Artifice Obscura: Hiding in Plain Sight

Will Sommors. His reputation preceded him. The mention of his name around anyone in law enforcement could perk up ears and start a murmur in any room. The name was that of a former homicide detective turned private investigator. He was best known for his work in solving a high-profile serial murder case that almost put an innocent man away for life. There was a major shakeup in the department following Summors’ public criticism of its tactics on that case and a few others. He was forced to retire early after drawing the ire of some of his peers. But a greater number verbalized their support for him and his actions. To this day, he still has many allies on the force, including India’s retired Uncle Fudd.

After some deliberation, they all met at Sierra’s apartment to discuss Kate’s murder investigation. Detective Davis Meals saw Sommors clearly, for the first time, as they exited their vehicles. Salt and pepper stubble dotted the dark brown skin of his jawline. He lit up a cigarette before closing the car door.

“Wow,” Meals said with enthusiasm. “If I knew you were the mystery man…”

Sommors raised an eyebrow.

“I know this sounds like a cliché, but you’re the main reason why I wanted to become a detective. When I was a kid, I read every article I could on the HuSK case.” HuSK stood for Hunter Stalker Killer, one of several nicknames given to the serial killer.

“ Was a kid?” Sommors looked Meals up and down with the cigarette stuck to one side of his mouth.

“I’m almost thirty.” Meals knew the look, and it never failed to put him on the defensive. “I just look young.”

“Young isn’t always about physical appearance,” Sommors said with a puff of smoke.

Sierra stared at the cloud as if she was waiting for his words to materialize within it. “You’re putting that out before you set foot-”

“Y’all go on up. I’ll be there in a minute or two.”

India shook her head at Sommors and his cigarette. “You’re setting a bad example for the detective. He’s trying to quit.”

Meals sighed.

“I’ll tell you right now, if you plan on a career as a police inspector,” Sommors said, “plan on also making a career of being a tobacco inspector.”

They left Sommors behind and climbed two flights to Sierra’s apartment. India sat on a couch across from Meals, who chose an oversized recliner. It was a terrible choice. He looked like an overdressed child with his feet barely touching the ground. They waited much longer than two minutes for Sommers to arrive.

The former detective finally arrived with a worn leather document case tucked under his arm. The smell of stale smoke was immediately noticeable when he entered. He sat down next to India, to her displeasure. “Which one are you,” he said with a perplexed study of India’s face.

“Excuse me?” India appeared offended.

The investigator chuckled. “Just joking. I still remember your uncle bringing both of you by the station sometimes. I have to admit that you were much easier to tell apart back then.”

India found the comment odd. Despite being the same color, Sierra had been wearing her hair much shorter than India’s for a while.

Sierra came out of the kitchen with a platter of sausages and cheese. She directed India to get the wine bottle and glasses off the counter. Meals swapped his wine for white grape juice.

“OK, let’s get down to business,” Meals began. “I’ll talk about what I can without spilling the beans on stuff that could hurt the case. Technically, you two are still persons of interest. My being here might even be a violation of some sort.” He glanced at Sommors, who gazed fixedly back at him.

“Kid, you’re running the show. It’s only a violation if you say so.” Sommors placed a slice of summer sausage on a cracker. “You also don’t have to worry about me stealing your thunder. Just ask any of the other guys who solicited my help… free of charge. They get all the credit while I work behind the scenes.”

“Taking credit is not what I’m worried about. I just don’t want to make any mistakes that cause a murderer to get off scot-free.”

“We’re on the same page then,” Sommors said with a full mouth.

“Do you have any idea who this woman is and why she killed Kate… and her cat?” Sierra asked.

“That’s why I needed to question your sister.” Meals directed his attention to India. “We’re pretty certain this woman is the same one who burglarized the house of one of Kate’s friends.”

“Raul?” India asked.

“Yeah. But we don’t have much beyond vague descriptions to tie her to the crime. We later found out she stole something from his house that belonged to you.”

“Some film,” India added.

“Could you tell me what was on it?”

“Just some random pictures of me,” India answered. Sierra did an excellent job of not reacting to India’s half-lie.

“Was there anything she could blackmail you with on there?” Meals asked.

“No. Nothing.” India felt like she answered too quickly as Sommers raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we figured that it was either somebody trying to blackmail you or a crazed fan.”

“Crazed fan probably sums it up best,” Sierra concluded.

Meals held up a finger. “I just remembered the other reason why I wanted you to come by the station. Our sketch artist also has a desk job at the station, so she’s there all the time. I was hoping you could come by and work with her to come up with something close to accurate while it’s still fresh on your mind. Since it’s a murder case, we can blast it out nationwide.”

“I can tell you now, I won’t forget that face for as long as I live,” India replied. “I’m an artist myself, so I can do a few rough sketches before coming by.”

“She’s really good,” Sierra said with a nod.

“Perfect.” Meals smiled at Sierra.

India envisioned the image of the cat lady’s face, shuddering as if an icy draft had just passed through the apartment. Noticing immediately, Sierra crossed the room to place herself between Sommers and India, putting an arm around her sister. India was comforted by the fact that Sierra could always tell what she needed even when no one else in the room could. Her prolonged focus on India sent a clear message to the two men.

The conversation shifted toward vague aspects of the case and the incident at India’s house without delving into too much detail. It eventually drifted into small talk and proclamations about the best way to make chili and various comfort foods.

India checked out about halfway through the discussion. Meals and Sommors stood up to signal their desire to bring the night to a close.

“Who’s taking me home?” Sommors asked no one in particular. “I don’t have a car here.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Meals enthusiastically offered. “Maybe we can talk shop on the way.”

“Not gonna happen.” Sommors shook his head. “I mean the ‘talking shop’ part. I’ll take you up on that ride, though.”

“I guess it’ll be a pretty boring trip.”

“Maybe we could talk about that game last night.”

“Sorry, didn’t catch it.” Meals said while rubbing the back of his neck. “Too much work to do. Also, not much into basketball unless it’s the playoffs.”

“I was talking about soccer,” Sommors offered a wry smile.

“I’ll see you later, Sergeant Snacks,” Sierra seductively said to Meals as she closed the door behind them. Sommors belted out a laugh that quickly devolved into violent coughing, which triggered a chuckle from Meals. Their voices faded into the background as they descended the stairs.

India felt herself drifting off. “I think I’m going to lie down. I feel wiped out.”

“Fighting for your life has a way of doing that to you,” Sierra jeered with a semi-serious tone. “Go lie down in my room. I’ll join you later.”

Sierra’s suggestion drew no objections. India had no intention of going back to her mansion that night. She called her agent Les to ask him to cover the broken window with something and lock up. His diction became more animated when India asked him to stay a couple of nights at her house. India was pretty certain his assistant would be joining him. Hopefully, they’ll refrain from using her bed for their extracurricular activities.

India laid in Sierra’s bed, bundling herself up under several blankets. She had to quickly put the pillows at the foot of the bed. They smelled like one of Sierra’s perfumes that she could not stand. India considered moving to the other bedroom but decided against it because her sister’s offer might have also been for her own personal need.

It didn’t take long for India to fade into the abyss. The previous discussion about the cat woman triggered a dream, but India couldn’t remember the details after waking up.

“What time is it?” India reflexively asked.

“A little after three,” Sierra responded. “Now go on back to sleep and dream up something nice for us.”

India didn’t want to go back to sleep. She felt like her lost dream about the killer would have eventually turned into a nightmare. She waited until Sierra’s breathing turned into an extended rhythm before slipping out of bed and creeping to the living room.

Sun Chips and wine was her snack of choice. She flipped through the channels until she found an old film classic. She had an affinity for movies from what some still called the golden age. Their dad loved them too but would sometimes complain about the actors talking in a manner that almost no one on earth did. Sierra sometimes felt like that about many modern films. People would look at her like she was crazy if she talked to them in real life the same way she spoke on camera.

India stayed up until the morning news came on. One of the top stories was about a ‘home invasion at the lavish mansion of India the Forbitten actress.’ For good measure, they mentioned that her real name is Leone Stylus. “It’s Stiles, you idiota!” India yelled at the screen. She immediately turned toward the hallway to see if she woke up Sierra.

It was clear that they knew almost nothing about the break-in, so most of the segment was filled with speculation and innuendo. ‘Did someone target India’s home because they knew her fearless assistant was no longer around?’ India changed the channel before they could go into detail about Kate’s apparent suicide. At least Detective Meals kept his word about withholding information from the media. Now that it’s officially a homicide case, he’ll have to release something soon.

Moments later, India got that strange feeling of not being alone in the room. She turned partially to the right before shrieking and nearly falling off the couch. Sierra was standing behind her, vigorously rubbing an eye.

“Girl, make a little more noise,” India said. “I’m still a bit jittery.”

Sierra yawned. “I heard you in here yelling, so I came to check on you to um… make sure somebody hadn’t broken in.”

India squeezed Sierra’s hand. “Thanks.”

“Hey, after you went to bed last night, I was thinking maybe we should go sailing today. It’s the weekend, and that’ll be a great way to avoid reporters and tabloid photographers.”

“You know what. That’s a great idea. I had already told Les to hang out at my place for a couple of days. I’ll call my skipper to see if he’s available.”

“Awesome.” Sierra strained to widen her eyes. “I’ll check the fridge to make sure I don’t need to make a store run.”

The women packed food, sunscreen, bikinis, and a couple of outfits. Sierra had a whole closet full of clothes that fit India perfectly. They just didn’t necessarily align with her tastes. It didn’t take long for them to get packed and dressed before driving to the marina.

The twins waited for about a half-hour before Hank, the skipper, arrived. He was a balding man in his fifties. Thick grey hair peeked out from under his baseball cap. Although he dressed younger than his age might suggest, he wore everything quite well. India didn’t recall ever seeing him without a tan but knew how pale he should be from the line below his shorts when they rode up.

He brought his teenage son Hank Jr. along to help with the rig. People just called him Jr., but India thought Hank Jr. had a nice ring to it. Sierra would typically help with the sails whenever Hank was alone, but India had specifically asked him to bring a helper since they planned on being lazy all day.

“Load up, girls,” Hank barked. “I’m shipping out with or without you in about fifteen.”

Sierra twisted her mouth. “Don’t you need to prep the boat first?”

“No, ma’am.” He knew Sierra hated when he called her ma’am. “I did all that early this morning. I was gonna test out a new sail.”

Sierra and India were loaded up and ready to leave within a few minutes, but Hank spent the next hour checking and adjusting the new sail. India’s anxiety grew as the activity level increased at the marina. She and Sierra stayed inside the cabin, ensuring they had safety equipment and plenty of surplus food. The idea of being stranded at sea was yet another source of anxiety for India, although she loved being out on the water.

Once they were sailing and land was barely visible behind them, India felt at peace. The cloudless sky reflected itself perfectly on the water creating a massive cocoon of blue from top to bottom. The sound of the waves lapping against the side of the boat soothed her.

Hank and his son rolled up the sails, and the women reclined on the rear deck. The benches on either side of a removable table doubled as comfortable recliners. India and Sierra took their places on the chairs while the men hung out at the bow. Sierra had changed into a fuchsia bikini while India kept on her white shorts and striped shirt. The canvas canopy above blocked the sun from most of her body.

“I needed this,” India said. “Thanks for the suggestion.”

“You know I got you, girl,” Sierra replied.

“While you’re looking after me, make sure you’re also looking after yourself.”

“To be honest, that’s what I got you for.”

“To be honest, the idea of you depending on me like that is scary.”

Sierra raised up on her elbows. “I’ve said this many times before. You were the sole provider for our family when you were still a kid. Sure, I have a job, but I have to depend on you when emergencies exceed my pay grade.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. I’m carrying all of you lazy bitches.”

“Now that’s what I want to hear more of.” Sierra laid back down on her cushion. “You know I’m growing my hair out like yours.”

“I figured you were. What’s up with that?”

“I like your look,” Sierra smiled broadly. “No, I looove your look.”

“Bullshit. What gives?”

Sierra sat up on the bench and patted the spot next to her. “Come sit with me.”

“Why can’t you come sit with me?”

“Don’t let that A-list shit go to your head.”

India hated when friends and family said things like that. She was B+ list at best. “Fine,” she said while moving as if the stiffness in her joints had turned into rheumatoid arthritis. Her toes scrunched while touching the sun-warmed water collecting on the deck. “OK, what’s up?” Sierra’s serious expression bothered her.

“I’ve been thinking that I should make myself look more like you while this psycho is still on the loose.”

“What? No way. No fucking way I’m letting you make yourself the target of a killer to protect me.”

“It’s not like you can stop me from changing my damn hair.”

“I’ll cut it off when you’re asleep.”

“I’ll kick your ass.”

India smiled. “That threat used to work when you were heavier than me.”

Sierra took both of India’s hands in hers. “Mini, I’ve given this a lot of thought. And I do mean a lot. Actors use decoys all the time to throw off reporters and the paparazzi. This would be no different.”

“Those are people paid to misdirect people taking pictures,” India protested. “We’re dealing with an actual fucking murderer. If you want me to use decoys, I’ll just hire a few.”

“We’re dealing with an actual fucking murderer. If you want me to use decoys, I’ll just hire a few.” Sierra repeated India’s statement with a near-perfect imitation of her agitation.

India immediately felt goosebumps. “I always said you should have been the actress.”

“Sheeyit. I’m good at acting like you because I spent my whole life with you.”

“I know how much you despise the celebrity lifestyle, so it means a lot to me that you’re willing to do this.” India looked away with a furrowed brow. “Wait a minute. Did Les put you up to this?”

“No. He’s one of the main people in your circle who I can’t stand. The truth is I put ‘me’ up to this.”

“For the record, I’m one hundred percent against it. If something were to happen to you, I’d lose my freaking mind.”

“What do you think I would do if something happened to you?”

“Probably set the whole earth on fire.”

“Damn right. Besides, you already have security people who put their lives, sort of, on the line to protect you. “

“You’re not part of my security team,” India leaned in slightly. “You’re my heart.” She could see some of the determination leave Sierra’s expression.

“Dammit!” Sierra exclaimed. “Nope. I’m not letting you talk me out of this. I already bought a wig until my hair grows out.”

“That settles it then. There’s no way to defeat the ‘I already bought a wig’ defense.”

“You know if somebody comes at me, they’ll be sorry.” Sierra flexed her biceps.

“Kate was a badass too.”

Sierra slowly dropped her arms along with her fierce expression.

Just then, Hank Jr. popped out from the far side of the cabin. He froze as if startled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“We’re just talking about dumb stuff,” Sierra said. “What’s going on?”

“My dad wanted me to check to see if you still want to stay out here till late evening?”

“Yeah,” India answered. “I had told him I wanted to get pictures of the sunset.”

“He said a couple of squalls might come through around that time.”

India glanced around the horizon until she saw the distant storm clouds. “It’s Hank’s call. Tell him we could head back whenever he thinks we should.”

“I’ll let him know.” Jr. disappeared behind the cabin as quickly as he had appeared.

After India got up, Sierra folded her canopy and stretched out flat on the bench.

“If you’re trying to pull off this decoy thing, you probably shouldn’t make yourself a shade darker than me.”

“You know it takes a while for us to go from brown to browner. I’m just trying to make a little vitamin D. If I fall asleep, put my shade back up. I don’t want to get tan lines. I fucking hate tan lines.”

India pulled a drawing pad out of her bag and a few charcoal pencils. Stretching out on her bench, she started drawing and shading multiple pictures of the cat woman. She remembered one of the officers insisting that the cat face might have been a mask. He cited that makeup effects artists were a dime a dozen in this town. India had worn and touched enough prosthetics to know what they felt like. When she had the burglar in a headlock, she touched warm skin, not a mask, not makeup. It also didn’t make sense that the woman would bother putting on such elaborate makeup to conceal her face then cover it with a scarf. The woman clearly didn’t want India to see her deformity.

That evening they all ate dinner together. It looked like the storm clouds would stay in the distance. The ones that encroached on the sun made for a dazzling orange and purple display. Not only did India take pictures, but she also broke out her colored pencils to capture the moment stylistically.

By the time India and Sierra made it home, both of them were tired. They lazily waved at the police car in the parking lot, although it was too dark to see anyone through the window tint. Another unmarked car was somewhere nearby.

“How can you do something that’s supposed to be relaxing but feel exhausted afterward,” Sierra pondered.

“The prep at the beginning is work, and packing stuff up at the end is work. The sun can make you feel drained too.”

“Yeah, but we spent most of the day lounging. By the way, I’m still mad at you for letting me get tan lines.”

“Your fault, not mine. Told you to stay under the shade.”

Sierra shot India the bird. India immediately went to the bathroom to wash off the sunscreen and sweat. Before getting in the shower, she checked her face for new wrinkles. Most of them were hardly noticeable. She had talented makeup artists, but there’s only so much they can do to enhance a damaged foundation. India steamed up the bathroom so thoroughly she barely saw a blur of herself in the mirror after getting out.

India walked out wearing Sierra’s favorite robe just to see how much it would bother her. She sashayed into the living room where Sierra was sitting at the edge of the large recliner. “And today, we have the illustrious India modeling this silk royal blue robe from the Sierra’s Favorite Clothes collection.”

Sierra didn’t change the troubled expression on her face. It actually became more troubled.

“What’s wrong?” India asked.

“Kate gave me that robe as a birthday gift.”

All of the air was sucked out of the room with that statement. The sisters stood there staring at one another. “I… I’ll go take it off,” India finally said.

“No, no, it’s fine. Leave it on. It looks great on you. Something else is bothering me.”

India quickly noticed that the pictures she’d drawn while on the boat were on the table. “You going through my stuff?”

Sierra held up both hands. “Some of the drawings were sticking out after you tossed your bag on the table. I saw the top of what I thought was a beautiful picture of Kate. When I pulled it all the way out, I was shocked. Appalled. Why does your drawing of the killer resemble our friend?”

“Because that’s exactly how she looked.”

Incredulity washed over Sierra’s face. “This is not OK. You must have gotten things mixed up under duress.”

“Nothing about that picture is a mistake. I know what I saw. I saw it up close, and it scared me shitless. I still see that face when I close my eyes.”

Sierra shook her head. “You can’t give this to the police. You just can’t.” She proceeded to tear up one of the drawings.

“What the fuck!?” India jumped over the couch to take away the other photos on the coffee table.

Sierra grabbed another and started tearing it. India grasped both of her wrists to stop her, but the action caused it to rip more. The look on Sierra’s face could only be described as shock. They were kids the last time they had a physical fight. “Let me go!” Sierra screamed.

The sisters flipped over the arm of the chair with India landing on her back, knocking the wind out of her. Sierra ended up on top. “I need you to calm down!” Sierra yelled.

For some reason, India was reminded of her fight with the cat lady. Expecting to receive a punch any second, India clenched a fist and delivered a punch to Sierra’s mouth. The pain made Sierra cover it with both hands, which allowed India to buck her off and assume a dominant position on top. She preceded to rain slaps upon her sister. They grappled, pulled hair, and screamed at each other for a couple minutes. Sierra eventually stopped struggling, visibly winded, with India pinning her to the ground by her wrists. Sierra forcefully blew hair out of her face and said in her most calm voice, “Get off me.”

“Are you gonna touch my drawings again?”

Sierra turned her gaze aside, deliberately avoiding direct eye contact with India. “Get off me,” she said calmly. “Get off me.”

“Will you stop going through my stuff?”

“Get off me.”

They repeated these requests about ten more times without any shift in momentum. The mood changed when Sierra asked a simple question. “Is this why you jumped on Kate? She went through your shit?”

India finally got off of Sierra, who slowly rose from the floor, tapping her bloody lip with the back of her hand. “You busted my damn lip.” Sierra rushed to the icemaker for a few cubes before storming off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

India gathered her torn pictures and stuffed them into her bag. Before going to the other bedroom, India removed the robe, placing it over the back of the recliner. She checked to make sure the front door was locked and strode briskly down the hallway in the nude. She refrained from slamming the door. Her sleep that night could only be described as restless.

The following morning, India woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. When she came into the living room, Sierra was already on the couch munching on a breakfast sandwich, watching some DIY show.

“I made you some,” Sierra said with her mouth full. “You might have to reheat it, though. I wasn’t sure when you were getting up.”

“Smells good,” India responded. “Thanks.” She made herself more toast. She didn’t mind everything else at room temperature, but cold or reheated toast was just wrong on so many levels. After preparing her food, she went to the living room to join Sierra. They both spoke at the same time. “I’m sorry for hitting/ripping-”

They sat there waiting for the other to talk. After a long wait, they spoke again in unison. “You first.” They both burst into laughter as food fell out of Sierra’s mouth.

“Oh, no,” India said. “I hit you in the mouth so hard you can barely keep food in it.”

“Fuck you,” Sierra said through more laughter.

“Seriously though, I’m sorry I hit you. I don’t want us to ever fight like that again.”

Sierra’s eyes widened. “Bitch, you the one who flew across the couch and yanked me out the chair!”

“I just wanted to stop you from ripping another drawing.”

“Yeah, that was stupid of me. As I think about it now. Incredibly stupid. Sorry.” Sierra put on an exaggeratedly sheepish expression.

India reached a finger toward Sierra’s mouth. “How bad is it?”

“Don’t touch it!” Sierra said while jerking away. “It’s just a small cut. The bleeding just made it look worse than it was. I wear my scars with honor anyway.” Sierra pointed to the long scar on her leg.

“At least you answered one question for me.”

“What was that?”

“Whether or not you could handle yourself if you get attacked again.”

India chuckled with a few fingers covering her mouth.

“She’ll wind up worse off attacking the actress instead of the decoy.”

“Shut up,” India couldn’t stop smiling.

“I’m serious. You made a cat-faced killer jump out of a fucking two-story window.” Sierra pointed to the television, “It’s all over the news, by the way. Wanna see?”

“Please don’t.” India felt the levity escape her all at once.

“Did I go too far?”

“No, I was just thinking about what really hurt me the most last night. It wasn’t you shredding my pictures. It was you not believing me.”

Sierra sighed. “At the time, it was a bit too unbelievable. It still is. Plus, I’m still grieving kind of hard over Kate.”

“When I saw the cat lady’s eyes with that round forehead and that red hair, I just froze. Then as everything started to go into motion again, I felt compelled to stop her from leaving.”

“Wait, I didn’t know this. You tried to capture a killer?” Sierra made air quotes. “Alleged.”

“At the time, she was just a thief to me. Knowing what we know now, there’s no ‘alleged’ about it. This woman killed Kate… and her cat. Now… she fucking looks like both of them.”

“Here we go with this shit.”

“You’re not listening to me. Again!”

“Listening.” Sierra sat straight up with her hands folded on her lap.

“I don’t care if you listen or not. I’m still saying what I need to say. I know Kate’s eyes when I see them. I was staring at them inches from my face. When she had that scarf around her mouth, all I saw was Kate, but… her height wasn’t right. She was as tall as me. I know that woman stole my film, and I’m sure she was searching for my camera.”

Sierra still sat fully erect on the couch glancing nervously around the room.

“We live in a city with multiple movie studios. Could it be-”

“No,” India affirmed. “A cop tried to convince me of the same thing. I touched her face several times during the fight. It was soft skin, not latex, not paint.”

“Well, regardless of who or what she was, I need them to catch her.”

“Where’s Detective Meals’ card? I have to text these pictures to him.”

“It’s in the fruit bowl.” Sierra gestured with a lift of her chin as she relaxed her posture. “Hey, are you trying to holla at Sergeant Snacks?”

“All yours if you want him. Question is, does he want you?”

“There’s no question about that. Did you not notice the way he was looking at you all night.”

“I try not to pay attention to stuff like that.”

“If he can’t have the real thing, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the carbon copy.” Sierra does an awkward dance. “Does that mean you and Brad are actually becoming a thing?”

“Puh-leeze. I think I’ve talked to him twice since he left for Europe. You know that whole relationship was concocted by Les, and I swear I will never ever do anything like that again.”

“If you only knew how many sham relationships and hookups I’ve avoided. Some guys weren’t even ashamed to admit that they asked me out because they fantasized about being with you. It’s kinda sick when you think about it. I’ll make an exception for Snacks, though.”

“You’re sick.” India took the card back to the bedroom, where she left the drawings.

“Put in a good word for me!” Sierra yelled.

Later that day, Sierra left to run a few errands. She didn’t tell India where she was going or what errands she was running. That was the last time India saw her sister before filling out a missing person’s report. A couple of officers were reprimanded by Detective Meals for not taking her report seriously. After about a week, everyone at the SAPD was concerned.

There had been growing speculation on social media and tabloid sites that Kate had taken some pictures to blackmail India. They believed the cat-faced woman was really India in disguise. She had lied about the burglary to throw everyone off. People floated pictures of India as a character in a remake of a movie about a mad scientist turning people into animal hybrids. What sickened India the most was the accusation that she was the one who had murdered her childhood friend and possibly her sister too. India was isolated and alone. The two people she loved and trusted the most were now gone, and a murderer was still on the loose.

Copyright 2022 Darrell Winfrey

Originally published at https://www.darrellwinfrey.com on March 30, 2022.