You Could Always Ask Cecile

Meet the Grants. They live in an ordinary home, and are an ordinary family with ordinary jobs and pastimes. Then meet Cecile. She's dead.
But what happened to make her that way?
I don't know.
There's only two people who do.
The murderer won't tell.
But you could always ask Cecile.



The fab cover is made by Lily Anna:)

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3. "And good riddance!"

The person who met Hillary at the door of the house, was not unlike the one she'd created. His eyes were not quite as dark as she'd designed, nor his hair quite so black, but his face was the pale colour which reminded her of years long past, spent with her family before she'd run away. 

They'd never found her.

Hillary had no way to know if they were still looking.

"Yes?" inquired the man, in a silky, dewy tone, different to the one she'd heard by telephone. Oh. Or maybe this questioning soul was a relative of some sort.

"The name's Mkent. I'm the private detective you wanted...Some sort of suspected foul play was it?" Hillary strode forwards, her confidence appearing unjolted even when, when she stretched out her hand, the man ignored it, refusing to shake. 

The honeyed voice spoke again, it's owner frostily straightening nonexistent rumples from his sharp tie as it did so. "There has been no murder here."

Hillary, unaccustomed to practical jokes, but suspecting this was one at work, raised an eyebrow. "Then why.. Did you call me here? Told me I'd be payed upon arrival?"

"We did not hire any detective of any sort... And we'd certainly never hire you, if I may be so bold in saying so, Miss. Mkent."

The sleuth's cheeks flushed an unattractive shade of pink, as she took a step forwards, hoping to regain control of the situation.

"My name is Hillary, sir. Hillary Mkent, and you, or some relative hired me just a few minutes before -"

"Enough." Her receiver cut her off offhandedly, as annoyed at Hillary as she'd been so recently. "Miss. Mkent." His voice turned mocking. "Hillary. I advise you to get out."

"I don't believe -"

"I mean now, Miss. Mkent."

Hillary, done with the uncomfortable situation she'd been so inconveniently tossed into, harrumphed once more, before storming her way down the drive and out of the gate. 

She pretended not to hear, as faintly amused laughter sounded from behind her, and from the voice which now seemed most unpleasant came the words : "And good riddance!" 

 

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