Only she remembered what happened on her wedding day, and her groom held the key to understanding the intent behind his unexpected death. As delicate fingers trailed the burned edges of what was once the beautiful, lace, floor-length gown worn on that fateful day, Elouise’s chestnut brows furrowed slightly.

There has to be something here, something to explain how this all happened. Her fingers trembled against the soft fabrics as she recalled the events of that day.

Deep, emerald eyes studied the beadwork of the gown, looking for answers. However, Elouise’s fretful thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps nearing her bedroom door. She quickly pushed the shambled gown back into the deepest crevices of her closet and rubbed her fingers along the rough denim fabric of her jeans before turning to face her mother, who had allowed herself in without any warning.

“Are you quite alright, dear?” Evangeline called from the doorway; her left eyebrow shifted in suspicion. “You’ve not come down for breakfast yet, and it is going to get cold soon.”

“Yes, Mum, I’ll be right down,” Elouise murmured, faking a smile.

“Alright, then.”

As the door shut, leaving her alone with her thoughts, Elouise leaned against the wall, running fingers through her disheveled brown locks.

             I must be more careful. If anyone knew what I witnessed that day before the ceremony, my entire family would be in danger.

She straightened her back and smoothed down the locks of stray hair before making her way to the door and down the staircase that would lead to the kitchen. Elouise knew that by keeping all of this to herself, she was protecting the people she loved most. However, she couldn’t help but feel as if there was something bigger going on. Her father smiled as she entered the doorway, opening his arms for an embrace.

“Ah, my Ellie-Cat, how are you this morning, my sweet?”

Jacob’s grin put her at ease, and Elouise fell into his embrace.

“I’m doing better, considering, Papa.” She smiled softly, burying her face into the familiar scent of his cologne.

As the family sat down to eat, Elouise’s grandmother emerged from her sitting room, positioning herself across the table from her granddaughter.

“Good morning, Ellie.” Veronica smiled as she lifted her teacup to her lips.

Elouise could only nod at her, a small smile etching across her face. “Nan-Nan.”

The only noise that echoed in the house was the scraping of silverware on plates as the family enjoyed their breakfast of sausage and toast. Elouise picked slowly at her eggs, studying the wedding band that still sat on her left ring finger. Jacob cleared his throat, causing all three women to jolt. As she straightened her back against the chair in shock, Elouise’s eyes shot up to her father’s.

“So, I know this has been hard on you, Ellie-Cat, and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I couldn’t imagine losing Evie, especially so quickly. Is there anything we can do to help you… I don’t know, maybe process this?”

Three pairs of green eyes stared back at him silently, and Jacob lowered his brown ones back to his plate.

“The sausage today is class, Evie…” He said, defeated.

“Thank you, dear.”

Elouise brushed a tear that had escaped from her cheek before pushing herself away from the table. “Thanks for breakfast, Mum. I enjoyed spending time with you all, but I have a few errands to run.” She forced a small smile before escaping into the living room and grabbing her backpack to leave the flat.


All eyes turned to face Jacob before the onslaught of questions and accusations came.

“Why would you bring that up first thing in the morning?” Evie scolded.

“She’s just a month out from the funeral!” Veronica’s eyes tilted at him over the rims of her glasses.

Jacob sank into his chair. “I was only trying to be supportive! She was so ready to leave and begin this new life with this man, none of us really knew, and now she’s completely changed in a matter of weeks. Are you not concerned about that at all?”

His mother-in-law and wife both sighed softly, and Evie placed a dainty hand on his larger, calloused ones.

“Grief is a monster that everyone deals with differently.” Evangeline cooed at her husband.

“And we are concerned, for all we know, that man could have been horrible riffraff.” Veronica spat before picking up her tea once again.

Elouise tried to ignore her father’s confrontation as she walked the streets of Barnsley. Her eyes glazed over while she disassociated from the crowd of people practicing their usual morning routines. People smiled and waved as she passed by, but Elouise hardly noticed. Her thoughts were entirely focused on the dress. Whatever happened to Darren was meant to be for her. She had noticed the same burns on her gown that had riddled her husband’s body and tuxedo.

Acid. It had to be acid burns. She shivered at the thought. Someone must have wanted to kill, or at least badly deform me, on the day of my wedding.

She was interrupted once again when she bumped into something, or rather, someone. Elouise gasped, jumping slightly at the shock and falling toward the road. A soft, breathy chuckle left the man’s lips as he caught her by the wrist, pulling her safely back to the roadside.

“You should really watch where you’re going, Miss...?” His bright blue eyes pierced hers as she met his gaze.

“Mrs. Banks.” She sputtered out. “I-I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.” Her eyes quickly shifted to the ground as she stepped back away from him, brushing her hands against her jeans once more.

“Ah, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Mrs. Banks. I am Special Agent Kingston. I was on my way to your flat to inquire about your husband’s murder. What a coincidence.”

Elouise froze at the man’s casual accusation, her eyes flickering back to meet his.

             “His what?”

             “Oh, yes. An autopsy was done before the funeral, and we believe it was no accident at all.”

             Elouise’s eyes fluttered closed as shock gave way, and the whole world went dark.



 Waking up in her bed several hours later, Elouise rubbed the back of her throbbing head, a soft grunt reverberating from her chest.

What on Earth happened? Was that a wild dream?

Elouise scrambled frantically for her phone, almost knocking over the glass of water that sat on her bedside table. She huffed, frustrated, as she hastily scrolled through her search engine for S.A. Kingston. Several searches decorated her screen: Facebook accounts, Instagram, Tinder. She scrolled past them all until she reached the United Kingdom Special Forces website. It showed a lackluster amount of information, as expected. Elouise smirked slightly as she navigated to the library information database from work. Her eyes fixated on the screen as she slowly typed in the name “Special Agent Kingston”. Finally, her breath caught as she scrolled upon two chillingly familiar names. The blue light of the screen illuminated her face, contorted in confusion and desperation.

S.A. Lionel J. Kingston, 31, of Manchester, England- UKSF: SSR

S.A. Darren M. Banks, 28, of Sheffield, England- UKSF: SSR

I guess I didn’t know him as well as I thought... Elouise bit her lip, thinking back to that night in the pub where she first met Darren. She never would have guessed that the man who swept her off her feet in their drunken stupor would have been in British special forces. It explained the mysteriously large number in his bank account that was passed down to Elouise upon his demise. Her family acted as if the unexpected inheritance was a boon of fortune, but Elouise always wondered where that money came from. Darren had only ever spoken to her about menial office labor that he groaned was mediocre and draining his life force. Elouise giggled to herself at the recollection of Darren’s hatred of all things sedentary. Her smile faded softly as she drew her attention back to the screen. She clicked on Darren’s name from among his colleagues, half expecting to wake up from this nightmare. Her husband’s face stared back at her, his perfect smile almost taunting her. She scanned the photo, and her fingers ached for the softness of his tousled blonde locks. Elouise let a small sob escape her lips, and the phone trembled in her hand, fingers white from the grip.

What happened to you, Darren? Who did this to you?

Elouise looked up from her phone, halfway still in shock. “I must find Lionel. He must know something.” She tossed the cellphone onto the bed before standing up, a new determination burning in her chest. She would find out what happened to Darren, and why his ex, Sierra, had been running away from their wedding venue moments before Darren was found, burned to death in the church. Elouise’s hands shook as she searched for her backpack.

When the cellphone on her bed rang, Elouise turned to grab it. The backpack fell from her hands when she saw the name that rolled across the screen. Looks like Lionel had found her.

She accepted the call, not bothering to say hello. “I think I do have some information you might be interested in. Since the wedding, I’ve noticed some burns on my gown. I think something was thrown at Darren… I-It’s eaten the lace away from the dress, I think it might be acidic.”

A soft hum of amusement echoed through her ears, and fear began eating its way into her chest.

 “Thank you for the confirmation, Elouise. It was just the information I needed.” The phone clicked, and there was silence.

Thoughts raced through Elouise’s mind. What if he’s the one who killed Darren? Would he know if Sierra had a motive? Did he think that she had done it to gain Darren’s estate?

The sounds of shrieking and breaking glass thrust her from the spiral of questions. As she listened to the sound of footsteps making their way to her room, Elouise felt she had her answer, and she was prepared for the consequence.