Split [ONC 2024]

6. Similar

I should not be here.

I should be in the ER or in an ambulance, or even in a normal car, but not here. Not on the floor of my living room, as if nothing happened, with Detective Trevor hovering over me.

There is worry in his blue eyes, but I'm terrified they will turn black again. That her face will shift and that unearthly hunger would morph his features again. Like it did mine.

With a scream, I sit up, my hands darting to my face. I'm not sure what I'm expecting to feel. Maybe a skin different from mine, or sharp teeth. I must look like a lunatic.

"Eva, calm down," Detective Trevor says, his voice low and smooth.

"What just happened?"

"You passed out."

No shit, I passed out. That's not what I'm asking and he should know that. Because even if all this crazy shit is happening around us, even if his face was taken over but what I can only assume is some sort of demon wearing his skin, he seems completely unperturbed.

"Why are you not more shocked about this? Why could you guess all those things out there on the trail?" A startling thought comes and I inch away from him until my back hits the mirror. "Who are you?"

He frowns and I take it he understands that I didn't forget his name, that my question has a much deeper meaning. He doesn't answer, staring at me with a thoughtful air. Every second of silence seems to steal a second of the life I have left.

"I'm working on a similar case," he finally answers.

"A similar case," I echo. How can there be anything similar to this madness?

"Yes. A man has been accused of the murder of his wife and two children, but he has no recollection of it."

"His... His children?" A chill enters my body and my stomach twists.

"He claims it wasn't him and he can attest everything he did at the time of the murders with absolute accuracy. Even if we can't verify everything, it's plausible."

My lawyer brain is working and I can immediately see where he's going with this. There is no clear evidence that he did it. There is no clear evidence that he didn't do it.

"How is that similar to this?" My voice shakes, but I know the answer before I finish asking the questions.

"Your husband claims that you threw the plate of food at his face," Detective Trevor says. "That the shards of the plate cut into his cheek."

"That's not true," I whisper. "I did no such thing. I love my husband." The words feel hollow and untrue.

Detective Trevor raises his eyebrows and I know he thinks I'm lying. I'm not. At least... I think I'm not. I'm once again taken by the blue of his eyes, so different from Steve's murky brown.

"Why would I do that?" I try again. "And how could I do it without getting my clothes dirty? Search the house. If you find anything with meatloaf sauce on it, I'll turn myself in."

The detective huffs. "Turn yourself in for what? Even if you did do it, he didn't press any charges. Our issue is with the blood on your windshield."

Ah, yes, that. A lot more important than Steve's face. I feel like an asshole for thinking that, but it's true. "Any news on that?"

"Except that it's human?"

I shudder. Who could have been deranged enough to bleed a human dry and spread it across my windshield?

"Who would do such a thing?" I whisper.

"That is a very good question. So is why. So is who was actually murdered."