Sweetest Downfall

Sofi Cabello has been missing for one year. Camila attends therapy to help herself heal from the traumatic loss. Little does she know, her therapist, Lauren Jauregui, is the same woman who murdered her younger sister. Serial Killer AU.

Chapter Text

No one would ever suspect her. When the term "serial killer" is mentioned, people think of middle aged men with a history of childhood abuse or trauma. High school dropouts and drug addicts. She was raised by loving parents in a wonderful community. This girl didn't mutilate animals in her childhood. She completed high school, graduated college, and went on to earn a master's degree in Psychology to become a psychologist. Lauren Jauregui defies the stereotypes painted by the media.

She's an extremely charismatic individual, surrounded by countless friends. Anyone would be proud to know her. And yet here she stands in her basement over 14 year old Sofi Cabello. Her choice of victims is random. She does not kill for revenge or any reason other than her sick psychopathic desires. Watching the life leave her victims' eyes, feeling the warmth leave their skin, hearing their screams and witnessing their struggling... it's what fuels her. This particular victim was biking home from a friend's house at the wrong time and wrong place. Lauren stuffed her in the back of her car and transported the young girl to her house.

The small girl lays on top of a table with her wrists and ankles bound to restrict movement. A bandana is used as a makeshift gag. When Lauren drags her blade across Sofi's neck, she makes a sickening gargling noise as blood spurts out, staining the table and the killer. The green eyed girl's lips curl up into a smirk as she watches her victim's eyes glaze over.

This is not an unfamiliar game for Lauren. It's her 27th kill. She's been murdering for the past year and has developed a foolproof routine for disposing of the bodies. After preparing an acid bath in a plastic tub, she soaks the corpse. In a matter of hours, most of the flesh will dissolve, leaving a puddle of blood and organs. And those can be destroyed in a fire.

While she waits for the dissolving process, Lauren heads into her bathroom to shower off the blood. Stepping out of her clothing, she studies her naked body in the mirror. Dark crimson blood stains her face, neck, and arms, contrasting her pale skin. This shade of red is her favorite.

*****

It's been a year since the murder of Sofi Cabello. A week ago as Lauren scrolled through her appointment schedule on her computer, one name in particular stood out beyond all the rest.

Camila Cabello.

Cabello.

She remembers watching the news in the days following the murder of the young girl. Most of her victims were older. This was the first adolescent she killed, and naturally those missing persons cases receive the most attention.

"MISSING: SOFIA CABELLO." On every single news channel she flipped to, that was the headline. The picture a young Latina girl was on the front of every newspaper in Miami. The case evolved from citywide to statewide, then finally nationwide. For a month, the Cabello family made appearances on every famous news show in America. They were always teary eyed, begging for the return of their daughter. The older sister, Camila, never said a word, sitting beside her parents with a blank expression on her face as if she had nothing left inside of her. They hoped for the best—little did they know, their daughter was far from saving. She was gone at the hands of Lauren. And that knowledge was enough to satisfy Lauren's sadistic thirst for the rest of her life.

The case stopped getting coverage a few months in. Most people figured that she was a lost cause. The Cabello's could no longer afford to fly around the country and do interviews, as most of their money was being funneled toward the investigation. About 6 months after Sofi's mysterious disappearance, Camila attempted suicide and was hospitalized. The family was only receiving negative media coverage at this point, and refused to make any further comments.

And now the broken girl sits on the couch facing Lauren's desk, wearing the same exact expression that she wore on every televised interview: blank. Her dark eyes meet the older woman's, but Lauren can tell that she isn't really looking at her. Just from her appearance, Lauren can make a few educated inferences.

The bags under Camila's eyes indicate that she hasn't gotten a peaceful night of sleep in months—her dreams are probably haunted by her sister's disappearance. Her arms are covered by long sleeves, despite the 100 degree weather in Miami—they probably cover scars. Scars from the suicide attempt, scars from other incidents of self-harm. She's been through a lot. She doesn't know she's sitting across the person who ruined her life.

Clearing her throat softly, she breaks the silence. "Hi Camila, you can call me Lauren."

Camila nods. If you can call it that. She barely moves her head. It almost looked more like an involuntary spasm rather than a nod. But it was a nod.

Some clients don't speak at all in therapy. And Lauren learned that you can't force them to open up, they do that themselves. It may take weeks, even months for Camila to begin talking, if she even returns. Clearly, going to therapy wasn't her own idea.

"You can take your time. We have an hour. Whether you want to talk to me or just sit here with me in silence, it's up to you," Lauren tells her.

Interpreting her words as sarcasm, Camila finally speaks. "I didn't choose to be here. I got out of rehab and my doctor is forcing me to go." Although she shows little emotion, there is some anger behind her response.

"I understand," Lauren nods, assuring her in a gentle tone. "I didn't mean for it to come off like that. The act of simply coming to therapy is proven to help. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here."

Camila relaxes, moving her eyes to the ground. The two sit in silence, the younger girl's eyes fixed on the carpet and Lauren's eyes fixed on her. Occasionally Camila will glance up to look at the clock, but that's the most she'll move. As Lauren watches her, she begins to notice how much of a beautiful young woman she is. Sofi definitely resembles what she imagines to be a younger version of Camila. Somehow, even as emotionless and dead as she is, this girl is still attractive. Lauren pictures how she would look laughing, her full lips turned up into a smile that shows her perfect white teeth.

And then Lauren pictures how she would look cumming for her. Her eyes shut tight, her hands gripping the sheets, her mouth wide open as she moans "Lauren, Lauren" over and over again until the pleasure overwhelms her to the point where she can't form a coherent thought and all she can do is scream.

Her perversions are interrupted by her client standing up abruptly and leaving the room. Lauren's heart momentarily stops as an irrational thought enters her head. Fuck, she's a mind reader! She read Lauren's fucking thoughts and she got creeped out and now she's running away. But then she realizes that mind readers don't exist and the clock just struck 4:00 PM, ending the one hour time slot that every one of her clients is allotted.

They meet every Tuesday and Friday at 3:00 PM in her office. For the first month, every session is identical: Lauren greets Camila, Camila acknowledges her with a small nod, Camila sits down, one hour of silence (and Lauren imagining herself fucking Camila), and then Camila leaves.

The first time they share an actual conversation about a month into their sessions, it has nothing to do with her little sister's disappearance or her depression. Camila is the one to speak up about thirty minutes in.

"I started re-reading the Harry Potter series yesterday. I'm sorry, did I startle you?"

Lauren nearly jumps out of her seat when Camila starts speaking. She was lost in her sexual fantasies; the sudden break in the silence was alarming. Yet she shakes her head and smiles. "Don't mind me. I love that series, JK Rowling really created a fascinating world. Is this your second time reading the books?"

"Third. I read it for the first time as the books were released for the first time... the second time was right after I graduated high school and was bored out of my mind during summer break... and it's always been a favorite of mine so I figured, why not start reading them again?" Camila shrugs. Her voice is pleasant. The type that you want to listen to at night before you sleep. The type of voice that would be perfect for the radio or TV. And the type of voice that would be ideal screaming Lauren's name in bed.

"It's never a bad idea to immerse yourself in the things you love. Who are your favorite characters?" And just like that, the two of them talk not like therapist and patient, but like close friends. They discuss their favorite characters, which book was their favorite out of the seven, the translation of the book to the movies, and what house they would be in if they attended Hogwarts. Camila is truly engaged by this discussion, passionate about the Harry Potter universe. She laughs at Lauren's little jokes, she rolls her eyes when they talk about what character they hate. She shows actual emotion. When the clock strikes 4, Lauren can see clear disappointment in Camila's eyes, and she feels it too. She wants to continue the conversation, but the clock brings them back to reality. They aren't friends. Lauren is her therapist. Nothing more.

Camila sighs and stands up from the couch. "See you Friday," she smiles lightly at the other girl before exiting the room.

That little smile makes Lauren's heart skip a beat and blood to rush to her cheeks. Thank god the younger girl doesn't stick around long enough to see her get this flustered. She replays their interactions in her head, the memory of Camila's giggle causing her to blush even harder.

She has feelings for Camila. The sister of the girl she murdered. Fuck.

The following sessions, they continue their discussions, talking about everything from their favorite books and their favorite movies to their favorite foods and places to travel. Every session leaves Lauren wanting more. She wants to take Camila out for coffee and share their favorite memories with each other. She wants to sit on the beach with her at night, not talking and simply enjoying the calming sound of the waves crashing onto the shore. She wants everything with this girl.

When Camila finally lets her walls down for Lauren, it's completely unexpected. They're avidly talking about their favorite music artists and Camila is passionately talking about Ed Sheeran.

"His lyrics get me so much. I've never listened to any songs that accurately illustrate how I feel as much as his do. I went to one of his concerts. It was probably the best day of my life," Camila grins, recalling the memory with happiness.

"What's your favorite song by him?" Lauren inquires. "I'm really into Give Me Love. He sings with so much passion, it amazes me."

"Wake Me Up and Lego House... I used to sing those to Sofi all the time so she could fall asleep," Camila's smile quickly fades into a frown. Tears well up in her eyes and spill onto her face. Her body shakes as she sobs uncontrollably, allowing all of the sadness and anger she has been bottling up for the past months to finally release. With a sympathetic frown, Lauren hands her tissues from across the desk.

The crying doesn't stop. It only intensifies.

There is no such thing as pretty crying or a beautiful sadness. When there exists such a deep sorrow inside of someone, tears don't delicately flow out of their eyes one at a time with soft weeps. They stream out of their eyes, wetting their entire face. Snot collects, loud weeping noises escape the mouth, and it isn't pretty.

"I can't breathe, it hurts so much," Camila sobs, curling up into a ball on the couch as the sadness from the past months finally catches up with her. It consumes her. "It hurts so bad, Lauren."

It would be unprofessional for Lauren to move to the couch and hug Camila. When her clients cry, all she is supposed to do is hand them tissues. Otherwise it supposedly crosses boundaries and destroys the professionalism.

Fuck professionalism.

Lauren grabs more tissues and sits on the couch beside Camila. Wiping her tears as they escape her eyes, she wraps her arms around the smaller girl and holds her. "Shhhh, take a deep breath," Lauren whispers, stroking her long hair.

"I can't," Camila shakes her head, gasping for breath, unable to calm herself down.

"Yes you can. Breathe, babe, I'm here. You're ok, you're going to be ok," Lauren pulls her closer, rubbing her back with her other hand in a soothing manner. It takes Camila a few tries, but soon she is breathing normally. Still crying, but breathing.

She holds the brown eyed girl until the crying dies down. Until there is nothing but silence. Until there are no tears left for her to cry.

"I feel so empty," Camila sighs. "You know that feeling you get after you cry so hard that you feel like you're going to puke or pass out? When you feel like there's nothing left inside of you and nothing will ever happen again? Yeah. That's how it feels."

"But things will happen, Camila. Life will go on. I'm not going to tell you it's going to be easy because it won't be, it's going to be fucking hard but that's why I'm here for you. It doesn't get easier but it will get better. You will be okay. You're going to survive this," Lauren reassures her.

"I don't want to forget her," tears begin to fall out of Camila's eyes again, but they're more controlled. She doesn't have the energy to full out sob again. "She's my little sister and I love her. I can't just forget about her and stop hurting."

"You're not going to forget about her. I'm not saying that you should, because you shouldn't and you won't. But you will stop hurting. You love her and it hurts like hell right now, and it's going to hurt like hell for a while, but time will heal the wound. Whenever you think about her, you're going to be sad. Not so sad that you won't be able to function, though," Lauren soothes her worries. She had always been good at giving advice and comforting her friends when she was a teenager and they went through breakups or hard times. Maybe that's why she became a psychologist. Shame that she's secretly a murderer, though.

"She's dead because of me, Lauren."

"Don't say that."

"No, she is," Camila sits up and scoots away from Lauren. Her eyes are puffy from all the crying. "I was supposed to pick her up from her friend's house the night she went missing but I was out with friends. Our mom didn't want her riding her bike home late at night so she asked me to pick her up but I was... um... not in the best state to be driving. Mom had just broken her ankle so she couldn't drive, and Dad was out of town for business. Sofi had to bike home and that's when she was snatched. It's all my fault, Lauren, don't you see? Every time I replay that night I think about how I was partying while my sister was getting kidnapped and god knows what else. My parents know it too, I can see the look of shame in their eyes when they see me."

"Oh Camila..." Lauren frowns at this piece of new information. No wonder Camila has been beating herself up over it so much. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. You couldn't have known."

Camila glances at the clock. "Hour's up," she gathers the tissues as she stands up, throwing them in the waste basket on her way out.

Lauren sits there helpless as she watches Camila leave. Although she never feels any remorse for any lives she takes, she wants to take away all of the pain this girl is feeling. All she wants is for Camila to be ok.

Half of her expects Camila to revert back to the way she was when she first started therapy: silent, refusing to even make eye contact with Lauren. Camila proves her wrong when she walks into the next session, sits down, and immediately starts word vomiting her feelings. As she lets all of her thoughts and feelings out, she cries, but that is to be expected. The first step to solving any problem is to admit that there is a problem. Now that Camila is directly addressing her emotions instead of avoiding them at any cost, she has truly started the path to getting better.

*****

It amazed Lauren how resilient Camila was. After letting her walls come down and spilling all of her feelings to the psychologist, she began to recover. Lauren witnessed her go through each of the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and then finally, acceptance. She had her good days and her bad days. At the beginning of the recovery, they were mostly bad. Near the end, they became rare, and even on the bad days Camila knew she would be okay.

After a year of therapy and recovery, it soon became clear that Camila no longer required Lauren's services. Perhaps a monthly check-in, but nothing more than that. It felt bittersweet to say goodbye to the girl she had seen twice a week every week for a year. She has come so far—from feeling suicidal and empty to smiling and laughing once more, Lauren has never been more proud of any of her clients. Then again, she may be a little biased, given the feelings that she developed for the younger girl. She swears that Camila felt something back. There was undeniable chemistry between them.

Despite her strong feelings, on the day of their last session as Lauren hugged Camila goodbye, she did not ask for a cell phone number. Against her urges, she did not suggest that the two of them meet up outside of her office. The sister of Sofi Cabello was gone, never to be seen again outside of a potential television interview.

Or so Lauren thought.

A few months later, Lauren's best friend from childhood, Alexa, returns to Miami for the weekend. She lives in California but wanted to visit one of her closest friends. Tonight, after a day on the beach, they head to the most popular gay bar in the city.

Two mixed drinks and three shots later, Lauren is significantly intoxicated. Not enough to get sick, but enough to make questionable decisions. Her love life hasn't been very active. Her last relationship was when she was in grad school, and it ended so bitterly that she has strayed away from serious relationships. Every so often she sleeps around, looking for one night stands and casual, meaningless sex. This is one of those nights.

She's naturally a sexy and charming girl, but the alcohol intensifies her flirtatious tendencies even more. She hits on every attractive girl she lays eyes upon, making out with a few. None of them have the bedroom quality she is looking for, though.

"One more shot of Malibu please," Lauren leans against the bar, shouting above the loud bass of the music to the bartender. He pours a shot and slides it to her.

"Lauren?" a familiar voice speaks up to her left. Turning her head, she's shocked to see her former client, Camila.

For their sessions, she would never dress up at all. Most of the time she would show up in a hoodie and sweats as if she just rolled out of bed. It was therapy, she knew she didn't need to make any effort to look good. Nonetheless, Lauren still thought she was beautiful, even in clothes like that. Tonight just proves her point even further.

Camila is dressed in a short white long-sleeved dress, fitted to show off the best parts of her body. Specifically her ass. Holy shit, that ass. Her hair falls in light waves down to her waist, and she wears light makeup on her face.

"Camila!" Lauren throws her arms around the shorter girl, embracing her tightly. "I've missed seeing you every week! Holy shit, how are you? You look fucking great. Let me buy you a drink."

"That's alright, I'm done drinking for the night," Camila smiles graciously. "Thank you though. And I'm glad to see you too, I'm doing really well."

Before she forgets about the shot she ordered, Lauren downs it, coughing from the overwhelming taste of coconut in the beverage. That would have tasted better mixed with something. "Good. You deserve everything. The stars and the moon. Fuck psychology, I'm going to become an astronaut so I can bring you the moon," she drunkenly rambles.

"You're drunk," Camila giggles.

"And you're beautiful," Lauren responds, smooth as fuck. At least, in her mind she is. "Want to dance?"

"Why the hell not?" Camila accepts her former therapist's offer, taking her hand as she leads her onto the dance floor in the middle of all the sweaty bodies.

This is Miami's most popular gay bar for a reason. One of those being, the music isn't completely shitty. While Lauren's dancing is a little sloppy due to her intoxication, Camila is only buzzed. It lowers her inhibitions and allows her to show off her stripper moves that she would practice at home where no one could see her.

"Holy shit Camz, you can really fuck shit up," Lauren raises her eyebrows and compliments her as the song finishes. "In the good way! All the good ways. You're nothing but good, baby."

"Camz... I like that," Camila ponders over the nickname Lauren gave her for a moment. "Most people call me Mila."

"Then I will call you Camz," Lauren leans in closer to tell Camila something without having to shout it over the music. "Camz, babe, can I confess something?"

"Yeah of course, what is it?"

What if Lauren just said "Surprise, I killed your sister!" right now in the middle of this club? How would Camila react? She giggles at the ridiculous thought of her confessing that monster of a secret right now. No, that's not what she wanted to confess at all. Not even close. "I've wanted to kiss you since the first day you walked into my office. Your lips are just so... kissable. I want a taste. I want to know if you taste as good as I've been picturing for so long."

It's not too shocking of a confession. Camila could always lowkey tell when Lauren was fantasizing about her. "Do it," she shrugs. "Kiss me."

Once Lauren is encouraged, she goes for it. Cupping Camila's face, she kisses her, sucking her top lip then her bottom. Her tongue traces along the younger girl's mouth, as if to ask for permission to deepen the kiss. When Camila's mouth parts, Lauren locates her tongue with her own, their lips moving together like they are two halves of one whole that have finally found each other. It's like they were born to kiss one another, and every other pair of lips was just practice for this momentous occasion. Lauren has kissed countless girls and boys, but now she can't fathom kissing anyone but Camila.

As soon as the kiss ends, they are both left gasping for air, surprised by how passionate and sensual the kiss became. "Wow," is all Camila can muster up. She fans herself, taking deep breaths to replenish the air she lost from that kiss.

"Tasted even better than I imagined," Lauren licks her lips as if to try to taste any remnants of Camila's mouth. "Fuck. I don't want to do anything except kiss you for hours."

"I'm okay with that," Camila grins, throwing her arms around the taller girl's neck and pulling her closer. Their lips are about to make contact again when the bartender taps Lauren's shoulder.

"What?" Lauren turns to him, feeling more annoyed than someone stuck in traffic during rush hour.

He gestures to the corner where Alexa is puking into a trash can. "Your friend is sick."

Lauren rolls her eyes. "She'll be fine, just get her some water." She turns back to Camila, shutting her eyes and leaning forward to continue where they left off. Confused when her lips never meet Camila's, she's gently pushed away.

"Go help your friend, it's okay," Camila smiles. She's disappointed too, but she doesn't want to force Lauren to abandon her friend.

"Camz, I mean it, she's going to be fine," Lauren insists, growing slightly annoyed with her too.

"I'm not going to kiss you again tonight when your friend is throwing up in the corner," Camila steps away from Lauren. Grabbing a napkin from the bar and a pen, she scribbles her number and hands it to the older girl. "Here's my number. The third number is an 8 by the way, sorry, my handwriting isn't that great. Text me when you get home safe."

"Fine," Lauren sighs. "I'll text you soon." She hugs her goodbye and then heads over to her friend who has just finished puking.

"Why did you let me drink so much," Alexa slurs, leaning on her friend for support.

"You really cockblocked me," Lauren rolls her eyes. "C'mon. I'm gonna get us an Uber and go home."

When the Uber drops the pair off at Lauren's house and Alexa is safely in her guest room asleep, she retrieves the crumpled up napkin that she had placed in her bra for safekeeping. She types in the number to her phone, having to utilize more focus than normal to get the numbers right. There's still a good amount of booze in her system.

Lauren: Hiiii Camz it's Lauren! Got home safe, hope you do too We definitely need to pick up where we left off.

Camila responds pretty quickly.

Camila: Hey yeah I got home safe :) I agree, I'll text you later when we're both sober. Making plans right now probably wouldn't be very productive

The next morning, Lauren wakes up with a killer hangover. The events from last night don't even cross her mind, all she can think about is relieving the pain with an Advil. She stumbles to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and hastily swallowing a couple of the painkillers. On her way back to the bedroom, she checks in on her friend.

"You doing alright?" Lauren asks, peeking in to the guest room. Alexa lays in the bed, covers up to her neck and scrolling on her phone.

"Better than you apparently," Alexa laughs as she glances up at Lauren who looks so fucking out of it.

"Yeah, because you puked it all up last night," Lauren sighs.

"Sorry you didn't get to go home with that girl you were all up on last night. She was cute."

The moment Alexa says that, the drunken memories from last night at the club rush back into Lauren's head. Oh yeah, FUCK, she ran into Camila at the bar and made out with her.

Lauren's eyes widen and she becomes flustered. "O-Oh yeah, that happened," she mutters sheepishly, returning to her bedroom before Alexa can make another comment. Checking her phone, her terror is washed away by relief when she sees that her texts to Camila last night weren't TOO embarrassing. All is not lost.

Lauren: Holy shit. I'm sorry about last night haha I was very drunk and I apologize

Camila: There's nothing to be sorry for Lauren. I don't regret anything and I hope you don't either. You aren't my therapist anymore- you're my friend. I still want to pick up where we left off if you're on the same page as me

Lauren: Okk I was just worried about overstepping some boundaries but I'm glad I didn't! We're definitely on the same page. I have to drop my friend off at the airport at 5 but I'd love to take you for sushi afterward? Say, 5:45?

Camila: It's a date :))))

Lauren: Perfect. I'll pick you up, send me your address.

"Hey I'm going to make an omelet, do you want one?" Alexa's offer startles Lauren. She caught her blushing at her phone in bed. "Someone's happy. Who are you texting? Oooooooh, is it that girl from last night?"

"Fuck off," Lauren rolls her eyes, but can't stop smiling. "Yeah, I'm down for an omelette, thanks dude."

"Mmm, get it Jauregui," Alexa smirks, moving out of the way right as Lauren attempts to chuck a sock at her.

After a delicious breakfast and a lot of teasing and questions from Alexa about Camila, Lauren finally says goodbye and drops her friend off at the airport. She makes a brief stop at her house to gussy up, and then drives over to the address that Camila sent her.

On the way to her date's house, she recognizes the neighborhood. The last time she drove through it was a little over a year ago at night, when she kidnapped and murdered Sofi. It's pretty fucked up but she still harbors no regrets regarding her actions. In fact, she's thankful for what she did. If she hadn't killed Sofi, she wouldn't have met Camila and fallen for her. Fate can be confusing at times but Lauren's unusual choice of a victim that night happened for a reason.

Pulling up into the driveway, Lauren also recognizes the house. The Cabello's were interviewed by several local news stations outside of it, and also hosted a fundraiser event here. It's a small, modest house—two stories tall with a small backyard and pool area. Camila is 24 years old and would probably be living on her own in an apartment if it hadn't been for the incident.

Camila exits her house, locking the door behind her and approaches Lauren's car with a jump in her step, clearly happy to see her. She wears a white cropped tank top and black high-waisted skinny jeans. This is the first time Lauren has seen her wearing a top that doesn't cover her arms. She can vaguely spot a couple scars on her wrists from a glance, and makes sure not to stare at them ever again.

"Hey Camz," Lauren grins as Camila takes a seat in the car, buckling her seatbelt.

"You remembered the nickname, impressive," Camila comments. "You were pretty drunk, I wasn't sure how much you were going to remember."

"You don't give me enough credit. I'd never forget," Lauren says with a smug smirk as she backs out of the driveway, heading toward her favorite sushi restaurant in Miami. "Do you like sushi? If not we can go somewhere else, it really doesn't matter to me."

"Sushi is great," Camila assures her. "Trust me, I am not picky. Put any unknown food items in front me when I'm hungry and I guarantee that I'll eat it without any second thought."

"Okay, great," Lauren breathes a sigh of relief. It's been a while since she has been on a real date with someone, she was afraid that she forgot how to do this thing. "Next time you can pick."

"Already anticipating a next time, huh? Someone's getting a little too cocky," Camila teases her.

"I-I mean only if you want to. No pressure. Like if you aren't—"

"I was just teasing you!" Camila punches Lauren's arm playfully, making her swerve slightly off the road. "Shit, I probably should not punch the person who is driving a huge metal block that could easily kill us both in an instant."

"You're fucking cute, you know that?" Lauren swoons, turning briefly to look at her date. Whether she is in sweats, a dress, or casual clothes like this, she is absolutely stunning. Lauren could stare at her for hours.

It's Camila's turn to blush. "I think you give me too much credit," she mumbles. In high school, she was the girl that no one knew. She kept to herself, ate lunch by herself, and never went to prom. When she went off to college, she shed the shy, awkward Karla and vowed to become more confident. And that is exactly what she did. Karla evolved to Camila, and all the boys loved her. Plus a lot of girls. A lot of the confidence was a "fake it until you make it" sort of situation. Her self-confidence issues have improved a lot since high school, but sometimes she still struggles. Like right now, with someone as gorgeous as Lauren constantly giving her compliments, she believes it is too good to be true.

With a scoff, Lauren shakes her head. "Definitely not. Have you seen yourself, Camz? Fucking adorable," she smiles. They pull into the parking lot of the sushi restaurant and head inside.

The date goes well. Really well. It's not like they're strangers—for an entire year, they saw each other every single week. This is just getting to know each other on a more personal basis. By the time they finish eating, they feel much more comfortable with one another. It's as if they hadn't met in therapy, and had been friends all along. Camila would never suspect the girl sitting across from her of murdering anyone. Not a fly, not ever her baby sister.

They only spent about 45 minutes eating and neither of them want to say goodbye to the other just yet.

"I know a really pretty place overlooking the beach that not many people know of. I go there a lot myself and I'd love to show you it," Lauren offers as she takes her credit card from the waitress after paying. She picks up both of their checks, knowing that Camila's financial situation is a bit tight and doesn't allow the girl to protest.

"That would be wonderful," Camila grins. They hop back in Lauren's car and drive to the spot.

It isn't far from Lauren's house. She discovered it on a walk one day and fell in love with the incredible scenery and view. It's a small hill behind a couple houses but not technically on any private property. As she told Camila, it has a perfect view of the ocean. They take a seat in the grass, Camila gazing at the view and Lauren gazing at Camila.

"You weren't lying. This is extraordinary," Camila retrieves her phone, snapping a couple pictures of the sunset. When the sky is that pretty, it's an obligation.

As Lauren watches Camila take several photos with her phone, she contemplates whether or not to make a move. She made a move last night, but she was drunk and so was Camila. This is the first date, would that be moving too fast? In her past experiences with dates, she wouldn't hesitate to kiss them or even have sex with them. For whatever reason, she's being extra careful with Camila. She doesn't want to blow this and scare her away.

Camila interrupts Lauren's contemplations. "Trying to decide whether you're going to kiss me again?"

Lauren averts her stare to the grass, scratching her neck and laughing nervously. This is so stupid, why is this girl her weakness? She's usually so confident. She's the one who normally dominates the relationship, and now she's fumbling over her words because of this small girl. As she responds with incoherent broken sentences and embarrassed mumbles, Camila sets her phone down, scooting closer to the older girl and removing all space between them. Lauren's nervous rambling is quieted by Camila's lips on hers, a repeat of last night.

She's sober this time though. The memories from the past night are hazy at best, but this will be etched clear in her mind for life. The feeling of Camila's soft lips moving against her own, the younger girl's teeth nibbling playfully on Lauren's bottom lip. Camila can sense the other girl's lips curling up into a smile as the kiss deepens.

Camila pulls away from the kiss right as Lauren leans in further. "Why did you stop?" Lauren opens her eyes, pouting slightly. She reaches out and slowly brushes Camila's bottom lip with her thumb. "I never want to stop kissing you."

"We'll never get anything done," Camila laughs, laying down in the grass staring up into the sky whose hue has become a dark purple.

"Fuck productivity," Lauren lays down beside her. Her hand locates the younger girl's and interlaces with it. They lay in the grass, talking about everything and nothing until any light in the sky is completely replaced by the stars.

The moon is full that night. Camila points to it. "The moon is so big tonight. Do you remember telling me that you'd become an astronaut just so you can give me the moon?"

Lauren blushes at the mention of her embarrassing drunken monologues. "Now that you bring it up, yeah. It's my favorite thing about the sky."

"Really? Even above the stars and the sun?" Camila inquires.

"Yeah, I don't really know why. It has a lot of fascinating qualities. Maybe because it's always there but in different versions. It can be bright and the biggest thing in the sky, or barely visible. It's very humanlike. Constantly waxing and waning, but it's beautiful in all of its many forms. And every person, just like the moon, has their dark side. Maybe because it'll outshine even the brightest stars," Lauren shrugs casually.

"Seems like you've thought this over a lot," the younger girl is intrigued by Lauren's mind. She'd listen to her talk about the moon for hours. "I've always been more of a sun person. Even on the hardest and longest days and night, you can't deny that the sun will rise the next day. Just like you told me... life goes on. The sun will come up again and it'll be a new day. A new chance. However you have successfully nudged me toward being more of a moon person."

"I don't know Camz, you've got some pretty damn good reasoning for being a sun person," Lauren turns to her with a smile. They lay there for a few more moments before Camila sits up.

"I think I should probably get back home. I told my mom I was just going out for some sushi, I don't want her getting worried," Camila stands up, brushing the grass and dirt off of her pants. It would be unusual for any 24 year old to be constantly monitored by their parents. It's understandable given the Cabello family's circumstances, though.

When Lauren pulls up to Camila's house, they share a quick kiss in the car goodbye and she watches to make sure that the younger girl makes it into her house safely. Driving away, Lauren affirms in her mind that she would be content never killing anyone again as long as she gets to be with her.

*****

Their relationship skyrocketed from there. On the third date, it became clear that Lauren and Camila were girlfriends. Lauren would go to bed each night dreaming of the other girl. Camila occupied every corner of her mind—she has never felt like this with any past girlfriends or boyfriends before. Compared to this, they were simply practice for the big thing. The real thing. It feels as if the universe had been rearranging itself in order for them to collide, and now that the collision has occurred, everything is how it is supposed to be.

The furthest they have gone is making out. They kiss for hours upon hours and spend quite a bit of time cuddling, but nothing more than that. Camila has expressed how she wants to take it slow, and Lauren respects this. Sometimes she gets rather sexually frustrated, but she can always take care of it herself. She's willing to make sacrifices to ensure her girlfriend's happiness.

Five months into the relationship, Camila wants to finally introduce Lauren to her parents. When they hang out, they go to various places in the city, the hill overlooking the beach, or to Lauren's house. Never to Camila's—she's been a little scared about how her parents will react. They are aware of the relationship, but Camila is scared that they won't approve when they meet the Cuban girl and force their daughter to stop seeing her. Which is completely irrational, who WOULDN'T like Lauren upon meeting her? Still, Camila is cautious.

Lauren has been to the Cabello residence plenty of times, from dropping off and picking up her girlfriend. She's only ever seen the outside. This will be her first time actually being invited inside. Standing on the doorsteps, she shuffles nervously with a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Tonight, she's dressed in a fitted black dress with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Meeting the parents of a significant other has always been a nerve-racking event for Lauren, whether it be a high school boyfriend or a college girlfriend. This is no different. In fact, the situation is even more unique. She will be facing the parents of the child she murdered. They will unknowingly let the murderer of their daughter to step into their household and eat dinner with them.

Lauren's sadistic desires are still present. They've been with her since middle school and haven't left since. Sometimes, she just wants to make someone suffer. Anyone. But she holds back and resists her urges, no matter how intense her needs become. She's invested in a PS4 and the violent video games that conservative mothers protest against in fear of their children growing up and becoming killers. It's nothing like killing for real, but it's enough for now. She is aware that with Camila as her girlfriend, she will never be able to hurt anyone just for the fun of it again, and she is prepared to make these sacrifices.

Camila's mother answers the door. Behind her, Lauren sees Camila pacing around the kitchen, cleaning up any loose trash. Putting on her most charismatic, likeable grin, she extends her hand to shake the older woman's. "Hi Mrs. Cabello, I'm Lauren! It's so nice to finally meet you, these are for you," she hands her the bouquet of flowers.

"Thank you Lauren, this is very sweet of you," Camila's mother accepts the flowers with a gracious smile. "You can call me Sinu."

Camila's father steps forward, shaking Lauren's hand. She imagines that before Sofi's disappearance, his handshakes would be full of vigor and energy. Now, they are almost weak and passive. "I'm Alejandro," he introduces himself. The last time Lauren saw the two of them was on TV, begging for the return of their daughter with teary eyes. They're not crying, but it's clear that they haven't recovered. They'll never fully recover.

"Come inside," Sinu moves aside, gesturing for Lauren to come in. She removes her shoes at the doorway and walks into the kitchen where Camila is nervously tending to the food.

"Hey Camz," Lauren greets her girlfriend who spins around and embraces her. She's doesn't think it's appropriate to call Camila pet names in front of her parents quite yet. The smell of the food from the kitchen reminds her of how her family's house would always smell. Now that she lives alone, her meals consist of simpler dishes like canned and boxed foods, so this is a throwback to her childhood. Peeking on the stove, she sees the food that the Cabello's have been preparing for her. "It smells delicious in here. Are these empanadas? They look spectacular."

"You sure know how to flatter," Alejandro laughs. "Yes, they are. They should be ready any minute, take a seat."

Lauren and Camila sit down next to each other at the dinner table. As Camila fidgets with her silverware, Lauren slides her hand into her girlfriend's to comfort her. She appears even more nervous than Lauren. Camila's fidgeting calms down, and she squeezes the older girl's hand.

While they wait for the food to be served, Lauren observes the surroundings of the dining room. Family portraits and pictures hang up on the wall: Alejandro and Sinu, school pictures of Camila from her younger years, what Lauren presumes to be Camila's senior pictures, photos of Sofi, and portraits of the entire family.

The only pictures of Sofi that circulated in the media were the most recent school pictures from the yearbook of her. These are from years before. There's a photo of Camila, probably 16 or 17 years old, holding a guitar and singing to a very young Sofi in their backyard. It really humanizes her former victim. Still, no regrets.

The empanadas are served with a side of arroz. Lauren takes a couple for her plate along with a small portion of rice, and waits for the Cabello's to serve themselves before digging in herself. She might be a serial killer, but she has table manners.

"So, Lauren, tell us more about yourself," Alejandro takes the first bite of food, signaling that it is okay for Lauren to start eating herself. The empanadas she used to eat at home were prepared with more of a Cuban style. These are more Mexican, but still tasty nonetheless. "You were mija's therapist if I recall correctly?"

"Yes," Lauren responds, unsure if this is accusatory. Would it be appropriate for a therapist to date their client? Yes, very. But Camila no longer goes to therapy.

Camila also catches on to the potential accusatory undertones of her father's question. "We didn't start seeing each other until three months after I stopped going."

"Not trying to imply anything. I'm sure Lauren is a wonderful therapist," Alejandro smiles at Lauren, yet she still feels his suspicions.

"Tell us about your family," Sinu changes the topic as she bites into her empanada.

"I have a younger sister and brother. Chris is 23 and just graduated from University of Miami, Taylor is 20 and is going to University of Florida," Lauren tells them. "My parents raised us in Miami but when Taylor went away to college, they moved to Palm Beach to retire."

The rest of the night continues like this. Sinu and Alejandro ask questions in order to learn more about their daughter's girlfriend. At times, it feels more like an interrogation or a test than a friendly dinner. The topic of Sofi is never brought up, and Lauren is sure if she even mentioned the name everything would uncontrollably snowball into awkwardness. She answers all of the questions with a polite smile, and at the end of the meal, Camila's parents are satisfied. Perhaps not pleased, but also not disgusted. Of course they would be suspicious of anyone Camila dates. They're probably scared that she will whisk their daughter away in the night and make her disappear, just like their other daughter.

"Thank you so much for the dinner," Lauren thanks Camila's parents before the two of them head upstairs to her room. It feels like she is in high school again, meeting her teenage girlfriend's parents. She half expects Sinu to come up the stairs and force them to keep the door open and give Lauren a time she needs to be out of the house.

The minute they shut the door and it is just the two of them alone again, all of the tension fades. Camila pulls Lauren onto her bed and they diffuse any of the stress caused by the night. "I'm sorry they were badgering you," Camila pants between the quick kisses. "They don't trust anyone with me."

"Shhh, it's ok baby, you don't need to apologize," Lauren moves her kisses to Camila's jaw, and then her neck, eliciting soft moans from the younger girl. As she does this, she wonders if anyone else has touched her girlfriend in this exact spot, feeling slightly jealous even though that is in the past.

"I bought a movie the other day that looks really interesting, do you want to watch it?" Camila pulls away from Lauren's touches to retrieve a DVD sitting on her desk. "You might have heard about it. It's called 'Her', it's about this guy who falls in love with his computer. Apparently it's really good."

"That sounds great, put it in," Lauren smiles at Camila, hiding her frustration about their make out session being interrupted. Throughout the night, whenever she would feel stressed from Sinu and Alejandro's questions, she would look over at her beautiful girlfriend and feel okay. She would want to grab her face and kiss her—fuck her parents. Of course, she knew better than to do that. It's whatever, though. They can kiss later, and if her parents were to walk in on them making out, who knows how they would react?

As Camila crosses the room to insert the DVD into the player, Lauren takes in the surroundings of her girlfriend's room. It appears she has lived in this room since childhood. The walls are pink, and she can imagine posters of boy bands filling the empty spaces during her adolescence. Now, the walls are filled with polaroids and memories. A photo of her and Sofi is framed above the desk. And a selfie of her and Lauren sits in a frame on her desk. It's from one of their first dates, when they went to an aquarium.

"I love that photo of us," Lauren comments. Camila follows her eyes to see what picture she is talking about too.

"Me too. That's why I framed it," Camila smiles, hitting play on the DVD, turning off the lights and crawling back onto the bed with her girlfriend. The two of them snuggle close together as the movie starts.

At the beginning, Lauren pays more attention to her girlfriend than the movie. She listens to her breaths, watches her expressions out of the corner of her eye. But soon the movie draws her in too. It's a beautiful, tragic tale of a man falling in love with his OS. Filled with quotes that are funny and quotes that are insightful, this is a movie that leaves you thinking when it's done.

One particular scene sticks out for both of them. It's when the main character and his OS are together in a cabin, singing a song called "The Moon Song." Ever since their first date where they stared up at the moon, it's been a staple of their relationship. A symbol. Camila will always point out the moon, and Lauren will tell her girlfriend how gorgeous she looks in the moonlight and kiss her. One time, as Camila fell asleep outside under the stars, Lauren sketched a sleeping Camila on top of the moon. Sure, it's cheesy as fuck, but they love it. Copying Khal Drogo's quote to Daenerys Targaryen in Game of Thrones, Camila is the moon of Lauren's life. Hearing a song like this will etch this moment and movie into their memories forever.

"I'm lying on the moon
My dear, I'll be there soon
It's a quiet starry place
Time's we're swallowed up
In space we're here a million miles away

There's things I wish I knew
There's no thing I keep from you
It's a dark and shiny place
But with you my dear
I'm safe and we're a million miles away

We're lying on the moon
It's a perfect afternoon
Your shadow follows me all day
Making sure that I'm okay and
We're a million miles away"

As the song plays, Lauren pulls Camila closer to her, kissing her gently on the lips. It doesn't progress farther than that one kiss—they both want to listen to the song and the lyrics. But she couldn't resist.

When the song finishes, Lauren kisses Camila once more. "Learn this song so we can duet it, babe," she whispers into her ear.

"Of course," Camila responds, stroking her girlfriend's hair.

The ending of the movie fucks them up. Camila is the one to start crying first, and that sets Lauren off. Soon they're messes, sobbing into each other's bodies. It takes about twenty minutes after the credits roll for the two off them to compose themselves.

"I swear that IMDB said it was a comedy," Camila wipes her tears away, handing Lauren a tissue to do the same.

"Comedy my fucking ass. That shit hurt," Lauren sighs. They lay on the bed in the darkness and silence for a bit, simply enjoying each other's company.

"Do you believe in fate?" Camila asks out of nowhere.

"I believe that things happen for a reason. But I also believe that fate is fluid. We make our own decisions and control our own destinies. If that makes sense," Lauren responds. "What about you?"

"Do you think we would have met if Sofi hadn't..." Camila doesn't really answer Lauren's question, instead posing her with a more difficult one. One that Lauren has always had a very strong answer to, but knows that she can't give her that answer without upsetting her.

"I.. I don't know, Camz. There's no way to know for sure. Maybe we would have run into each other regardless, maybe not. But we're here now and we can't worry ourselves about how the past unfolded or how the future is going to unfold, you know?" Lauren bullshits a response.

"You're the best part of my life, Lauren. I know dependency is a bad thing but I honestly cannot imagine where I would be right now without you. Ever since I met you, even on that first day of therapy where I wouldn't say more than ten words to you, you had this comforting presence. You made me laugh and feel human for the first time since Sofi disappeared. I began to look forward to Tuesdays and Fridays because I would be like, okay, these are the days I will be okay. For an hour on those days, I'm going to heal, thanks to Lauren," Camila spills her feelings.

"It wasn't me though, babe. It was you. Only you can make your own steps to recovery. I was just there to help you along the way," Lauren shrugs.

"And I wouldn't have made it without you. Sometimes at night I can't sleep because all I can think about is, would I have met you if Sofi hadn't disappeared? What if I hadn't been drinking that night, what if I had gone and picked Sofi up and she would still be here with me today? You wouldn't be here. If I could go back in time and do that night over again, there are so many things I would change but I know that I'd return to the present and you would be gone. Then I give myself imaginary ultimatums. Get Sofi back, but never meet Lauren again. And of course I would choose my little sister in a heartbeat. If things do happen for a reason, I don't think that taking my baby sister away from me was reason enough for me to meet someone as incredible as you. This rant is making me sound insane isn't it?" Camila sighs, realizing that she probably isn't making any sense. "The only way I can get to sleep at night is that maybe fate is real and we were always destined to meet, regardless of what happened to Sofi. If she was never taken on that night, maybe I would meet you at the grocery store, or at the club like we did that one night. I've started to really believe it, too."

"I hope, in any alternate reality, we are together," is the only way Lauren can think to respond to Camila's musings, a little confused about the point she is trying to get across.

Camila can sense her confusion. She is a little lost herself. "What I'm trying to say is that I love you and that I'm glad you're here. I don't think the universe is cruel enough to present me with an ultimatum like that, and I think that we were always fated to meet no matter the choices we made in life."

That's the first time either of them have said it out loud. I love you. Both of them have had it on their minds for a long time. This is just the first time that either of them have vocalized it. Lauren's confused frown turns into a smile. "I love you too, Camz."

Camila climbs on top of Lauren, closing the distance between of them and meeting their lips together. Neither of them will ever get tired of kissing the other. Tonight, Camila wants to take it all the way. She lifts her shirt over her head and tosses it across the room as Lauren ogles at her girlfriend's body. The younger girl wears only a white lace bra, and she watches as she awkwardly pulls her skinny jeans off her legs. There's no way anyone can step out of skinny jeans in a sexy manner.

"Wait, babe, what about your parents?" Lauren frowns. "We can go to my house..."

"No, I need you now," Camila successfully finishes removing her pants, then begins to work on taking Lauren's dress off of her body. "We just need to be quiet. They're downstairs, they'll never hear."

"Are you sure?" Lauren aids Camila in undressing her. The two of them are now only in their lingerie. In contrast to her girlfriend's lingerie, Lauren's is black lace. Camila doesn't respond, as she is too busy appreciating her girlfriend's body.

"Yes, I'm sure," Camila gives her a firm nod, straddling her waist and leaning down to kiss her. "You've given me so much. I want to give you this."

"I don't want this to feel like an obligation, Camz," Lauren moans as Camila trails her kisses down from her mouth to her breasts that are freed when her bra is unhooked in one swift motion.

"It's not an obligation at all," Camila slides Lauren's panties off of her legs. She now lays completely naked under Camila. "Now shut up and let me make you cum."

From Camila's slightly reserved demeanor, no one would ever guess how much of a fucking top she is. This girl knows what she's doing. The female body is no unfamiliar territory for her. She takes her time with the foreplay to get Lauren wet—she kisses her breasts, sucking each of her nipples until they are swollen. Her touches are slow and teasing. By the time she is down to the older girl's legs and kissing her inner thighs, she can already smell the wetness.

She could rush this. She could thrust three fingers into Lauren's pussy and rub her clit until she cums all over the bed and get it over pretty fast. That isn't how she imagined her first time with this special girl, though. With every kiss and motion, she goes slow. There is no need to rush this, she wants to savor the moment. Make this extra special for the both of them. If they wanted a quick orgasm, they could do themselves. Sex isn't masturbating with each other's body. The point of sex is to pleasure the other, give them the full experience. So that is exactly what Camila is doing.

Lauren wants to be fucked so badly. She squirms under Camila's touch—she swears that the younger girl has been teasing her with kisses for a half hour already. When her girlfriend finally reaches her legs, she kisses her way back up to her mouth and starts the process all over again. If her goal was to make Lauren horny as fuck, it's working. She's horny enough to fuck anything that breathes right now.

"Camz... please... touch me," Lauren begs, her raspy voice cracking with neediness. "I need you..."

"What do you want me to do?" Camila smirks. Maybe it's a little mean to tease her THIS much, but she's reveling in the moment.

"Fuck me... please..."

"Well, since you asked nicely," Camila inserts a finger into her center. It's so soaking that it could easily slip right out. "Damn, Lauren, you're wet."

Maybe one finger would be okay if Camila had man hands and huge fingers. But unfortunately her hands are smaller than Lauren's as well as her fingers. Her finger is thinner than a tampon and this only teases the older girl harder. "More, please baby," Lauren continues to beg. She's never begged for anyone like this before. Camila's effect on her is like none other.

The younger girl inserts another finger. Her middle and ring fingers curl up into Lauren's soaking wet center in a "come hither" motion, hitting her g-spot. Lauren bucks her hips and moans loudly, a little too loudly. Camila slaps her hand over her girlfriend's mouth, stifling her moans with her palm.

"Shhhhhh, you don't want my parents to walk in," Camila whispers softly to her as she continues to thrust her fingers inside of her. "You have to be quiet, understand?"

She only removes her hand when Lauren weakly nods. Despite her agreement to be quiet, quiet whimpers still slip out of her lips. She can't control them.

Camila kisses her way down to Lauren's legs and spreads them. As she continues to use one hand to pleasure her girlfriend's core, she uses the other to play with her clit that is very aroused. With her thumb, she applies light pressure to the small thing. This is how she learns how sensitive Lauren's clit is. From that small motion, Lauren moans loud enough that it's possible her parents heard from downstairs.

"This won't do," Camila shakes her head with a sigh. She retreats her hand and Lauren is afraid that they're going to stop there. They can't stop there, Camila has her wrapped around her finger.

"Wait, no, I'll be quiet I swear to god," Lauren sits up and pouts as she watches Camila rummaging through her closet. A minute later, Camila turns around, holding a bandana.

"Yeah, you will be quiet," Camila returns to the bed, tying the bandana lightly around her mouth to use as a makeshift gag. Now any sound she makes will be easily stifled. Spreading Lauren's legs again, Camila continues where she left out.

With her tongue, she applies more light pressure onto her clit while thrusting her fingers into her. The more pressure, the more Lauren moans from under the bandana gag, and the more her legs quiver with pleasure.

Camila begins to trace the alphabet using her tongue on Lauren's clit. It's one of her little tricks that has never failed to make a girl finish. From under the gag, Lauren moans what Camila presumes to be curse words and maybe her name.

Occasionally Camila likes to look up from her spot between her girlfriend's legs, and the sight is beautiful. Lauren watches her going down with a needy, desperate look in her eyes. She begins to move her tongue faster and harder, and in response hears the older girl's breathing become quicker and shallower. She must be close.

"Are you close, baby?" Camila glances up to see Lauren nodding, begging for her to finish her off. Without any mercy, she resumes her tongue's contact with her girlfriend's clit, licking as fast and hard as she was before she stopped.

Thank god for the bandana. Lauren practically screams from under it as her hips buck and cum fills her girlfriend's mouth. Her eyes roll back with pleasure. She swears she hasn't climaxed this hard in years, not even on her own. Camila watches with amusement as Lauren grips the sheets and nearly tears them off of the bed. As she comes down from her orgasm, the younger girl removes the bandana that successfully stifled all of her screams.

"I... Holy.. shit.." Lauren whispers, her voice even more raspy than usual from all the moaning. Her head is light, the room is spinning, her entire body tingles, and she can't form a coherent sentence or thought to save her life. "You... oh my god..."

Wiping her mouth off to clean away the fluids from her girlfriend, Camila gathers the clothes that are strewn around the room. After dressing herself, she folds Lauren's clothes neatly beside her as she comes down from her high.

Lauren eyes her clothing, confused as to why she is being ushered out. That orgasm was fucking spectacular, and now she needs to give Camila one of equal value. All she wants to do is fuck all night and all day. She's never had a sexual partner who shares as much chemistry with her as the Cabello girl. "It's your turn, Camz," she frowns, pushing the clothes away from her.

"To be continued.. It's a miracle my parents didn't come upstairs yet to check on us or kick you out. It'd be best to avoid any awkward experiences with them to make them dislike you," Camila flicks the light switch by the door. In the dark, her girlfriend's body was amazing. Now that it's in clear light, it's even more wondrous. It's a shame to not be able to indulge in more of life's pleasantries right now, like Lauren Jauregui's fine as hell body, but Camila figures they'll have plenty of time for that later.

Knowing that protesting will get her nowhere, with a resigned sigh, Lauren dresses herself in the underwear and clothing she had been previously wearing. Although she was unable to return the favor, this is a big step for their relationship.

"Tomorrow?" Lauren raises her eyebrows with a hopeful grin.

"Tomorrow," Camila confirms. She walks the girl out to her car, giving her a quick kiss goodnight and watching her drive away.

*****

"I think this is the last one," Camila sets a box on top of a short pile in Lauren's living room. They have been together for just about a year now, and Lauren asked her to move in. This means it's serious. Sinu and Alejandro were hesitant at first, but after the first dinner with Lauren, they grew to like her more. It's not like she's moving across the state or across the country. They knew they couldn't hold on to their daughter forever. It was time to let her go live her own life.

"Are you sure you have everything? Clothes, toiletries, things from your room...." Sinu inspects the stack of boxes.

"Yes," Camila assures her. "I'm only a twenty minute drive away, Mom. We can still visit whenever you want."

"I know that, mija," Sinu pulls her daughter into a tight embrace. "It's just hard as a mother. You'll know one day."

Alejandro hugs Camila goodbye next. It really shouldn't be a big deal though, she's right across the city. "Call us if you ever need anything, ok mija?"

"Of course, I love you papi," she sighs.

Her parents turn to Lauren, who stands at the doorway watching the exchange. "Take good care of our Camila," Alejandro tells her.

"She is safe with me," Lauren walks over to her girlfriend, taking her by the hand and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Hugging both of the Cabello parents goodbye, she watches with Camila out the window as they pull out of the driveway. Turning to the shorter girl, she smirks. "Just you and me now."

"Shall we have a little... housewarming celebration?" Camila suggests.

Arching an eyebrow, Lauren responds, "What do you have in mind?"

Camila stands on her toes to whisper into her girlfriend and new roommate's ear. "Let's fuck. In every room."

And so they do. Lauren eats Camila out on the kitchen counter. Camila fingers Lauren on the sofa in the living room. The dining room, the guest room, and the office space upstairs. They take turns until they finally collapse, exhausted on Lauren's bed about five hours later.

"Holy. Shit," Lauren pants. Both of them are naked and covered in sweat. She swears she won't be able to walk for at least a week after this.

"We aren't done yet babe," Camila rolls on top of Lauren, the two of them kissing lazily on top of the messy bed.

Lauren mentally runs through all of the rooms in her house. Their house. After going through the list two times, she furrows her eyebrows. "We hit all of them, Camz. From the bottom up."

"Don't you have a basement?"

Oh yeah. Shit. A while ago, Lauren vaguely mentioned having a basement. It's amazing that Camila remember that. Except not really surprising—Camila remembers everything, even small details like that. As far as Lauren is concerned, even if they live in this house until they are 90 with great-grandchildren, Camila will never EVER step foot in the basement. That is where she carried out all of her murders. That is where Sofi took her last breath. Lauren herself hasn't even been down there since killing the younger Cabello. Her collection of knives reside there, along with the bloody table that she never bothers to clean. The whole room reeks of death.

It's such a hazard for guests to stumble upon that Lauren took it upon herself to learn how to customize a door to lock from the outside. It was a month long project, but finally she rendered the basement unreachable without a key kept in a place only she knows.

"Ohh yeah, that shit is nasty though. Like, I'm 99% sure that if we went down there we'd get some type of bacterial disease and die. I haven't gone down there since I first moved into this house and vowed to never step down there again," Lauren shudders. She's always been a good liar.

Camila doesn't question her story. "Shame. Maybe we can get someone to fix that up one day," she gives Lauren one more kiss before rolling off of her.

"Maybe," Lauren says with a false tone of hopefulness. If she has to buy a new house to prevent Camila from ever discovering what is down there, so be it.

But for now, she isn't worried about the basement. Camila changes the topic and they chat before drifting off to sleep, exhaustion taking over their bodies from all the vigorous sex.

*****

CRASH.

The sound of a metal pot clattering onto the floor from the kitchen is loud enough to wake both Camila and Lauren from their slumber. Glancing over at the clock, it read 3:30 AM. They don't have a pet. They didn't leave any windows open.

"Nnnn.... did you hear that?" Lauren asks groggily, blinking the sleepiness out of her eyes. It's too early in the morning for this. Or late at night.

"Yeah..." Camila sits up, rubbing her eyes.

BAM. Another crash. Loud footsteps alert them that this isn't their imagination, and it certainly isn't a nightmare.

"Fuck, someone's here," Lauren jumps out of the bed, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She's wide awake now. "Someone broke in. Camz, you have to hide."

Camila is attempting to open their bedroom window to no avail. "No, we have to run, call the police and run," she struggles with lifting it, cursing under her breath. "Fuck, fuck, why won't this open?!"

"If you jump you're going to break something. I took a martial arts class in college, just hide in the closet or something," Lauren instructs her. She used to sleep with a knife under her pillow out of the paranoia of something like this happening. When Camila moved in a month ago, that was no longer a good idea. She moved the knife to a drawer in the guest room down the hall.

"No, Lauren, just call the police, please," Camila begs, tugging on her girlfriend's arm. She's terrified of losing her.

"JUST FUCKING DO WHAT I SAY," Lauren yells at Camila, pushing her off of her arm. Now Camila is not only scared about the intruder downstairs, but also of her girlfriend. They get in the occasional arguments, but nothing ever too serious. It always ends with them laughing about what they were fighting about. Or make-up sex. This is the first time that she has ever witnessed Lauren so angry with her.

She doesn't do well with people yelling at her. She never has. When she was a kid and her parents would yell at her, she would shut down and stop arguing. This isn't any exception. Camila blinks tears out of her eyes, rushing into the nearby closet and closing it. Lauren sighs, making a mental note to apologize to her girlfriend about her outburst.

The intruder probably heard their arguing and scampering around upstairs. There isn't much time before they make their way up the stairs to investigate. Odds are, they're armed. Whether with a gun or a knife, no one breaks into a house unarmed. Lauren sneaks over to the guest room, retrieving the knife she used to sleep with for security.

Clutching it so hard that her knuckles turn white, Lauren creeps down the stairs with caution. She peeks around the corner to spot the perpetrator rummaging through the cabinets in the living room for valuables. It's a male. He wears a black hoodie, black pants, black gloves, and black shoes, as if he is trying to be like A from Pretty Little Liars. In one of his hands, he holds a pistol. A knife versus a pistol. Unless she's extra fast, the odds are not in her favor. She's never tried throwing knives, and if she were to throw and miss, that would also be a one way ticket to death.

Lauren takes quiet steps until she is about ten feet away from the man. That's when she accidentally steps on a creaky floorboard, alerting him of her presence.

He turns around rapidly, gun aimed at her head, finger over the trigger. "Drop the knife! Drop the fucking knife or I'll shoot!"

God, he's ugly. Brown hair, small eyes, big lips, looks like a Dorito. Disgusting.

"You're going to fucking shoot even if I drop the knife," Lauren protests. Fuck, Camila was right. She should have hid with her, or jumped out of the window and fled. She didn't even call the fucking police! What kind of genius plan was this?

"I'm giving you to the count of three. One..."

"The neighbors are going to hear the gunshot and catch you. Put the gun away and leave and I won't call the cops," Lauren attempts to reason with him.

"Bullshit. Two..."

His grip tightens on the pistol and she knows it's now or never. Lunge for him and get shot, or stay still and get shot. Drop the knife, probably still get shot. Option A is looking the brightest. All of her muscles in her body prepare for the attack, the scene playing out in slow motion.

"Lauren, get him!!!" Camila's voice yells from the back of the room. She must have decided against hiding and wanted to help take down the intruder.

It's enough to distract him so if he takes a shot, it probably won't be fatal. Lauren pounces at the man with her knife, penetrating his stomach with the blade. At the same time, the deafening crack of a gunshot causes everyone's ears in the room to ring. Camila screams her lungs out. It's like a scene straight out of a dramatic TV show.

Blood splatters on the floor and it's a blur. Camila can't tell which blood is coming from what body. But in the end of the whole mess, Lauren is the one who is standing and the intruder is the one who lays on the floor, motionless. The gun drops out of his hand.

She notices a dark red circle growing and staining Lauren's right shoulder area. Fuck, the bullet hit her for sure. It doesn't look like a fatal spot.

"LAUREN, OH MY GOD," Camila screams for her girlfriend as soon as it processes in her head that she was shot. Lauren doesn't hear her. She kneels over the man's incapacitated body, stabbing his chest, stomach, and neck over and over again with the knife. His blood squirts everywhere, sickening groans and gargling noises coming from his throat. "Lauren, stop, he's dead!"

Lauren drives the knife into his eye socket, twisting it and then letting the handle go. She stands up slowly, her left hand clutching the spot on her shoulder where the bullet entered. Turning to face Camila, this is an image the younger girl will never forget.

She's covered in blood. Blood on her face, blood on her t-shirt, and blood on her legs. Camila is positive that it's a mixture of both her own blood and his. But mostly his. The features of her face are barely distinguishable through all of the blood, except her green eyes. Those will always stick out.

But the most disturbing part? She was smiling when she stood up. Not a weak smile, a sheepish smile, or a smile of someone who thinks they're about to die because they just got shot. This was a triumphant smile. A smile of someone who is happy about what just happened. Some might call it a serial killer smile.

It sends shivers up Camila's spine.

Lauren is lost in the moment. For those few minutes, she forgets that she is supposed to be Lauren Jauregui, innocent girlfriend who could never hurt anyone. Not Lauren Jauregui, psychotic sadistic serial killer who gets off on people suffering at her hands. It's been too long since she's had a high like this.

When she witnesses Camila's horrified expression at her, she comes back to reality. She has to play the innocent girlfriend again.

Warm tears flood her eyes, and Lauren collapses onto her knees, sobbing on the ground. Camila rushes over to her, holding her girlfriend as she weeps on the ground. She called the police before sneaking downstairs. Cops barge into the house, witnessing the sickening scene that has unfolded.

Camila experiences the next hour in a true blur. She remembers fragments. The ambulances arriving. Paramedics shuttling her girlfriend away on one gurney, and the intruder on another. The only difference is that his is covered with a sheet, signifying that he is dead. Cops question her about what happened. She's transported to the police station for further questioning, telling the same story to five different people. Her parents arrive at the police station, hugging their baby girl and asking if she's okay.

Lauren has to undergo emergency surgery for the gunshot wound. It goes without any complications, and the most she will have is a small scar on her shoulder. She has to stay in the hospital for a few days, and Camila sits beside her bed the entire time. Cops enter the room occasionally to ask Lauren questions.

The day following the incident, a sheriff entered their room and reported that the man who broke into their house was someone named Austin Mahone. 25 years old, and has been suspected of multiple break-ins around the city. He's also suspected to be responsible for the death of one family whose house he broke into as well.

For the first week, the image of her girlfriend's twisted smile standing over Austin's dead body haunts her in both her sleep and when she's awake. After a while she pushes it away though. She had just gotten shot, it must have been a weird psychological reaction. Lauren apologizes profusely for yelling at Camila that night, and also for how she kept attacking Austin when he was clearly dead. She said she barely remembers it, the adrenaline from the break-in and the shock from being shot clouded her perception. Camila forgives her, and moves on. It's the only thing they can do.

*****

Three months have passed since the break-in, and it's nothing but a distant memory. The bloodstains in the floor are long gone, the damage is fixed. And now, a diamond ring resides on Camila's finger.

That's right, Lauren proposed. She couldn't imagine living her life with anyone else except Camila. During their one-week vacation to Hawaii, she presented the ring to her on the beach. Camila didn't even hesitate for one second to answer. It was a yes.

Lauren Cabello. Camila Jauregui. They were still deciding on which one to go with. Both sounded lovely. The one thing they agreed on? No hyphenated surnames. No Lauren Cabello-Jauregui...that was never an option and never will be an option for them.

They plan to have their wedding in four months in Miami. It will be medium-sized—not too small, but also not too large that they're inviting meaningless acquaintances. They plan to invite their closest friends from high school and college along with their relatives.

"Hey babe, I'm going to go pick up the wedding invitations. Do you want to come?" Lauren asks, peeking into their bedroom. Camila sits at the desktop with one headphone in, scrolling through Tumblr and Pinterest to find wedding dress ideas.

"Nah, I'm looking for dress ideas," Camila politely declines. It's not like she's never going to see the invitations. In fact, she'll probably see too much of them. Lauren is going to return home with them and when she does, they'll have to prepare the envelopes for every single person they're inviting. Fun.

"Alright well I'll be about 30 minutes or an hour, depending on how busy they are," Lauren walks over to her and gives her a quick peck on the lips.

"See ya soon," Camila smiles at her.

Once Lauren has pulled out of the driveway, Camila shuts her laptop. In a wedding magazine a few weeks ago, she found a dress she found absolutely beautiful and ideal for her. She hid it somewhere in the guest room so Lauren couldn't find it, and wants to take another look at it to compare it to a dress she just found on Pinterest.

Entering the guest room, she searches the shelves of the closet. Her memory must be failing her slightly, she could have sworn that she left it in there somewhere. Failing to find it in there, she moves her search to the bedside table.

Opening the top drawer, she sees the same knife that Lauren used to kill Austin that one night a few months ago. With a shudder, she shuts it. Keeping a knife for protection isn't a bad idea at all—she probably has it hidden in here to avoid any bad memories resurfacing for either of them.

Closing the top drawer quickly, Camila opens the bottom drawer. A small black book is hidden in the back corner. That's strange. Maybe it's a diary? She shouldn't snoop, but curiosity gets the best of her. If it's a literature book that interests her, she'd definitely want to read. If it's Lauren's diary, she'll close it and put it back where it's supposed to be.

When she sees the first page, she's thoroughly confused. It's a list of names. Beside each name is a number and a date. Some of these names are strangely familiar. Racking her brain for where she recognizes them from, she remembers that they are names from the media. Names of people who disappeared and were never found again.

Turning the page, a key falls out of the page onto the floor and she sees a name that makes her feel sick to her stomach. She has an awful feeling what this book is when she reads that name and the date. Below that is another name and date, all too familiar.

"25. Brad Simpson, 04/22/2021
26. James McVey, 06/09/2021
27. Sofia Cabello, 10/28/2021
28. Austin Mahone, 01/03/2024"

October 28, 2021. That's the day Camila replayed in her mind for years. The day that changed her life. The day that her little sister disappeared.

January 3, 2024. That's the day of the break-in. The day Lauren killed that Austin Mahone man.

With sickening nausea expanding in her stomach, Camila takes out her phone and googles a couple of the names. Each of them matches up with the day that they disappeared. And she has a feeling about where this key will lead her.

Camila opens the top drawer, pocketing the knife just in case. Clutching the book in one hand and the key in the other, she proceeds down the stairs and to the door of the dreaded basement Lauren would never let her look in.

Just as she suspects, the key fits perfectly. The knob turns, and for the first time, she descends into the dark basement.

It smells bad, but not like the smell Lauren was describing. It smells like death. Literal death.

Camila uses her phone flashlight to illuminate her the room until she finds a light switch. When she turns the light on and takes in her surroundings, her nausea spikes and she vomits on the floor.

It's exactly what she dreaded. From the moment she saw her sister's name in Lauren's handwriting in Lauren's book, a part of her knew that this was going to be what she would find. After she finishes throwing up, Camila has to lean on the wall for support. The room spins, she feels light headed like she's going to pass out.

It's a fucking torture chamber. In the center of the room is a table, covered in blood stains. Knives sit on a desk across from the table, along with a bandana and some ropes. A plastic tub sits on the other side of the room with a jug labeled "Hydrofluoric Acid" by it. Camila doesn't need any more evidence. Her gut knows the answer no matter how hard she wants to be wrong.

This is where 27 people were brutally murdered. This is where her sister died.

It's surreal. She could never imagine Lauren would ever have the capacity to commit such heinous crimes. Her girlfriend... no, not her girlfriend anymore. Her FIANCEE, Lauren. The girl who didn't want to kill a spider. The girl who works as a therapist to improve people's lives. The girl who helped put her back together at her darkest time in life.

This can't be happening. No. It's just a nightmare. She's going to wake up in Lauren's arms. She's going to go check the drawers in the guest room and find nothing. And one day she'll go downstairs in the basement and puke not because it's a torture chamber, but because it really is fucking musty down there!

It's not a nightmare though. No matter how tight Camila shuts her eyes and prays to wake up from the horrors, it doesn't work.

"Camzzz babe, I'm home with the invitations! They look fucking great, come down here, you have to see them," Lauren calls for Camila. Gripping the book with the list, she walks up the stairs, unsure how she is going to react when she sees Lauren's face.

Lauren stands in the hallway, stomach dropping when she watches the basement door open. Camila's face is emblazoned with anger. Her jaw is clenched, her eyebrows are furrowed, and she looks like she is ready to kill someone. Lauren spots her black book that Camila clenches. Oh fuck.

"I—I can explain, Camz, just... just put that down and we can sit down and talk," Lauren stammers. For the first time in her life, she is the one who is terrified. Not her victims. Not Camila. She is at the disadvantage, and she isn't used to that.

Camila explodes. She hurls the book at Lauren's head, hitting her right above her eyebrow, causing her to flinch in pain. "You have NOTHING to fucking explain, I figured it all out. You. Fucking. Murdered. My. SISTER," she retrieves the knife she pocketed earlier.

Lauren raises her hands, slowly backing away from her angry fiancee. With every step backward she takes, Camila takes two steps forward. She wouldn't really stab her, right? She'll put the knife down and talk it out. She has to.

"Camz, baby, please, listen to yourself. Look at yourself. Set the knife down and I'll explain everything, okay?" Lauren tries negotiating, but with every word she speaks, it only seems to make Camila angrier.

So angry that she starts crying. "I am NOT Camz to you. I am NOT your fucking baby either. You are NOTHING to me," Camila shakes her head, her voice rising.

Taking another step back, Lauren hits a wall. Shit, now she's cornered for real. Camila closes the distance so they are mere inches apart. Just as she expected, Camila doesn't drive the blade through her skin. She simply stares her down with anger, trying to figure out her next move.

It happens in an instant. Balling her left hand into a fist, Camila connects it with Lauren's nose, resulting in a disgusting crack and blood spurting down her face. "FUCKING HELL," Lauren curses, hands covering her likely-broken nose.

"You... I..." Camila struggles with translating her emotions into words. "I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU. I trusted you with EVERYTHING, but from DAY FUCKING ONE it was you. I walked into your office and you KNEW that you killed my fucking sister. You sat there with your fucking fake sympathetic smile. I bet you were so fucking pleased with yourself when you got me to open up. I cried in front of you about Sofi. I spilled EVERYTHING that I couldn't tell anyone else, not even my parents, not even my closest friends. And then... all of those moments together... all of our dates... everything... through EVERY SINGLE MOMENT, you KNEW. YOU. FUCKING. KNEW. Did you get off on the fact that you were dating the sister of an innocent little girl who you KILLED? Or was this just some sick, twisted, drawn out scheme? Make me fall in love with you. Marry me. Then kill me when I least expect it. Oh my god, I fucking KNEW something was off when I saw your twisted little smile after you killed the intruder. You're fucking SICK."

"Camila... I..."

"No, you don't get to fucking speak. I don't even know what to do with you," Camila takes a deep breath, pondering what she should do. If she kills Lauren, she gets off easy. She at least needs some answers first. "Why Sofi. Why my little sister. What did she ever do to you?"

"I... My victims were random. Completely random. It was a wrong place, wrong time sort of thing. If they were alone and I was in... the mood.. I'd grab them. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time that night. It could have been anyone else," Lauren answers. This angers Camila enough to punch her in the nose again, more of the crimson liquid flowing out of her nostrils as she groans in pain.

"You sick fuck. They were PEOPLE that you killed. People with families and friends who wept over their disappearance. Did you ever ONCE feel bad, ever? When you would see the aftermath? When you saw how fucking devastated I was?"

Lauren could lie, but at this point, she feels like she's in too deep. She owes this girl the truth for once. "No, I didn't. I didn't regret anything and I don't regret anything. Watching people suffer was pleasing to me. They're urges I had trouble controlling. But listen to me. My feelings for you? They were real. I wasn't lying when I said that I love you. Camila, I'd still give you the moon, even after all this. You are, always have been, and always will be my everything. Please put the knife down and... and we'll figure this out. You aren't going to hurt me, and I'm not going to hurt you. I love you, Camila."

Clearly at this point, Camila has the upper hand. Lauren is weakened from the blows to the face, is unarmed, and has no intentions of hurting her loved one. At the most, she'll perform simple self-defense maneuvers if she is attacked again, but nothing that will actually harm Camila. Maybe it is a little strange, or perhaps it does make sense; Lauren will effortlessly murder almost thirty innocent random strangers in a heartbeat, but would rather take the chances of dying than harm someone she loves. Someone as special as this girl, who showed her what true love actually is.

All of Camila's muscles urge her to lunge forward and stab her in the face. Slash her throat, physically rip her heart out just as Lauren has done to her emotionally. Or stab her in the stomach, twist the blade until she's almost passed out from the pain, and leave her there to die alone slowly in her house. No matter how much she wants this, no matter how much she wants justice, she just cannot bring herself to go through with it. The two of them glare at each other, breathing heavily, waiting for the other to make the next move.

"Camila?" Lauren prods her to talk, speaking with a gentle and cautious tone herself. Any sudden movements or abruptly raised voices may end with a knife in her chest.

"This doesn't make sense," Camila mutters under her breath, shaking her head. "You're... so sweet... to everyone. To me. To my parents. To your friends. I've seen how you interact with your patients. You care a lot about them and you help them so much. You helped me. But... then you killed so many people. It doesn't add up."

"I don't know how to explain my actions," Lauren frowns. "I stopped killing. I swore to myself I'd never kill again as long as you were with me. I swear to god I'd never hurt you."

With every word Lauren speaks, with every excuse she attempts to make for the irreparable damage that has been done, it only angers Camila more until she can't stand it anymore. She won't kill Lauren. Death would be too generous. A life spent in prison is a more appropriate fate.

She drives the knife into Lauren's right hand, penetrating not only the Cuban girl's flesh but also the surface of the wall. Her hand is now literally pinned to the wall as she screams out in pain. Camila has heard her scream before. But those screams have been out of pleasure in bed. This is more chilling, something that will likely replay in her head while she tosses and turns in bed, trying to fall asleep. How did Lauren do this? How did she invoke pain on another human being, witness their suffering, and live with herself? How did she do that to 28 individuals and enjoy it?

Before Lauren can try to remove the blade from her hand and strike back, Camila punches her on the side of her head a couple times more. It'll cause some nasty bruising and probably a bad headache the next morning, but none of her blows are strong enough to knock her out. Figuring that Lauren is in far too much pain to do much of anything, Camila runs to the kitchen a couple rooms over and grabs a frying pan out of the cupboard.

It's heavy and hard. Camila has only seen this done in movies and TV shows where it isn't actually real and the actors are in no real danger. She doesn't want to KILL the girl with this hit, just incapacitate her so she can call the police. But she doesn't have time to pull out her laptop and google search "How to hit someone on the head with a frying pan without killing them."

As Lauren hears Camila approach, she raises her head to see the tiny girl carrying the frying pan they use to make eggs, grilled cheese sandwiches, and other various meals. Her eyes widen in realization of what is about to happen. "Wait, Camila, no, please," she begs, shaking her head. Her hand is still pinned to the wall, the room spinning from the pain of both the stab wound and her broken nose. For once, SHE is the one at the disadvantage. She is helpless. Silently, she contemplates if this is how it felt to be one of her victims.

Camila lifts the frying pan and shuts her eyes tightly as she smashes it on top of Lauren's head. When the metal makes contact with her skull, a loud clang rings out, similar to if it were dropped on the floor. She expected another scream to escape the murderer's mouth or at least a groan, but all Camila hears is the sound of her body collapsing onto the floor.

She peeks out of her eyelids slowly, a wave of fear washing over her the more she opens her eyes. The scene in front of her is revolting. It looks like the scene of a murder, something you would only see on shows as gory as Breaking Bad or Game of Thrones. Lauren is slumped on the floor against the wall. Her right hand, still pinned to the wall, oozes with blood around the blade of the knife. Now, her broken nose isn't the only source of the dark red fluid—a trail of blood runs down the side of her face, stemming from somewhere on top of her head. That's definitely from the blunt force trauma of the pan. Her eyelids are open just enough to see the whites of her eyes that are rolled back into her head, and her mouth hangs slightly agate.

Hesitantly, Camila sets the frying pan on the floor and kneels in front of Lauren, placing two fingers on the pulse point in her neck. A heartbeat is there. Weak, but steady and present.

The reality of what happened comes crashing upon her. She curls up into a ball on the floor, sobbing into her knees.

Lauren is a murderer.

Lauren killed Sofi.

Camila stabbed Lauren.

Camila knocked Lauren out with a frying pan.

...Camila loved Lauren.

She runs through various scenarios and possibilities in her head that would explain Lauren's uncharacteristic killings. Multiple personality disorder, perhaps. Maybe the other personality was a murderer and that's why Camila would have never seen it coming. She forces herself to stop pondering—there are no excuses for what she did. Lauren lied to her, put on a facade to make her fall in love with her. It's not complicated. It's as simple as that.

Being no expert in medical affairs or how long someone who suffers from a blunt force trauma normally stays unconscious, Camila drags herself off of the floor and to her phone that sits on top of a table. She dials the number that everyone is taught about in kindergarten. This is her second time dialing it—the first was when the man broke into their home.

Their home. Lauren and Camila. This was THEIR home. They lived together, happy.

She can't dwell on it. Not now, at least. The phone rings exactly one time before the operator picks up.

"911, what's your emergency?" the male voice asks.

Her mouth moves, words come out, but they don't sound like her. It doesn't feel like she's speaking. This is all an out of body experience. She doesn't remember what she says—the next few hours feel like she's watching a movie that is stuck on fast forward and skips randomly.

It's all fragments to her. The sound of the police sirens. A team of cops forcing entry on the house, with paramedics behind them.

Lauren's limp, unconscious body being hauled onto a gurney and transported into an ambulance that speeds back to the hospital, sirens blaring. A police officer asking her a series of questions, and her answering them.

She tells them about the book. She tells them about the basement, about Lauren's confession.

She leaves out the part about her loving this monster of a human.

She recalls a paramedic and cop discussing whether she should have a psych consult completed at the hospital, or whether she should be questioned at the station first. The paramedic wins. The next thing she knows, she's in a private room in the emergency wing of the hospital, a psychiatrist asking her questions and examining her.

As soon as the consult is completed, she is transported to the police station. And from there, she'll go through the motions. She will answer their questions, she'll cooperate. She'll tell the truth about Lauren Jauregui, the infamous Miami Butcher, who mysteriously managed to stay under the radar for so long.

But she feels herself slipping back into the bad place again. The same darkness her mind was in after the disappearance of her sister. Maybe even worse.

Who will save her now?

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