(Sorry to all my followers or anyone who reads my stories for the long wait on updates or new stories, but this is why. This is a novel I've been trying to write and I could do with some unbiased feedback. It would be greatly appreciated. Please keep in mind, it is a work in progress. Some things may change. Again, any critique is welcome as it will help me make this novel the best it can be. Please enjoy. Also, I was wondering if anyone is willing to help me make a book trailer based off the story description and send it to me. It would be much appreciated. By the way, the picture is of Leticia and her identical twin sister, Alessandra. Please don't forget to vote and/or comment what you thought of the chapter.)

What could possibly happen that could be worse than your mother being murdered and twin sister missing for a decade? Nothing, I thought. But, I was oh so wrong.

My name is Leticia Maria González and this is my story of determination, fear, misery and resilience to solve the cases that plague two generations of women in my family.

I should have known better. I should have treaded more mindfully. If I had, I wouldn't have ended up in this place. Rosegrave Home for the Mentally Unwell, the asylum connected to Birchwood Hospital.

My father put me in here three years ago after he claimed I'd tried to kill myself. I don't remember any of it, but apparently, I'd tried to hang myself because the hospital found marks around my neck consistent with a rope.

After my dad told them I'd had other occasions where I've lashed out and hurt myself or someone else but couldn't remember it when I woke up, the doctors told my dad he should consider committing me to a mental institution for my safety and the safety of others.

It was only supposed to last at the most 2 months, so the doctors could monitor me and make sure I wasn't a threat to myself or anyone else. But, they said I'd started deteriorating.

He even managed to convince them that I hear and talk to voices no one else can hear. If I had any idea, with all that goes down in this hospital and my dad's connections, he probably paid them to agree with whatever he said.

Thy never really explained to me why I've been admitted or what I've been diagnosed with. My dad says that I don't need to know. He told me all I needed to worry about was getting better so he could bring me home again.

How am I supposed to get better if I don't know what I'm supposed to be better from? It makes no sense whatsoever, but since that day 4 years ago hardly anything seems to make sense anymore.

Every year on July 19 seemed to be the worst. It was the day my mother, Adrianna Ackerman, was murdered 4 years ago.

According to doctors, I'd developed obsessive and potentially violent behaviours that concerned some of the staff.

Whenever I could get the time, I was working on looking up my mom's case, not that they knew. I'd write down whatever I'd learned from the case in a journal of carefully detailed and organized notes. I'd had an eidetic memory since childhood, which really helped me in remembering all the details police had shared. I remember pretty much everything I see, hear or read.

My dad had been considered a suspect at first like all cases where a spouse is murdered. I didn't have to worry because I could never see my dad hurting my mom. They loved one another so much, I couldn't see either of them hurting the other.

I had been the one to find her on my parent's bedroom floor that morning. It was a regular sunny morning in the Ackerman residence, no indication of what was to be discovered.

When I woke up that morning I felt drowsy, but that's nothing a little breakfast can't fix.

I hadn't thought much of anything when my mom didn't come down for breakfast that morning. My dad said she was probably still sleeping. He'd just gotten home from his midnight shift at work.

He was a business manager and part owner of a large real estate company. He was really dedicated to his job and often spent long hours at his office.

After a while, he'd told me to go check on her. I went upstairs and was not prepared for what I saw. There was my mother lying on the floor, eyes wide open, unmoving.

I screamed and ran to her yelling, "Mom! Mom! Wake up!" I heard footsteps running up the stairs. It was my dad. He ran into their room where I was leaning over my mom's dead body. I was so in shock, but I looked up at my dad. That's when the floodgates opened. Tears began running down my face like a raging waterfall, uncontrollable.

My dad had a look of utter disbelief on his face; his jaw slack and eyes wide.

He quickly pulled out his phone and dialled what I assumed was 911, before walking into the hallway. He began pacing as he spoke to the 911 operator. I heard him say, "My daughter found her," and then, "I'll get her now. " He walked back in the room and told me, "Honey... they need you to let go of your mother. "

"I can't," I told him. My throat felt so constricted, I found it hard to catch a breath.

He said, "I know it's hard sweetie, but they need to make sure the evidence isn't compromised. You want them to find who did this, right?" I nodded. "Then you have to let go, honey. "

I slowly let go of my mom, but refused to leave her side. I wanted to sit next to her for as long as I could, because after this I'd never see her again, except for the funeral. I still couldn't believe this was happening. My dad walked up to me and picked me up from the floor. He held me as sobs wracked my body.

This had to be the worst day for this family since the day my sister went missing 7 years ago. I'd had an identical twin sister who was apparently taken from our house in the middle of the night. That was the one night we had decided to sleep in separate rooms.

For as long as I could remember, I blamed myself. I always thought that if I had been in that room that night, maybe she'd still be here today.

Police looked for many months and even years before they labelled it a cold case, presuming she was most likely dead.

Coincidentally, she went missing on July 19, 2006. Exactly 7 years to the dot of the day our mother was murdered. Was it a coincidence? Or a pattern?

I hadn't even noticed how much time had passed. Before I knew it, police officers and the coroner had arrived. I watched from my father's arms as they examined the scene and took crime scene photos. My father ushered me out of the room, not wanting me to see anymore. He thought I'd already been traumatized enough by finding her body.

A few minutes later, a police officer exited the room and walked towards my father and I.

"First... I am very sorry for your loss. " He said. I saw his badge read Officer G. Nunez.

"Thank you," My dad said. I only nodded, my eyes welling with tears.

"Now I know this is a rough time, but I will need to ask you a few questions. Do you have an attorney?"

"Do we need one?" My dad asked.

"It is simply to protect all parties. You do not need one, but is your legal right to have an attorney present during any form of questioning, " Officer Nunez told him. "We would appreciate interviewing you separately. Is that okay?"

"Anything we can do to help. "My dad told him. He turned to me. "It's all going to be okay sweetie. We'll get past this. "

I couldn't help but notice as he said 'this' with slight malice. Officer Nunez seemed to be oblivious to this fact. Even to me, it didn't seem to actually mean anything. It was only dad... being dad.

"I can have a female officer ask your daughter the questions if that is better," Nunez said.

"Whatever is okay with my baby girl. " Dad looked down at me and I nodded my head.

A female officer, P. Cosgrove, walked over to me and led me away from my father to my bedroom down the hall. I walked in and sat on my bed, grabbing the stuffed tiger my mom had bought me when I was 8 since she knew tigers were my favourite animal.

"Hello, Ms Ackerman. I am Officer Patricia Cosgrove," she started.

"Leticia is fine and I prefer González," I told her. González was my mother's maiden name. She was born in Brazil but her parents were born in Columbia. I'd always preferred my mom's last name over my dad's. I was always more of a mama's girl as was my sister, Alessandra. Now, it made me feel close to her again, in the only way I could now that she was gone.

"Of course," she said. "I need to ask you a few questions. Is that okay with you?" I nodded. "Okay, let's get this over with. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable so if at any time you become uncomfortable you let me know okay? We can stop and take a break whenever you need." I nodded. "Now, was there anyone you know who would have any reason to want to hurt your mom?"

I shook my head. "No. Everyone loved my mom. Nobody could ever hur--"I paused.

She looked up. "What is it? Do you remember something?"

"I'm not sure. But, there was this one time a couple of months ago I went out with my mom to the grocery store and this man seemed to be following us. I would try to glance - not too obviously - at him and every time I did that, it was like he knew. He'd pretend to shop around like he wasn't following us. I told my mom and she said it'd be okay and to stick next to her. I turned to look again and this time there was another man with the first man who was following us. This guy seemed to be watching me while his friend was watching my mom. Every time I looked in the corner of my eye, they were there. At first, I could dismiss it as coincidence but when they were behind us the entire time, it really seemed as if they were following us. We quickly grabbed what we needed and left. I thought they followed us so I told my mom to drive around for awhile so they didn't follow us home. " Ms Cosgrove took notes as I told her everything I remembered in detail.

"That was a very smart thing to do, especially for someone so young. Now, did you or your mom see either of the men after that day?"

"Thank you. My mom said she said she saw one of the men a week later when she went to pick up a few things at the grocery store buying me ginger ale for my stomach and the day after that I saw the guy I thought was watching me. "

"Did either of them approach you or your mom?" She asked.

"My mom said he didn't approach her. However the guy I kept seeing seemed to start coming towards me, but my friend, Penny Goldbloom, came back with ice cream which seemed to stop him. He walked right past us."

"Did you or your mother tell anyone about these men? You dad? Anyone?"

"No. My mom thought they might have been a few weird coincidences and didn't want to cause any trouble if it was nothing and I agreed. I would feel awful if I ruined someone's life with false accusations."

"That's understandable. Now... did you hear, see or feel anything out of the ordinary yesterday?"

"Not really. When I was sleeping last night I thought I heard my door open. But, it could have been my dad or uncle checking on me." Someone checked on me every night, especially after my sister's disappearance to make sure I didn't meet the same fate.

"Uncle?" She asked.

"Yeah. My uncle Brian has been here for a week, but I think he left earlier this morning before anyone was up. He told me he'd probably be gone before I woke. He had to head back to work."

Little did I know, that statement would be the beginning of turning my life upside down. Everything that I thought I knew, I had to look at differently.