Page 28 of A Sister's Secret

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, a staccato rhythm that matched the buzz of fear and anticipation coursing through her veins. Lisa slipped into the back office, ensuring privacy, before typing a cautious reply.

"When?" she responded.

For a moment, Lisa considered the risk. The last thing she wanted was to dredge up past horrors or place her family in danger's path again. It had been two weeks since the attack, but she was still marked by it and didn’t sleep well at night.

Lisa took a deep breath, her eyes darkening with resolve. It was a dance with shadows, but she was no stranger to the darkness. With a sense of purpose steadying her shaky hands, she composed another message, designating a location she knew well—the old mill by the river, secluded enough to ensure confidentiality yet familiar enough for her to control the setting.

"Tomorrow. Sunrise. Old Mill," she wrote, her thumb hesitating for a heartbeat before hitting send.

There was no turning back now. She locked her phone and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans, feeling its weight against her thigh like a talisman. Lisa emerged from the office with her usual warm smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She moved through the motions of clearing tables and serving customers, the matriarch of this community hub she had built with Oliver. No one could know the turmoil that churned beneath her calm exterior.

As closing time neared, Lisa shared a tender glance with Oliver, his dark hair flecked with sawdust, a testament to his day's labor. His strong hands, always so gentle with her and the kids, gave her silent strength. He nodded subtly, sensing her unease, his protective nature a silent vow between them. After the attack at Maggie’s house, he had told her they needed to take a step back. It was getting too dangerous. He didn’t want his family to have to live in fear. They were done. Let it go, he said. But Lisa still couldn’t. She refused to.

"Everything okay?" he mouthed across the room, his concern evident even amidst the clatter of dishes and the fading chatter.

Lisa nodded reassuringly, not wanting to burden him with her fears just yet. “Soon,” she thought, "when I have something concrete to share.”

That night, after tucking the children into bed and sharing a quiet dinner with Oliver, Lisa lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Her mind replayed the possible scenarios of the upcoming meeting and whether or not it would be dangerous. Yet, within her chest, a fire burned—a fire fueled by love and determination. For her family, for Oliver, for the justice Michelle deserved, she would face the unknown. Oliver would have to understand. She couldn’t tell him about it yet; he would only try and stop her from going.

As dawn approached, cloaking the town in a veil of misty gray, Lisa set out toward the old mill, her senses heightened. The thrill of the chase pulsed through her, mingled with the warmth of the rising sun that promised a new day. Today might bring answers or more questions, but either way, Lisa Thompson would be ready.

The chill of the abandoned mill seeped into Lisa's bones as she waited, her breath forming small clouds in the cold morning air. She paced, the crunch of gravel underfoot breaking the eerie silence. Each step was a testament to her resolve, and when a figure finally emerged from the tree line, her heart skipped a beat.

"Detective Ramirez. Are you sure no one followed you here?" Lisa asked, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Ramirez nodded. "I saw him… Sheriff Jim," he whispered, his voice laced with fear, "I’ve been following him for days since you told me he attacked you, and you saw him at the scene. He went back to the cabin where she was found. I took pictures, even though it means I could lose my job."

“That doesn’t really prove anything,” Lisa said. “We need something more solid. The Polaroid photos aren’t quite enough. The old news stories, either. We all know he is the one who killed her, and he attacked me. But how do we prove it? How do we prove that Sheriff Jim Coleman murdered Michelle?”

Lisa's blood ran cold when she heard herself say the sheriff's name. She could still feel those fingers as they grabbed her hair and pulled. She could feel his breath on her skin, and all she could think about was that those eyes were the last thing poor Michelle had seen.

“Let me finish,” Ramirez said. “There’s more.”

"Tell me everything," she urged, her eyes fixed intently on the figure before her.

“I found a witness.”

Lisa’s eyes grew wide. “A witness? To what?”

“A hunter. He was in the mountains when he heard the shot fired. He rushed toward the cabin to see what had happened and saw Sheriff Coleman leaving the cabin and rushing into his car. He then ran to look inside and saw Michelle. She was lying on the bed, a bullet wound to her head, the gun placed in her hand. He was the one who called the police and told them that someone was dead and where to find her.”

“Why wasn’t he mentioned in the report, then?” Lisa asked. “There was no witness statement. They only said it was called in anonymously.”

“When I spoke to him, he said he was never questioned. The sheriff arrived with his deputies, and as soon as he saw them, he realized that it was the same guy, so he took off. He never got to tell his story. He didn’t dare to. But I convinced him to tell me about it. I’m not sure he has the guts to tell it again, though. But it’s something.”

"And he is certain that it was him?" Lisa probed, seeking clarity amid the shocking revelation.

"Positive," Ramirez affirmed with a shudder. "He said he has never been more sure of anything in his life."

"Did the sheriff see him?" Lisa's mind raced with the implications of his testimony. “Could he be in danger?”

"No, I don't think so. He said he was careful.”

“Okay, and so must we be. Not a word to anyone.”

“Naturally. And remember, you didn’t hear any of it from me. I don’t want to lose my job.”

As Detective Ramirez faded back into the woods, Lisa stood alone once more, the echo of their parting steps a stark reminder of the perilous path ahead. The sun rose on the horizon, casting long shadows across the derelict structure, a silent witness to the warmth and the chill of the truths unearthed. She couldn't shake the feeling that every step toward justice drew her further into the crosshairs of a deadly game. Yet, for Oliver, Michelle, and the son who might never know the truth, Lisa Thompson would not be deterred. She would chase this sinister truth to the very end, her love a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume her.

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