Chapter 2

Reina's POV

"Mum, I would love to have dinner with you today. Can you come home early?"

Those were the last words he said to me a few hours ago. I have been too busy to spend time with my little prince charming. I thought we had a lifetime together.

'I thought you would be with me till my teeth fall off?'

As though a spare had struck my heart, I could feel an excruciating pain piercing deeper into my heart every second. I could hardly breathe as the muscles of my chest tightened.

Who could have done this?

As my brain kept whirring around, there was intense rage pilling up from within and almost raving me mad. But then I thought-'Garrett.'

"Garrett was nowhere," I muttered underneath my breath as I swerved around.

I looked everywhere in the study and rushed to the bedroom, but I couldn't find him. He was nowhere to be found.

I looked in the closet and under the bed, but it was like he had disappeared.

"What if they killed him and hid him elsewhere?" The thought of it almost made my lungs plunge out through my openings. I was like an abandoned cat with nowhere to look for its owner. I instantly plopped on the bed as I kept thinking-

"What happened here?"

"Ma'am, the detectives are here." Mrs. Savannah interrupted.

***

"Mrs. McCoy, I'm really sorry about what happened, but we need to ask you a few questions." One of the detectives said to me, erupting me from my reverie.

Instantly, I met his gape-

"I'm the one seeking answers, detective. Who killed my son? And where has my husband disappeared to?" I asked him as tears rolled down my cheeks.

I was hanging on a tiny thread of hope, and I felt as though, at any moment, I could go insane.

"I know you are seeking answers. I am too. But before I can help, at least to find your husband and then the murderer, I need you to help me answer a few questions, and maybe we can meet some of your husband's close friends. I'm sure we can find him." He sat beside me and then placed his hand on my shoulder.

"What are the questions, detective?" My lips parted slightly, letting out silent, painful moans.

"Firstly, what is your husband's name?"

"Garrett McCoy," I responded, gritting my teeth as I tried to compose myself, but I was slowly breaking down and had no idea how much of this interrogation would be enough to make me crumble.

"Okay. How about what Garret has been up to? Do you know of any enemy of yours or that of your husband's?"

"We don't have any enemies, detective. I don't remember the last time I was involved in an argument with anyone." I couldn't hold back the tears as much as I tried.

"Find my husband." I pleaded.

"That's my duty." The detective responded, then he held my hands and placed his contact card on my palm.

"I will go back to the station and investigate."

I plopped on the bed, tightly gripping the sheets. Every memory of the past tore me apart. I had no idea why this was happening.

Suddenly, I could feel my weak eyelids closing, and my brain instantly relaxed. Immediately the darkness welcomed me, and when I opened my eyes, I almost got blinded by the glint of lights right above my head.

I was in the hospital. Shit, I must have passed out.

I covered my eyes with my elbow as I tried to help myself up, but then-

"Reina"

I heard a familiar voice call out to me. A frail voice whiffled painful moans that caused my eyes to tear up instantly.

'Mum.'

I slowly turned to the left, only to find my mother holding my hand with eyes filled with tears.

"Mum..." I broke out sorrowfully, leaning on her chest as she gently wrapped her hands around my shoulders.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled bitterly, and suddenly I felt her head buried in my shoulder.

***

"Mrs. McCoy." I heard the detective's voice call out to me. When I set my gaze on him, I noticed how terrified he looked.

"Detective." The tears falling from my eyes suddenly ceased as I noticed the file he firmly held onto.

"Have you found my husband?" I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, but I ignored it. I shoved off negative thoughts hoping that Garret had been found.

"Mrs. McCoy, I'm sorry, but I need to reconfirm some details with you. Something isn't right." He walked closer and placed the files beside my legs.

"What are you talking about, detective? What's not right?" I was quivering in fear. What could be wrong?

"You said your husband's name is Garret McCoy?" He asked me. His lips slightly parted, and his brows creased as his gaze was fixed on mine.

I could see it all-his confusion. I could sense the doubt through his eyes that narrowed deeper, staring at me like I was some delusional woman. 'I can't stand it.'

"Why did you ask me such a question?" My brows instantly creased, and my lips tightened in a fury. My eyes give destructive rays making my teeth grit in extreme anger.

'Why would he ask me to reconfirm my husband's name?' As much as I thought about it, I couldn't find an answer.

"There is a problem."

The sudden fire I felt in my heart melted. As noisy as the hospital was in the emergency unit, all I could hear was my frightened little heart.

'What happened to my husband?'

My lips were mumbling words that even my ears couldn't understand. My hand lifted, and my grip clenched the detective's sleeves.

"What happened to my husband?"

"Mrs. McCoy, Garrett McCoy is dead. He has been dead for the past six months."

My lower lips instantly pulled downwards as I laughed at the detective.

"What are you saying, detective? How can my husband be dead for six months when we only got married six months ago?" My laughter slowly became louder.

'Is this detective h*gh on dr*gs?'

"What are you saying, detective? I saw Garret yesterday." My confused mother didn't find the detective's joke funny; instead, she stood on her feet, looking as though she was ready to strike the detective with her hand.

"I didn't say your husband is dead, and I said the man, whose name is Garret McCoy, born and lived in Quebec City, died six months ago." The detective opened the file and showed me a picture of a strange man.

"This is Garret McCoy."

I was confused.

"Detective, you know that more than one person has similar names?"

"Yes, they do, but not only did your husband have the same name as the dead man, but he had the same birthday, same parents, and lived the same life as him. Which is suspicious."

"What are you trying to say, detective? What do you mean they lived the same life?" I screeched at him.

"What I'm saying is, Garret McCoy is dead. The real Garrett McCoy is dead." He looked sternly into my eyes. I didn't believe a word he was saying.

"Detective, are you trying to say my husband's name is not Garrett McCoy?" I yelped out in anger.

"Yes. He is a fake Garrett McCoy."

My world!