Peter was beside the bathtub and on the ground, and he was holding Jenna in his arms.
She was still in her cloths, but her whole feature was damp and wet.
"No..." Alexandra whispered, not believing her eyes.
"Jenna... Jenna, love... Please... Wake up..." Peter was muttering words into her ears, but she didn't react to it. "Please open your eyes." Tears left his eyes after one another. "God... Jenna... No... Please..." He cried. "Help me... Someone... Jenna, please open your eyes..."
But she didn't.
"GOD! WHY!?" Peter shrieked and cried and cried and cried.
"Oh, my..." That was the only thing that Alexandra managed to say.
The sound of Peter's screams woke everyone up. Makayla Hess, Jacob, and James all ran through the room.
They all stood there in silence from shock.
"S-she's... She's not breathing..." Peter cried. "WHY ISN'T SHE BREATHING!?"
Jacob ran forward and bent down and took Jenna in his arms and then placed her on the cold ground.
He first checked her pulse on her neck, then without no further actions, he quickly pushed his palms against her chest a few times.
He leaned down and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Then he pushed her chest again.
Jenna's face was as pale as snow and her skin was burning in coldness. Her eyes were closed as if she were in a peaceful dream.
But she wasn't.
Jenna was gone.
Jacob raised his head and gave Peter a sympathetic look.
"No!" Peter howled in pain. His heart was hurting.
Jacob motioned his hands, looking at James.
"He says that we should leave." Said James.
He then, with the help of Jacob, carried Peter out of the room. He was too feeble to resist. Mrs. Hess exited the room as well to comfort Peter, even though she was crying as well.
But Alexandra just stood there. Too shocked to react. Too shocked to shed a single tear. Too much to even blink or breath.
Jenna was gone forever.
A few days passed. Peter didn't even cry anymore; he was out of tears.
Alexandra wasn't better, if not worse.
Because she had heard Jenna beg her to help her. But Alexandra didn't listen and thought that she was merely sleepwalking.
"I promised her, you know." Alexandra muttered.
It was the day of the funeral. The church and burial ceremony was now over. Mrs. Hess and Jacob took Peter home, leaving Alexandra and James in the graveyard.
"Promised her what?" James asked.
But Alexandra didn't answer that question. Instead, she said, "The night that it happened, I saw her. She was crying. Saying that she had done something wrong and it was her fault and that someone was going to..."
Alexandra finally looked up at James. "To kill her."
James frowned. He remembered something. He remembered someone saying those same words...
"I promised her that everything would be better the next day when she woke up." A tear escaped her eyes. "But she never got to see the next morning anymore. And... And it's all my fault." She started crying.
"Hey! Alex! Look at me!" James put his hands on her shoulders. "It is not. Your. Fault. Do you understand?"
"But only if I had told someone–"
"–It would've happened anyway. You couldn't help her."
Alexandra was about to protest, but James pulled her into a tight hug.
Paul Henderson returned in two weeks. When he was told that Jenna was dead, a frown formed on his forehead, and for the first time in his life, he hugged Peter and told him how sorry he was.
Two more weeks passed by. The Henderson mansion became calmer, but it still was all gray and sad.
The night wore on a much deeper and chilling, and pitch-darkness enwrapped itself around Alexandra and She began to feel as though she was submerged in a dark sea slowly sinking into the cold, unplumbed blackness.
Alexandra looked into the fireplace of the main hall. Its fire had died down and all that could be seen now was ash.
Although, when Alexandra paid more attention, she saw something. A paper was laying down beneath the ashes.
Someone was trying to burn it... To get rid of it...
Curiosity took over her and so she walked toward the fireplace and bent down, taking up the paper.
It was all burnt, but it gave her enough information that it was a newspaper and its date belonged to the previous week. The headline read:
'The Escaped Prisoner, Holy Walker'
Quickly, Alexandra entered one of the rooms of the house that had a spare computer in it.
She turned it on and googled the subtitle of that news and the date and the result showed at last.
There was a picture of a woman at the bottom of the page and an article right above it. Alexandra ignored the picture and instead read the text quickly.
'The Escaped Prisoner, Holy Walker'
Convicted murderer, Holy Walker, is still at large after escaping Wandsworth Prison last week, London, United Kingdom. Walker, a woman of 28, serving a lifetime prison sentence by the help of lawyer Andrea Brooke at HMP Liverpool for the brutal killing of Annabelle Simpson and Ben Corner and the unsuccessful attack on Jacob Hess, fled from prison at around 4 a.m.
Alexandra read the last sentence again and again, checking if she had read right. Jacob Hess? Unsuccessful attack?
At last, she all of a sudden found it necessary to scroll down the page to look at the picture of the woman.
But when she did so, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
Alexandra knew the woman perfectly.
But how was it possible... How did she look like that... Was it possible if...? No... It couldn't be...
Someone knocked on the door of the mansion loudly. Alexandra quickly stood up to go and open it just to distract herself from what she just saw.
But when she opened the door, her eyes widened even more.
There stood the woman in the picture.
It was Holy Walker, standing right in front of her before her own eyes.
But that wasn't what got Alexandra by surprise.
What caught her more off guard was the fact that Holy Walker looked exactly like Alexandra herself, like an identical version of her.