Broken Bridge, Distant Waves

Ten years after my death, the man responsible for thirteen murders was finally arrested.
The trial was broadcast live.
He stared into the camera, confessing to his crimes, one by one, detailing where hed hidden the bodies.
But when he got to the ninth victim, a strange, chilling smile spread across his face.
She was the most pathetic one I ever dealt with. And the one who most deserved to die, he said, his eyes glinting. I want to see every single member of her family, right here, in thirty minutes. If you fail, I will retract my entire confession.
He leaned closer to the microphone. You will never find the remaining bodies, and this case will remain a mystery forever.
The internet erupted. My name, Nora Shaw, flashed across the screen as a nationwide search for my family began.
Liam Carter, his face contorted with fury, slammed his police cap onto the table. He snatched his phone and barked into it:
Nora, youve been living it up overseas for ten years! Why do you still hate the family who exposed you for who you are?!
Hiring a serial killer to act out this pathetic drama just to get our attention? Is that what youve sunk to?
A decade had done much to chisel away the boyishness of Liam, now the captain of the Homicide Division. His anger was a low, controlled inferno.
Annabelle and I are getting married tomorrow. Ive put up with your nonsense for ten years, Nora. Did you have to stir up trouble now, of all times?
No one is going to play your games anymore!
If I were the Nora of the past, I would have stammered an apology.
But the Nora who had been dead for a decade couldnt answer him.
Sorry, the number you have dialed is The mechanical voice on the other end reminded him that I had supposedly left the country ten years ago. My old phone number was long deactivated.
His rage dissipated into nothing, like a punch thrown at smoke.
Frustrated, Liam snatched his cap, jammed it on his head, and settled back into his seat, his features once again a mask of cold professionalism.
Someone in the online chat remembered me.
Nora Shaw? The genius architect? She vanished right after the groundbreaking for the Cross-River Bridge project.
So she didnt just vanish. A serial killer got her!
She wasnt even twenty-five. Such a brilliant mind lost too soon.
The chat filled with condolences for me.
But Liam, usually the pillar of composure, shot to his feet. He had to correct the rumors.
Nora Shaw did not vanish, he announced, his voice sharp and clear. She was exposed as a fake heiress. She abandoned everything here and fled the country to enjoy her new life!
The Cross-River Bridge was nearly a catastrophic failure because she irresponsibly abandoned the project.
It was only thanks to the real heiress, Annabelle Shaw, who stepped in at the last minute and dedicated ten years of her life to it, that the bridge can finally open to traffic tomorrow.
At the mention of Annabelle, he completely forgot his professional demeanor.
He was like a flustered young man, desperately defending his sweethearts honor.
It was just like the day he received his first commendation. Hed grabbed my hand, pulled me onto the stage with him, and declared to the entire auditorium:
This is Nora Shaw, the most brilliant architect in Northwood, and my fiance.
Half of this medal, hed proclaimed, belongs to her!
He unpinned the gleaming bronze medal from his own chest and carefully fastened it to mine. Amid the cheers and whistles of his colleagues, Liam, his face flushed, had leaned in and kissed me.
How times had changed.
The leading man was the same, but the woman he cherished was now someone else. The medals and commendations now belonged to another.
That sincere heart, which had once moved me to tears, had been given, whole and unblemished, to Annabelle.
Now, when he spoke my name, his face was a mask of undisguised disgust.
Nora, even if you paid this murderer to claim he killed you, I will never believe it!
Youd better show your face and end this farce, or you will be charged with obstruction of justice!
He shot a cold, piercing glare at the killer.
Where, he demanded, each word a block of ice, is Nora Shaw?!
His colleagues flinched, averting their eyes from his fury.
Only the killer met his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips.
I told you, Captain. You want to know where I put her body? You have thirty minutes to bring me her family.
He pointed a finger at the clock on the wall, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light.
Ten minutes have already passed. Id advise you to make the most of the time you have left.
The killers chilling threat sent a wave of fear through the online audience.
Within minutes, the internet was flooded with posts searching for my relatives.
Dont let Nora Shaw deceive you! Liams voice cut through the noise, calm and authoritative, as he laid out his preconceived verdict.
Nora is doing this because shes jealous that I broke off our engagement and am marrying Annabelle.
I once stood on the riverbank and swore to Annabelle that the day the Cross-River Bridge opened would be our wedding day.
She timed this entire spectacle to ruin our wedding tomorrow. Thats all this is!
He glared at the screen, his face a mask of righteous pain.
I could almost hear his thoughts: Nora, you lived Annabelles life as the heiress for nearly thirty years. What more could you possibly want?
Liam! The courtroom doors burst open.
Annabelle stood there, soaked to the bone by a sudden downpour. Liam immediately shrugged off his uniform jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
His eyes softened with concern. What are you doing here in this storm? I told you Id come see you after work.
There was a subtle tension in his voice, a desperate need to protect the trembling woman in his arms from any further harm.
Liams gaze snapped back to the camera. Nora, you see this? Youve made Annabelle miserable. Are you satisfied now?
Annabelle, her face pale, shook her head and clutched his sleeve. Its perfectly normal for my sister to resent me, Liam. Please, dont blame her.
She pulled out a file, carefully wrapped in a waterproof covering, and held it up to the camera. Nora, sister, if youre angry that I took over the Cross-River Bridge project, Ill make it right. At the opening ceremony tomorrow, I will have the organizers announce you as the lead architect.
Please, just stop making things difficult for Liam. Hes just trying to do his job, to keep people safe!
There wasnt a trace of resentment in her voice as she defended me. Her eyes even shimmered with unshed tears. Paired with her drenched, fragile appearance, she was the picture of pitiable grace.
Instantly, the comments section flipped, filled with sympathy for her and anger at me.
Nora Shaw is a monster, tormenting the real heiress like this for her own selfish games.
Must be nice living it up abroad. Guess she has enough money to hire murderers for entertainment.
But the Cross-River Bridge project
Annabelle had stolen it from me.
The day she took my blueprints, her voice was sharp with entitlement. Sister, you pretended to be me for thirty years. Think of this as a little interest on the debt you owe me.
Shortly after, the lead architects name on all the internal project documents was changed to Annabelle Shaw.
Nora! Have you not caused enough trouble? Do you have to destroy Annabelles life to be satisfied? Liam roared, his hand going to his service weapon. He drew it, the click of the safety echoing in the tense room, and pressed the muzzle to the killers head.
You like theatrics? Fine. Ill play along. Tell me, where is Nora Shaws body?!
Captain, dont! His fellow officers surged forward, trying to disarm him.
The killer remained unfazed. He even seemed amused by Liams incandescent rage.
Ive seen all the relatives from that photograph. Bring every single one of them here, or I confess to nothing.
Photograph? What photograph? Liam was completely lost. Of course he was. He had been in countless photoswork photos, award ceremony photos. How could he possibly remember one insignificant picture?
But that photo was the only family portrait I ever had.
After Annabelle was welcomed back as the true heiress, our two families had posed for one picture. My adoptive parentsher biological parentsand my biological parents all stood smiling, clustered around Annabelle, leaving an awkward, empty space around me.
Even so, I had treasured that strangely composed photograph, keeping it with me for years.
When I returned to my biological family, my parents could barely spare me a smile. They eventually gave up everything to move to Northwood, just to be closer to Annabelle. They only returned to our hometown of Southport for one day a year, for ancestral rites, and even then, they complained endlessly about the three-hour detour.
If only there were a bridge across the river, connecting Northwood and Southport, theyd sigh. Then we could see Annabelle every day.
Because of those words, I turned down a lucrative offer from a top engineering firm overseas. I poured every ounce of my being into making the Cross-River Bridge a reality.
The day the project was officially greenlit, I walked out of the temporary construction housing Id lived in for over two hundred days and went home for the first time to share the good news with my biological parents.
Blinded by joy, I didnt notice the man following me.
By the time I saw the knife in his hand and tried to run, it was too late.
The door to my home, my only sanctuary, was just a step away. But my parents had changed the lock, installing a new keypad. The cold, metal door blocked my escape.
I died on my own doorstep.
The half-inch threshold, as I fell, felt like an insurmountable mountain.
Nora, darling, Mommy and Daddy are so sorry were late!
An elderly couple stumbled into the courtroom, weeping for the camera.
Youve been abroad for ten years. Cant you let go of your resentment for us?
Let it go, child.
Id heard those words a thousand times.
Hadnt I let go of enough?
I let go of my identity as the heiress and went back to them.
I let go of a brilliant career overseas to build their precious bridge.
I let go of the blueprints I had bled over for years, handing my reputation to Annabelle.
For Liam, I had even let go of my own life.
What else was there for me to let go of?
Liam banged his fist on the table. Talk! he snarled at the killer.
The killer shot him a disdainful look and slammed his own fist down, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Are you trying to fool me with actors? Her real parents aren't here yet!
I blinked, a bitter laugh catching in my non-existent throat.
Ten years. Id forgotten what my own parents looked like, so much so that I hadnt recognized these impostors.
A vein throbbed in Liams temple. Her biological parents are in Southport, and her adoptive parents are in Northwood! The bridge doesnt open until tomorrow, and theres a torrential storm outside! How am I supposed to get them here?
The killer just smiled. Then I thank you for the opportunity to retract my confession, Captain.
He glanced at the clock. You have six minutes left.
The public was outraged by Liams coldness. Countless volunteers in both cities started searching for my parents.
Fearing a public relations nightmare, Liam finally relented. He coordinated with the department to dispatch a helicopter to pick up both sets of parents.
Thirty seconds left, the killer announced smugly, propping his feet up on the table.
Three
Two
One!
On the final second, the courtroom doors were thrown open. A collective sigh of relief filled the room.
My adoptive and biological parents walked in, arm in arm, unhurried. The first person they looked for was Annabelle.
Oh, my sweet girl, did you get caught in the rain?
Are you cold, Annie?
When my name was mentioned, it was with a sneer. Nora dead? Dont be ridiculous. Shes probably sunbathing on a beach somewhere.
Liams patience finally snapped. He grabbed the killer by the collar. Talk! he roared.
The killer looked at the circle of people before him and laughed, a low, guttural sound. She really was pathetic
The audience murmured in confusion. The killer looked up, his voice suddenly clear and loud, and finally revealed my resting place.
Her body is sealed in the concrete of the central pier of the Cross-River Bridge.
In the dead silence that followed, Liam let out a choked, mocking laugh.
Nora, I thought you had a better trick up your sleeve than this.
Ten years, and you still havent grown out of these jealous games.
You orchestrated this entire elaborate drama just to make me destroy Annabelles masterpiece, just to stop our wedding.
But amidst the suffocating tension, the killer began to speak again, his voice chillingly calm.
Before I killed her, she had a chance to live.
It was true. I did.

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