[Story] AFRAID TO LOVE Episode 87

[Story] AFRAID TO LOVE Episode 87
“This is interesting,” Jeremy said, flipping through a notepad in his hand. It was Purity’s notepad. It contained many scribbling written by Purity herself. What she wrote had to do mostly with her personal life. Her inner person, her very true self. It was a life not many people knew of. She wrote things about her day. Her whereabouts, her success and problems she encountered. The words were poetic and touching. She was very emotional. Jeremy named it ‘Her Life’s Book.’ He had known much about her and he was glad he had found it among her things.
While he and Darren and gone through her things at the office, he took what he could find with him. Her purse, books, notepads, and her cell which was already dead. He got this strange feeling that it’d lead to somewhere, something he had to unravel.
“What?” Darren and Allan asked in unison, out of sheer curiosity.
“Its private,” Jeremy quickly withdrew the notepad from the prying eyes of his friends.
They resigned and retreated to their former potions, sitting on the sofa.
“I have the record of Ernest Turner, indirectly confessing what he did to Purity. Its crystal clear he has her with him,” Allan informed Darren. “He didn’t hide it.”
“Even if he tried to, its out in the open,” Darren remarked.
“There was something I saw in his eyes. A gleam of uncertainty and remorse. I just can’t understand it. His words were in direct contrast with his gaze. He was battling to hide it, I still saw it.”
“You’re not a psychologist, Allan,” Darren reminded him.
Jeremy paid no attention to them. He continued to peer into ‘Her Life’s Book’ which he found so intriguing. He wasn’t willing to lift his eyes off it. He was definitely going to complete it that very night. He kept reading till he came across a very disturbing line. His brows creased as he read it over and over again. What the hell does this mean? What does she mean by this? “‘I struck a b—h on her face. The tramp tried messing with me. No one does that.’?” He mused for minutes over this. Who could this ‘b—h’ be? He went further to read more. “‘I took a picture’?” An idea hit him. “Get me Purity’s cellphone,” he said to no one in particular.
Darren got it and passed it to him. He powered it immediately. It requested for a passcode. “S–t!” he cursed under his breath. “What on earth is her passcode?”
“Do you mind telling us what’s going on?” Allan questioned, his curiosity increasing.
Jeremy couldn’t keep this from them, he had to make it known. “Its about Purity. Here, she wrote she slapped a b—h and she has the picture in her phone. I want to know who she struck and why. First, who? The phone’s requesting for a code,” he bitterly explained.
“You’re good at hacking into phones, right?” Allan asked the detective, hopefully. He wasn’t sure if he did the right thing, but he had to. A better part of him hoped for a positive answer.
“Um….,” the detective began. “I’m quite good at electronic gadgets. Hacking? I don’t think so.” He looked at the both of them. Their eyes gleamed of disappointment. Had he let them down? “I could still do something,” he assured them. He was not certain, however, he had to do something. “Let me have the phone.”
Jeremy obediently passed the cellphone to Darren. He was full of hopes. There was something in that phone that could lead them to the third person involved in her kidnapping. Darren couldn’t let them down, not now. The person must be taking revenge because Purity hit her. Who could that be?
Darren took the phone from Jeremy. This should be easy, right? He stared at it and it stared back at him, without blinking. He was confused; what could he do? He hid his confusion from his friends. He was gonna try his best. He got to work.
“Jeremy, try to remember. A password is something someone can easily recall. It must be a part of her. A word she always say or a number. Try to think back. We don’t want to put all our hopes on Darren, if you understand what I mean,” Allan propounded. He tried to sound so convincing and persuasive.
He was right. Darren had admitted that he couldn’t do it. He could really use some thinking. He left his seat and began shuffling from one corner of the living room to another. He tried recollecting all the words of Purity. What word did she always use? What would actually be that code?

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