The vibrant display of the Portal held Beatrix captivated, drawing her closer to its mesmerising swirls of colour. I watched her, the bottle of shiraz still in my hand, a bittersweet comfort in this surreal moment. I took a moment to inhale the rich aroma of the wine, its peppery tendrils and notes of warming spices and black fruits weaving an almost therapeutic spell around me. I took a slow, contemplative sip, my eyes never leaving Beatrix.

"Don't touch it, Beatrix!" I suddenly found myself yelling, jolted from my wine-induced reverie. In my peripheral vision, I saw her hand inch perilously close to the swirling colours, to a point of no return.

Beatrix spun around, her wine sloshing dangerously in her glass. "I know what I'm doing, Gladys," she retorted with a hint of defiance.

I raised a curious eyebrow. "You do?" I asked.

Hesitating, Beatrix stepped back from the Portal. "I... uh..." she stammered, her confidence faltering.

I regarded her with suspicion, a familiar frustration bubbling inside me. Beatrix always had a way of keeping secrets, of holding back pieces of truth. My thoughts briefly flashed back to Brody and the shocking revelation about his death. Murdered! The word echoed in my head, a grim reminder of the dark secrets that had been kept from me. All this time, Beatrix had known that his death wasn't an accident, and yet she had chosen to remain silent.

The realisation stung, a painful reminder of the complicated layers of our sibling relationship. In that moment, the swirling colours of the Portal seemed like a metaphor for the tangled web of secrets and lies that surrounded us. The wine in my hand felt heavier, its comforting presence overshadowed by the weight of betrayal and unanswered questions. As I sat there, watching Beatrix, I couldn't help but wonder what else she was hiding, what other truths lay concealed behind her guarded expressions.

Luke's sudden reentry into the living room abruptly pulled me out of my contemplative state, my thoughts quickly shifting gears.

"How long did you say you've hired that other small truck for?" he asked me directly, his tone urgent as he stepped into the room.

Choking slightly on my wine, I managed to respond after a few uncomfortable coughs. "Until Sunday," I said, the words coming out in a strained gulp.

Luke didn't pause to discuss further. "We're going to do a truck swap. Move the truck onto the road for me, would you Beatrix?" he directed, already moving towards the front door with a sense of purpose. "I'm going to bring Gladys’ truck back from Clivilius. You'll need to reverse your truck back into the driveway once I have left. Then I'll reverse mine in front. The keys are still in the ignition," he explained in a quick flurry of instructions before stepping out of the house.

"Beatrix, you can't be serious!" I said, lifting myself from the couch and following her to the door.

The truck's engine roared to life outside, its sound piercing through the tension-filled silence of the living room. I let out a frustrated huff, my emotions a tangled mix of apprehension and disbelief. My gaze fell to the bottle of shiraz in my hands, its contents offering a brief escape, however fleeting it might be. I'll only have a couple more sips, I silently promised myself, while reaching for the waiting glass on the kitchen bench.

With a practiced motion, I effortlessly poured the rich, burgundy liquid into the glass, watching as it swirled and mingled with the wine already there. The glass was nearly full, a symbol of my growing need for solace.

As I lifted the glass to my lips, my head snapped up, drawn by the activity outside the kitchen window. From my vantage point at the kitchen bench, I had a clear line of sight through the window and into the driveway. There, amidst the swirling colours of the Portal, a small truck was slowly emerging, its form becoming clearer as it passed through the vibrant gateway.

I could sense that there was more that Luke was orchestrating, and the sight of the truck materialising from the Portal only deepened my suspicion. Luke was scheming, planning steps that were beyond my current understanding. The realisation sent a shiver down my spine.

Stepping out onto the front porch, I watched the scene in front of me unfold with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Reverse the truck back a little," Luke called out to Beatrix, his arm movements exaggerated and erratic as he tried to guide her. I chuckled, unable to decide if he was giving parking instructions or orchestrating a symphony with his flailing arms.

My eyes were drawn once again to the brilliant colours of the Portal, a sight that was becoming both familiar and unnervingly surreal. Without warning, the vibrant display evaporated, and the gate reverted to its mundane appearance.

"So, you can move the Portal?" I called out to Luke, a new realisation hitting me. I had now seen the Portal materialise in three different places – the master bedroom, the living room, and now the gate. It was both fascinating and unsettling.

"Yeah," Luke replied, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "As long as I activate it against a relatively flat surface, it appears so."

"That's so amazing," I said, a hiccup interrupting my words. I took another sip of wine, feeling the warmth of the alcohol as it coursed through me.

The truck, with Beatrix at the wheel, came to an abrupt stop, jolting. She quickly jumped out of the cab and hurried to join Luke at the back of the other truck. Luke opened the back of the truck without any caution.

A sudden burst of fear surged through me, sending a shiver up my spine. "What the hell are you doing?" I screeched, unable to contain my anxiety. The last thing I wanted was another glimpse of the dead body; the image had already imprinted itself in my mind, haunting me with its grim reality. I didn't need to check if it was still there – the memory was vivid enough.

"We need to move all the remaining goods into this clean truck," Luke replied, his tone practical, almost detached, as he gave the back of the truck a casual slap.

I wobbled to my feet, clutching the handrail tightly for support. The world spun slightly as I stood too quickly, my head dizzy and stomach churning with nausea. What the hell is Luke thinking? We can't touch the goods. We can't touch anything! The thought of getting involved further, of moving items that might tie us to the crime, sent waves of panic through me.

Luke moved to the back of the second truck, his actions swift and decisive. "Okay, Beatrix, come help me move this stuff," he called out. "It looks like there are only a few smallish boxes left.”

Watching them, I felt a mix of apprehension and disbelief. The idea of transferring items from one truck to another, as if conducting a normal, everyday task, seemed absurd given the circumstances. Yet there was Luke, treating it as just another chore, while I stood there, my emotions oscillating between fear and a desperate desire for things to return to normal.

The reality hit me like a wave – we were actually tampering with evidence of a murder. My heart raced as I considered the implications. Who committed the crime if not Luke? Was the real murderer still lurking around, watching us? The thought sent a shiver of fear down my spine. Despite the situation's gravity, Luke seemed alarmingly unconcerned about the presence of a potential killer. And with Luke and Beatrix teaming up, I felt a compulsion to be involved too. I couldn't risk being left out, not when our involvement had reached such a critical point.

"What about me?" I called out, my voice wavering as I staggered down the first of the three front steps.

"Shit, Gladys. You can barely stand,” said Beatrix.

"I can so," I retorted, defensively. I released my grip on the handrail, taking two slow, deliberate steps to prove my point. Beatrix might have attributed my unsteadiness to the wine, but I knew better. The sight of the bloodied body had unsettled me far more than a few glasses of wine ever could.

“Here, Beatrix," Luke interjected, passing a box to her.

"Gladys, come get this box," Beatrix called out, her tone commanding. "And for fuck's sake, hurry up!"

"Beatrix!" I scolded, snatching the box from her hands. Her impatience grated on me, adding to my already frayed nerves.

Beatrix shot me a glare. "Just put it in the other truck," she ordered.

I huffed in annoyance. Beatrix's bossiness was the last thing I needed right now. Balancing the box in my arms, I made my way towards the other truck, each step heavy with apprehension and the weight of our actions. The reality of what we were doing – meddling in a murder investigation, possibly obstructing justice – was almost overwhelming.

As I carefully placed the box in the other truck, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were crossing a line from which there was no return. Our involvement had escalated beyond my wildest imaginations, and with each box transferred, the gravity of our situation became more pronounced. The normality of the task clashed starkly with the abnormality of the circumstances, creating a surreal experience that left me feeling both part of and detached from the unfolding events.

"I think that's all of them," Luke announced, leaping down from the truck with a finality that I welcomed.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. Finally, it was over. No more dealing with the gruesome reality of dead bodies. I hurried toward the open front door of the house, eager to escape the scene that had unfolded in the driveway.

Luke, however, seemed to have something else in mind as he walked around to the side of the truck. Beatrix, curious, opened the passenger side door, which let out a loud, unsettling squeak.

"What are you looking for?" she inquired, leaning into the truck to address Luke.

I paused, my foot suspended in mid-air over the threshold to safety, my heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

"Oh," Beatrix uttered, her tone hinting at a discovery.

"Oh?" I echoed softly, a sense of dread creeping over me. What had they found now? There was no response to my question, only a heavy silence that seemed to hang in the air.

Suddenly, I gasped, clutching at my stomach as a cramp seized me. The image of all the blood we had seen, the dead bodies that would now likely haunt my dreams, overwhelmed me. The horror of it all was too much to bear.

Acid burned its way up my throat, and instinctively, I stepped back from the door, bending over a large, red flax plant growing beside the steps. I grabbed a slender leaf, pulling it close to my nose, seeking a distraction in its scent. But as I inhaled, I realised with a start that I couldn't smell anything.

Frustrated and concerned, I tried again with another leaf, but to no avail. My sense of smell seemed to have deserted me, adding another layer of distress to an already tumultuous day.

After several failed attempts, I turned my gaze back to Beatrix and Luke, who were still absorbed in their discussion, likely about the dead body that had so disrupted our lives.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself. "Pull yourself together, Gladys," I whispered to myself, trying to muster even just an ounce strength.

As I approached Beatrix, I caught the tail end of Luke's frustrated hiss. "But we need that manifest," he said, his voice tinged with urgency. Curiosity piqued, I squeezed my head through the doorway, resting it against Beatrix's thigh to get a closer look. "What for?" I asked.

Beatrix pushed firmly against my head, trying to nudge me away. But I stood my ground, insistent on understanding the situation. I had been preoccupied with calming my nerves and settling my queasy stomach, but now I needed to know why the manifest was so important.

Luke's eyes flicked from me to Beatrix, a hint of unease in his glance. "The company are going to report the driver and truck as missing. There's nothing we can do about that, but we can at least make it look like he went missing after he finished his deliveries. The Police shouldn't have any reason to suspect us then," he explained in a hushed tone.

A light bulb went off in my head. "Oh," I responded, realisation dawning on me. "I see. Good call." It was a smart, albeit risky, plan to cover our tracks and divert suspicion.

Luke gave a small, resigned shrug and swiftly exited the cab.

"Ooh, condoms," I said, picking up one of the unopened packages and sniffing it deeply. A strong latex odour wafted into my nostrils. I smiled. I can still smell after all.

Beatrix's heavy sigh and her unexpected shove caught me off guard, sending me stumbling backward.

"Beatrix," Luke's voice called from the back of the truck, his tone urgent.

My back stiffened at his summons. Why was Luke at the back of the truck, again? The thought sent a wave of dread through me.

"Yeah," Beatrix responded, as she approached the back of the truck.

"I need you to help me roll him," I heard Luke say.

"Oh!" I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. Luke must think the driver has the manifest on him. The realisation hit me hard, my heart pounding against my chest. I watched the wine in my glass ripple from my trembling hands, and a solitary tear rolled down my cheek. We're going to get caught, I thought, the fear palpable in my mind.

The muffled voices from the back of the truck grew louder, their tension and urgency unmistakable. Overwhelmed, I let my tears flow freely. Snowflake and Chloe need me at home. I'm not going to let my stubborn sister get us caught.

"Beatrix," I called out, my voice trembling as I wiped my face and peered around the truck's door.

Luke and Beatrix both jumped at my sudden appearance.

"What?" Beatrix asked, her tone sharp and cold.

"Help him. I don't want to go to jail," I sobbed.

Beatrix rolled her eyes in exasperation but nodded in agreement. "Fine," she muttered through clenched teeth. She pressed her hand against her mouth and climbed into the truck, crouching beside Luke to assist him.

Numbness enveloped me as I watched the scene unfold with a sense of surreal detachment. The helplessness that gripped me was paralysing.

"You ready?" Luke's voice pierced the silence.

Beatrix shook her head.

"On three, I need you to grab onto his waist and pull him towards us," Luke instructed with a certain gravity.

Again, Beatrix vehemently shook her head, her revulsion clear in her gesture.

Luke tried to reassure her, "It just needs to be a few seconds. Just long enough for me to feel inside his pocket."

Tears blurred my vision as I wiped them away, my heart pounding in my chest.

"One, two, three, roll!" Luke commanded.

With a reluctant grip, Beatrix grabbed Joel’s waist and pulled. The body rolled with a grotesque squelch, a sound that sent shivers down my spine.

"Aargh!" Beatrix shrieked, losing her grip and stumbling backward. Her hands, still clutching the bloodied jeans, inadvertently dragged the body with her.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, yet my heart raced uncontrollably. The adrenaline surging through me sharpened my senses to an unbearable intensity.

"Shit, Beatrix!" Luke exclaimed as he too lost his balance and fell.

My grip on the glass faltered, and it crashed to the concrete, shattering. "Get it off me!" I screamed in terror, frantically scratching at my face, feeling the blood on my skin.

"Gladys! Shut up!" Beatrix hissed.

"Get it off! Get it off!" My screams continued, uncontrollable and hysterical. I felt a viscous trail slowly sliding down my cheek, imagining the worst.

Beatrix, with a swift movement, wiped at my face with the back of her sleeve. "It's all gone," she assured me, her voice trying to convey calm in the chaos.

Panting heavily, I stared at the blood spattered across the floor of the truck, the reality of the situation sinking in. The gruesome sight, the smell of blood and death, the sounds of struggle – it was all too much. My mind raced with fear and confusion. We had crossed a line from which there was no return, embroiled in a situation far beyond our control.

With a heart pounding like a relentless drum, I watched Luke's careful movements. He reached across the lifeless body with a grim determination, delving into the right back pocket. My breath hitched as he pulled out a single piece of paper, unfolding it with swift fingers.

"Is that it?" Beatrix's voice broke through my anxious silence, her tone laced with hope.

"Yeah. We got it," Luke confirmed with a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," Beatrix exhaled, a visible weight lifting off her shoulders.

Luke folded the precious manifest as he handed it to Beatrix, his actions deliberate and precise.

"Gladys, get your ass into the truck!" Beatrix's command snapped me back to reality. She jumped down from the back of the truck, the manifest fluttering in her grasp.

"But... but... the glass," I stammered, a sudden concern for the shattered glass seizing me, a stark contrast to my earlier indifference.

"Forget about the glass," Luke intervened firmly, his focus now on damage control. "I'll clean it up."

"Come on, Gladys. We have to go," Beatrix urged, her hand gripping my arm, pulling me toward the uncertain future that awaited us.

My legs felt like jelly, the urge to collapse almost overpowering. The thought of my beloved cats, alone and confused, if I were taken away, spurred me into action. They can't visit you in prison, I reminded myself.

"Come on," Beatrix pressed, bumping against me with determination.

In a sudden bout of resolve, I reached for the manifest. "I'll hold it," I declared, the need to feel in control of something, anything, overtaking me. Swiftly, I snatched it from her hands.

"Ahh! Gladys!" hissed Beatrix, side-stepping a return nudge from me.

Holding the manifest, I felt a fleeting surge of control, but it was quickly overshadowed by the grim reality of our situation.

"Wait!" Luke's urgent call halted our retreat. His voice was strained, hinting at yet another daunting task.

"What now?" I asked, my frustration palpable as I brandished the manifest, my other hand instinctively touching the spot where blood had marred my face. Wasn't that enough blood already?

"We need to move the body," Luke stated solemnly.

"Hell no!" My reaction was visceral, a screech of disbelief and refusal. The very thought sent shivers down my spine.

"I can't move it by myself," Luke's plea was earnest, his eyes beseeching.

"Gladys," Beatrix intervened, her voice eerily calm in contrast to my panic. "We're already involved now. We may as well keep going." She then turned to Luke, "Are you going to take him through the Portal then?"

Luke shook his head.

"Why the hell not?" My confusion and fear were mounting by the second.

Beatrix's gaze shifted to Luke, seeking answers. "Then what?"

Luke's gulp was audible, a clear sign of his own anxiety. "Jamie isn't ready for the news yet. We can keep the body in the shed at the back of the yard for now," he proposed, a plan forming.

"And the truck?" Beatrix inquired, her mind working through the logistics.

"I'll clean it out and bleach it while you’re gone. Then I'll drive it through the Portal," Luke explained, his plan seeming more like a desperate improvisation.

"But," Beatrix was quick to question. "If you are taking it through the Portal, why bother cleaning it first?"

I found myself rubbing my temple, the ache mirroring the moral turmoil swirling inside me. Each decision, each action, we were sinking deeper into a quagmire of ethical dilemmas.

"I'd rather not raise any suspicions with Paul and Jamie," Luke's reasoning was sound, but it only added to the complexity.

"Fair call," Beatrix's agreement was swift, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

"We need a blanket," Luke's practicality cut through the tension.

"Gladys," a deep male voice called out from the front of the driveway.

"Cody?" My whisper was barely audible, a mix of surprise and rising panic.

"Shit," muttered Beatrix under her breath.

As Cody approached, his presence felt like an intrusion into our already chaotic world. "Gladys, everything okay here?" His question, seemingly innocent, felt loaded with unspoken implications.

I peeked around the corner, forcing a smile. "Cody!" I responded, trying to mask my anxiety.

"Who the fuck is Cody?" Luke's blurted question was laced with suspicion.

"Yeah. Everything is great here," I lied, my voice strained with effort.

"Get rid of him. Now!" Luke hissed, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.

"Why don't we..." I started to suggest, but Beatrix cut me off.

"Wait," she whispered sharply. "I think he may be able to help us."

"Help us?" Luke's disbelief was evident. "How?"

Cody's eyes scanned me, concern etching his features. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, gesturing towards my feet.

"Oh," I chuckled nervously, trying to dismiss his concern. "That's just wine," I said quickly. "I accidentally knocked my glass over."

"Doesn't surprise me, really," Cody replied, a hint of humour in his voice that did little to alleviate the tension.

"How about I meet you back at home in about an hour?" I suggested, even though I doubted that I could keep my promise.

In that moment, surrounded by blood, lies, and now an unexpected visitor, I felt a profound sense of disorientation. My mind raced, trying to navigate the labyrinth of our predicament, while my heart ached for the simplicity of life before all of this.

"Gladys," Beatrix hissed, her voice slicing through the tense air like a knife. I felt a shiver run down my spine at the urgency in her tone. “Bring him here.”

"Huh?" I asked. I poked my head back around the truck, seeking clarity. "What'd you say?"

"Bring him here," Beatrix repeated, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity that I couldn't quite understand.

A cold wave of realisation washed over me, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I hadn't misunderstood her after all. Her command was clear, yet it made my stomach churn with unease.

Beatrix gently pushed against my forehead, nudging me back into action. Her touch was light but insistent.

"Cody, wait!" I called out, my voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and desperation. I could hardly believe that I was about to drag Cody, of all people, into this fiasco.

Cody, who had been making his way down the driveway, came to an abrupt halt. He turned around.

I shrugged at him helplessly, words failing me. I'd already said too much, and yet, there was so much more that remained unsaid.

Cody walked back up the driveway, past me, his steps slow and measured. But when the full scene of the truck unfolded before his eyes, his composure shattered. "What the fuck!" he cried out.

I squeezed my eyes shut, a vain attempt to block out the reality I had created. What the hell was I thinking? Feelings for Cody had started to bud in my heart, but now, faced with this mayhem, I guessed we didn't stand a chance.

"Who the fuck is that, Luke?" Cody demanded, his voice sharp.

"Wait," Luke responded, his tone laced with surprise. "You know who I am?"

"Of course," Cody replied matter-of-factly, his casual demeanour at odds with the tension that hung heavy in the air. "We've been waiting for you."

We? That single word echoed in my mind, a haunting refrain. Who the hell is 'we'? A torrent of questions surged through me. What else haven't you told me, Cody?

"Waiting for me?" Luke repeated, his voice a mix of confusion and curiosity.

Cody simply shrugged off the question. "What happened to him?" he asked, his attention shifting as he climbed into the back with Luke.

Watching Cody's eagerness to help sent a shiver down my spine. I cringed instinctively, surprised yet not at his readiness. Vivid memories from the previous night flooded my mind, casting a new light on Cody's actions. "You have to trust Luke. Do whatever he asks you to do," he had told me, his voice a whisper in the darkness. The memory of his words was like a cold hand gripping my heart, leaving me to wonder just how deep I had waded into waters far more treacherous than I had ever imagined.

"Throat looks like it’s been slit. Any idea who did this?" Cody asked sternly.

Carefully side-stepping the shattered glass, I moved closer to the men. Their voices were muffled, as if the tension in the air was swallowing their words. I strained my ears, desperate to catch every syllable, every hint of what was unfolding before me.

"We don't have time for this now, Luke," Cody insisted, his voice firm, underscored by a sense of urgency that seemed to fill the space around us. "I need to know who he is and what happened. We don't have much time."

Luke, clearly flustered, stumbled over his words, the gravity of the situation rendering him momentarily speechless.

"His name is Joel," Beatrix interrupted, her voice cutting through the confusion like a beacon. "He's Jamie's son."

"Is he...?" Cody began, his gaze shifting towards Luke, an unspoken question hanging between them.

"No, I don't think so," Beatrix replied, her tone measured yet revealing an undercurrent of uncertainty.

"What happened?" Cody pressed, his persistence painting a picture of a man used to getting answers.

Beatrix simply shrugged, her nonchalant gesture belying the seriousness of our predicament.

"I'm not sure," Luke finally managed to say. "He delivered a few tents here this morning. I took the opportunity to take them through the Portal while he was in the toilet, then the boys accidentally ran through."

"The boys?" Cody queried, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Dogs," Beatrix clarified quickly.

"And did he see?" Cody's question was pointed, his eyes locked onto Luke's.

"Yeah," Luke nodded, his admission heavy with implications. "I'm pretty sure he did. And when I returned, I found him like this."

"Shit," Cody muttered, pacing back and forth.

"Oh my God!" I couldn't help but exclaim. The reality of what they were discussing hit me like a ton of bricks. "We've both seen the Portal too," I said, pointing between myself and Beatrix, my voice tinged with panic. "Does that mean we’re all going to die?"

"Not today, Gladys. Not today," Cody replied, his voice reassuring yet hinting at mysteries untold.

"Uh, I am really confused," Luke admitted, rubbing at his forehead in bewilderment. "Who are you again? And how do you know me? Did you have a dream too?"

Dream? I echoed silently in my mind, baffled. What the hell are you on about, Luke?

"I think Gladys and I had better finish making those deliveries," Beatrix interjected, her voice a blend of command and calm. "I'll call you later. When we’re done."

Luke nodded his head in agreement.

My mind was a whirlwind of unanswered questions, the conversation leaving me more perplexed than ever. Yet, in the overwhelming confusion, I found myself being led away by Beatrix, my feet moving almost of their own accord.

"Be careful. Both of you," Cody called out, his concern evident even in his brief farewell.

"We will," Beatrix replied, her hand firm on my shoulder as she steered me towards the other truck. As we walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were leaving behind more than just a gruesome scene – we were stepping further into a mystery that was far bigger and more dangerous than anything I had ever imagined.