasglow."

"Your habit of communicating with me like an employee of yours, is not something I like, You know that?"

I let out a scrowl of disgust.

"Goodbye, Glasgow." I put the phone down.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Your fancy smancy reputation could get real hurt. Like your girl."

The device returned to my ears.

"If I find out you had a hand in her death, I swear to God, I will..."

"Jezz man. Relax. I think you should be worrying about yourself."

He chuckled. His laugh bathed with the distasteful feeling of clandestine.

"You can't touch me."

"Indeed I can't but the world most certainly will when they learn that the Immaculate CEO of GrandStone Empire fucked a minor."