Lost in the Maze: Elias de Marcel

Kabanata 15

KABANATA 15

Elias' POV

We are currently inside a small room used for interrogation, surrounded by white walls that seem to suffocate my breathing. The stern-faced police officers continue to ask questions, while my lawyer, sitting beside me, is closely monitoring every word coming out of their mouths. I still can't fully grasp how and why I am being implicated in what happened to Jocelle, an incident as hazy as smoke in my mind.

Despite my denial and explanations, it seems as though there is an unseen hand continuously pushing my name forward in the case. Who is truly responsible for this crime? And why does it seem like the evidence is being stitched together to incriminate me? These questions keep swirling in my mind as time seems to stand still in the four corners of that interrogation room.

I sigh, trying to control the anxiety I am feeling. "I will say it again and again, no matter how many times, I have no involvement in what happened to Jocelle," I firmly repeat, each word filled with insistence. "It's just impossible. Think about it, I was busy in an important meeting with the department managers of our company. Three hours straight, non-stop, no breaks—discussions, presentations, planning—so how could I have ordered anyone to go and harm Jocelle?"

As I explain, I feel the beating of my heart, fast and loud, a sign of my nervousness. But I have to remain calm; I have to show that I am innocent.

The face of the interrogator remains emotionless, seemingly unaffected by my explanations. "But, according to Ms. Sadejas' statement, the incident occurred shortly after she met with you. Wasn't there a confrontation between the two of you inside your office? You dragged her to the security guard of your company and even threatened her. You said, 'If you don't stop approaching me, something bad will happen to you.' Isn't that a threat that could potentially prompt someone to take action against her?"

I gulp, feeling the weight of each word like a burden on my shoulders. "Yes, I admitted we disagreed, but that is not a reason for me to order violence. The words I spoke were out of intense emotions at that moment, but I had no intention to harm her, especially since I couldn't do that amidst my work. I wouldn't risk my position and reputation for a moment of anger."

I take a deep breath, trying to stay strong in the face of accusations. "If only you could check the CCTV footage of our office, you would see that I never left the conference room for a moment. Also, the calls and messages on my phone will prove that my attention was solely focused on the meeting."

In my mind, I hope that these pieces of evidence are enough to clear my name from any doubt.

But the man, who still seems unconvinced, shows a deeper doubt. In a moment of silence, he slowly presses a series of keys on his laptop placed on the table between us.

Then, he slowly turns the laptop to face me. With a click, a video starts playing from the CCTV installed in the hallway of a luxurious condominium.

"Mr. de Marcel," he asks again, his tone full of undisguised doubt, "are you sure you don't know the man in this CCTV footage?"

I turn to the screen, paying attention to the man with heavy steps, head down, wearing a black cap that partially covers his eyes, and his face covered with a mask concealing his identity. Quiet and with a strange certainty in every move, he walks down the hallway and stops in front of a door. In a few seconds, he enters without any hesitation.

"The unit he entered," the officer adds while pointing at the screen, "was Ms. Sadejas' condo unit."

As I watch the following events, my mind is filled with wonder and questions. Minutes go by, and I see Jocelle, carrying grocery bags and looking tired from a long day. Unbeknownst to her, she happily walks towards her unit, unaware of the mysterious man entering.