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Identical twins, Miranda and Nastasia Moralez, couldn’t be more different. Being the head of the cheerleading team, Natasia is the most popular girl in the school. Miranda is not, taking photographs in her spare time for the school paper. Life is normal until a tragic accident takes the life of one twin. Miranda quickly realizes that the car crash that took her sister’s life was no accident. It was planned. Now, Miranda has to find out who wanted her sister dead before she succumbs to the same fate.
“Thanks, Libby. I will look into it.” “Remember not to mention my name,” she said before hanging up. “I won’t. This will stay between you and me right now,” I assured her and hung up my phone. “Who was that?” I turned abruptly in my seat, glancing at the doorway into the waiting room. I caught a glimpse of my father standing in the threshold. “Oh, no one,” I said, standing up and turning around to face him. Immediately, my eyes drifted to a figure that was standing just beyond the doorway.
window faced mine,” he told me, the color draining from his face as he focused on the road. “I suppose you could say we dated when I was in the sixth grade and she was in the eighth. But it was just puppy love, and it was over in a week or two. The year my dad left was the year they found her dead. I was devastated. I hadn’t talked to her in a while. I wasn’t there for her. When my family troubles started, we just drifted apart. Suddenly, I didn’t care about friendships, dating, and popularity.”
could all be a lie… a way to manipulate me into believing that he was in love with me. But why? “Ms. Moralez?” “Yes?” I said, turning my attention back to Officer Jonstan. My attention shifted from his face to the object he was holding in his hands. He held a plastic bag with a photograph inside. “We found this underneath the dried flower and bagged it for evidence,” he stated. “This photo wasn’t left out in the elements. We can try to get some prints. Do you recognize it?” Taking the
In relation to their proximity to one another, this person seemed to be her companion that night. Could this person have been her killer? This image confirmed in my head that it couldn’t have been Caleb. He was playing that night. He couldn’t have been standing on the sidelines with Samantha. She was there with someone else that night. I needed to sharpen the pixilation of the photograph, but I didn’t have a program that could do that; however, I knew someone who did. Entering my web browser,
something inappropriate, I thought I should explain Caleb’s presence. “I ran into Caleb at the school, and he helped me bring this stuff home.” A smile formed on my father’s lips. “Hey, Caleb,” he greeted as if seeing an old friend. “How is your mom?” “She’s good,” Caleb responded with slow a nod. “Thanks for all your help, Mr. Moralez. My family is grateful.” “No problem. Let me know if there is anything else I can do,” my father said, reaching for the box that Caleb held. “Let me take that