When Alex woke up, he hadn’t been expecting to be woken by the excited, hushed, ramblings of his boyfriend. His eyes finally blinked away the sleep from his eyes, blurry vision eclipsing his view, taking in the empty bed scene.
Stirring his body awake, Alex flung his naked form off of the sizable mattress and threw on his previously discarded trunks and made his way from the RV’s bedroom, finding a mostly naked Abram on his laptop, smiling wildly.
“If we’re going to lie to our parents about where we’re spending the night so we can have some alone time, can we at least get to wake up together?”
Abram looked up at Alex, apologizing with his cooling baby blues. “Sorry, babe.” Then he made a kissing face, which Alex quickly solved by placing a fast kiss on his lips. Taking a seat next to Abram on one of the couches, Alex tried to get his eyes to focus on the blaring bright light emitting from the focal laptop. Fortunately, the RV had its own WiFi for them to access whatever Abram was up to.
“What are you doing anyway?”
Abram’s eyes became focused slits as they bulged against his sockets, looking from Alex and then back to his computer screen. “I found him.”
“Who?”
“Remember Monday when Reyna said her brother married Emmy Walker?”
“You found the brother?”
They both turned their eyes to the laptop, which was transfixed to a page on a business website of a distributing corporation. Abram’s finger went to a certain place on the screen, under the ‘about us’ link, where Abram’s eager digit hovered under the CEO’s name.
“Rephaim Walker?” Alex’s voice heightened.
“The only reason I found him is because Reyna works there too. She’s not nearly as high up, but they both work there. Together.”
“You’re sure it’s him?”
Abram nodded suggestively. “Positive. If Reyna won’t give us any answers, maybe her brother will.”
“Hopefully, especially since he was the one married to Emmy Walker.” Alex stood up abruptly, grabbing Abram as they lifted from the couch. “But let’s deal with that later, okay? And go back to bed.”
“Alex, we’re so close to finally knowing something.”
“I know, but since we’re not going to school today because of the funeral, we have all day to call and badger this guy.” Alex leaned closer and bent down to kiss Abram’s bare pecs. “Come back to bed with me.”
He allowed himself to get lost in the passionate kiss that Alex initiated next, the couple making out as they pressed their bodies against each other’s overly hormonal bodies. And he hid a small grin that caressed his ego when he pulled apart and Alex unwillingly let out a grunt of frustration.
“One phone call, just one try.”
Slightly shaking his head after it dawned on him suddenly that Abram wasn’t going to let it go, at least not now, Alex gave a last nod of agreement. “Fine. As long as we take a shower afterwards.”
“Try and stop me.” Abram kissed him rapidly before he grabbed his phone to dial the number for the apparent Walker family business.
Abram was connected to a receptionist quickly, a bubbling voice colliding violently without abandon in his ear.
“Thank you for calling Anzhelika, how may I direct your call?”
“Uh, hi.” Abram wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to initiate the conversation, especially when he didn’t really know what he was looking for. All he could think about was the fact that Reyna’s brother knew something that they didn’t. And that something was something they not only needed to know, but deserved to know after everything they had been through. “I was trying to reach Mr. Walker.”
“Who may I ask is calling?” The man’s voice rang through loudly, a little less peppy than when he had first answered the phone, a little more guarded. But nothing about his tone indicated that he was anything other than curious.
He looked to Alex then, even though he knew Alex had no idea what he should say either, even if the call was on speakerphone. So he just blurted out an answer that was sort of true. “I’m, uh, a friend of his exwife’s.”
There was a large and loud palpable pause on both ends of the phone call. Abram checked his cell, just to make sure that the call hadn’t dropped or anything. Nothing was wrong with the call however. And Abram learned that the receptionist was just taking a moment to choose his words particularly carefully before he spoke to him again.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Walker doesn’t discuss topics not related to business.”
“I think his exwife...I think he has some type of connection, through his exwife, to Sumner Shadows.”
Another long break in dialogue occurred, but the receptionist was quicker than the prior pause. It was obvious, by his next set of speech, that he had absolutely every detail about who exactly Sumner Shadows was. “I don’t know who you are, but do not call here again with assumptions and halfhearted accusations unless you hold a warrant in your hand. Mr. Walker has been through enough without dimwitted calls that hold no merit.” His tone shifted to the effervescent one he had worn proudly earlier in the conversation, no longer heatedly whispering into the receiver. “Thank you for calling Anzhelika, you have a wonderful day.”
The receptionist hung up then, enabling both Alex and Abram to just glance at each other, soaking in everything that had just transpired from their collective efforts.
“Do you think they’ve gotten calls like this before?” Alex scoffed sarcastically.
“We’re obviously on the right track though. He recognized Sumner’s name.” Abram nodded. “Without question, this guy, Rephaim, whoever he is, was married to Emmy Walker.”
“We should get ready,” Alex sighed. “We’re not going to get any further with this guy today. And Mom wants me to ride with the family before we go to the funeral.”
Knowing the need to shift his priorities, Abram nodded at his boyfriend, settling into the subdued sensations that came with knowing that in a few hours, he’d be attending the funeral of an innocent person who had been murdered way ahead of their time.
Kirby blamed the funeral as to why she was tearing apart her mother’s room. She hadn’t had much time to even deal with Salem being back in her life because knowing that her mother was in contact with Blanche was driving her to the very edge of sanity. And here she was, missing school on a Friday because she was going to the funeral of a young girl that had been killed, one her mother might have talked to on the very night she had died.
The Salem thing definitely brought back a lot of...well, everything for her. He had once been such a huge part of her life, and she’d admittedly be lying to herself if she voiced that she hadn’t missed the person she always had and always would consider her best friend. But him being back left a tremor of problems to shudder her soul, that she normally avoided, the topics wide awake again after being left to a neglected hibernation for longer than she had time to focus on. It made her strangely glad that Salem was busy adjusting to life in Armor Falls so that they both could garner some perspective. That way, they could prepare themselves for their inevitable ‘catching up’ conversation.
But right now, she had bigger things to tackle. Kirby was scavenging around her mother’s room for more evidence that pieced together her mother’s relationship with the late Blanche Baxxen. Kirby already had the letter that Blanche had addressed to Athena, but all it contained was a short scrawled cry for help and a phone number. Kirby figured there was no point in calling the number now, since it was probably already disconnected. All she wanted to know was what they had talked about and why Athena had risked everything to let Blanche believe that her mother was a safe place to turn to.
“There has to be something.” she said to the empty room, knowing that no one was around to hear her musings, but needing to verbally assure herself that giving up wasn’t an option she could access.
There was a nagging, gnawing voice in the forefront of her mind that told her to check the selfproclaimed vault, where Athena k
ept her most prized pieces of both couture and selfspun fashion. It only made sense to look there next. Kirby drew back the pair of doors to her mother’s massive closet and found herself sitting at the vanity, going through the drawers for anything out of the ordinary, something that had been added upon her earlier entry into the vault itself. She found her answer in the bottom right drawer of the pearl white vanity. Kirby knew the contents of the makeup station as well as her mother did. And lying in the drawer among her mother’s discarded designs was a flash drive. One that hadn’t been there before Homecoming.
She flew out of the matriarch’s room and made haste downstairs to the living room, instantly finding her laptop on the coffee table, opening it up and throwing the flash drive into its designated USB port.
It took her computer just a second to embrace the flash drive as compatible, a window displaying its contents on her laptop screen. Only one file resided on the device, a video file. With slightly quaking tips in her fingers, Kirby doubleclicked on the file and waited for it to play.
“If you’re watching this right now, chances are you already know who I am.” Blanche spoke as soon as she filled the entirety of the screen, Kirby’s eyes begging for an exit as overwhelming fear singed her entire body with a sweep of emotions. “But in case it hasn’t hit you yet, my name is Blanche Baxxen.”
The front door to the Wheaton home swung open as her mother glided in looking like a wilted orchid from having worked night shift. Athena turned to greet her daughter, but she heard Blanche’s voice, her dark eyes going right for Kirby’s computer.
“Turn it off!” Athena screamed.
Just shocked by the intensity caught in her mother’s throat, Kirby obliged by shutting the lid of her laptop, and Blanche’s postmortem uttering by proxy.
“Mom, enough avoiding. What’s going on?”
Setting down her purse on an end table by the door, Athena found a seat next to her daughter on the living room couch, grabbing the flash drive and closing a fist around it. Kirby shifted on the furniture as she faced her mom for an answer.
“Kirby,” Athena began. “The video you found...it’s dangerous.”
“Everything about this, Sumner, Blanche, all of it, has been dangerous.” Even though she was speaking to her mother in a tone she wouldn’t have previously, Kirby saw reflected in Athena’s eyes that her mother knew that she understood the stakes they had been living in since moving to Armor Falls. “I’ve seen the note, Mom.” she admitted quickly. “All it had was her asking for assistance and a number for you to call, but I assume she wanted you to meet her.” Once again, Kirby’s affirmations were confirmed as Athena’s eyes expanded like orbs of yeast. “So did you?”
“Yes.” Athena expressed, forgoing any hindrances of verity. “But listen to me, really grasp what I’m saying, because this is super important. Blanche knew the risks and she still…” Emotion demanded attention over her entire body as she tried to suffocate her sentiments enough to be able to continuing speaking, but Kirby could see the internal struggle as she closed her eyes.
“I understand, Mom. You know I do. Just tell me what happened.”
Her mother steeled herself as her eyes locked on Kirby’s. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to say. Not Mercer, not your friends, no one.” Athena sighed. “Because I’m almost certain I was the last person to see Blanche Baxxen alive.”
Cool air met Athena’s oval face as she stepped out of her car, fleeing from her vehicle as her pumps left halfheavy imprints in the grass of Westbrooke Park. It was the night of Westbrooke High School’s Homecoming and Kirby and Mercer had just left the house to arrive at the event. That’s when Athena had called Blanche and agreed to meet. She had to try to help. She had to try. Athena found herself at one of the park’s gazebos to wait for Blanche.
As her nurse at Arclan, Athena knew that the young woman hadn’t committed the crime that had landed her behind the thick walls of the asylum. She knew Blanche didn’t, couldn’t, have hurt her mother enough to send her into a lifethreatening coma. And she also believed her when she claimed that Sumner was the real culprit connected to the assault of Veronica Baxxen. Since then, Athena had taken to Blanche, looking after her. And when the incident occurred that allowed Blanche to escape Arclan, Athena had just been worried about her and was seeking her own answers as to why Blanche felt the need to run.
“Athena.”
Looking at the gazebos opening, the older of the two women took in the vibrant young features of her former patient turned fugitive. She hadn’t even heard her approach, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to listen out for anyone. The dark hue of the night told her that the sort of mishap of not listening out for anything could end very badly if she wasn’t careful.
“Blanche.”
Smiling on a miniscule scale, the shorter brunette embraced the leggy blonde warmly for a few measures, the pair separating shortly thereafter.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Blanche nodded.
“Of course.” Athena stepped closer to the young girl, her eyes scanning beyond them for potential eavesdroppers and onlookers, unlike before. “You said you were finally going to tell me what’s been happening, why everything’s been so crazy.”
“I am,” Blanche gestured positively, her hands reacting to the cool environment thriving amongst them by twitching in small seizures of moderate magnitude. “In a way. I can’t just outright tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to end up in the morgue.” She wasn’t jolted by Athena’s retort to the truth, which involved the blonde jerking wildly to her words. “I’m only attempting to trust you with this because I’m afraid something…that something might happen to me.”
“Blanche—”
“Athena, just listen. I have to get going soon.”
“Alright, alright.” She tried her best to remain calm and listen to her young friend and not outwardly show that she was panicked and scared. “Go ahead.”
“You have access to patient files, right?”
“Correct.”
“Good. If you want answers as to what this is all about, all you need to do is find a certain patient’s file.” Blanche insisted.
“Why? Who’s the patient?”
“Frankie Ellery.”
Athena instantly knew the name. The patient she was bringing up hadn’t been on her own round of people to assist, but Frankie Ellery was one of the few patients injured during Blanche’s escape. And ever since the excursion, all those involved in the escape were confined to solitary, every employee being brought up to speed that no interaction with these patients would be tolerated, by any means.
“Why Frankie Ellery? What does she have to do with all of this?”
“Find the file, it’ll lead you to the answers.” Blanche checked the leather watch around her wrist. “Look, I’m trusting you with this, to figure this out in case something happens to me tonight.” Blanche’s eyes wavered with substantial emotive indicators, tears singing their goodbye from her dark blue irises.
“Wait, Blanche, tonight? What’s happening tonight?”
“Tonight, I stop hiding.”
Shaking her head, Athena refused to accept this as a good enough response. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to.” Blanche, reaching into her jacket pocket, revealed a flash drive and thrust it toward Athena. “If...if I don’t make it, you can release this video. But not until you figure it out by yourself first, with the file. I need someone I trust behind this, someone who uncovered the full story so people don’t just go off the video confession of a…dead girl.”
The look on Blanche’s face told Athena that she honestly didn’t think she was going to live to see morning. She was confused. Athena wasn’t understanding why Blanche was holding back the information she so clearly possessed.
“Blanche, we should go to the police! Or just let me watch this video!”
“Athena, dammit, you have to trust me! Trust me that
this is the way everything has to happen, okay? And you can’t tell anyone. It’s your choice, Athena. This is where you decide whether to run or stick around and trust me. Are you in or out?”
Without really meaning to, Athena was reminded of the event that happened back in Maine with Kirby. Back to the reason they had moved to Armor Falls, one that no one knew. And back then, she had done the impossible to protect Kirby. Blanche didn’t have her mother, didn’t have a constant to defend her legacy. She needed someone like Athena on her side, to help her settle this for good.
Leaving her actions to speak for her, Athena grabbed the flash drive Blanche was still extending to her. If she wanted Athena to be her Plan B, to piece everything together if the worst happened tonight, then she had to honor Blanche’s plea so that for the first time since her mother’s accident, someone could protect her.
“Thank you, Athena.” Blanche said, letting out a pure tinged breath. “I owe you everything.”
“I’ll do everything I can. I promise you.” She nodded.
“I know you will.” Blanche bore a half halo of a grin. “I have to go. Thanks again, for everything you’ve done, and everything I know you’ll continue to do for me. My death...it won’t be for nothing, thanks to you.”
The young fugitive woman started to run out of the gazebo like an Olympian, ready to go off into the shadowy drapes of the cool night. But Athena had to ask one final question before she disappeared. Possibly forever.
“Blanche,” she roared, causing her to turn around and stare back into the dark eyes of the stoic and sympathetic woman that was curating her legacy, awaiting her further directory of dialogue. “It’s him. The reason why you’re scared about tonight. It’s Sumner, right?”
Scoffing, Blanche bobbed her head appropriately, as if she were waiting for Athena to ask for the validation so that it could finally be set in stone. “It always is, isn’t it?”
Blanche retreated from Westbrooke Park, Athena clutching the lifeline that was the flash drive and hoping that everything worked out tonight so she wouldn’t have to uncover the happenings that were being kept by her former patient, and she really hoped her young friend wouldn’t meet the end of her life for attempting to tell her what Sumner’s entire breakdown was all about.
Kirby just sat in finite quiet, looking at her mother with open, astonished eyed. She figured her mother had probably met with Blanche, but confirming that Athena was the last person to see her before the killer had slayed her like a fantasy dragon...it was a lot to take in.
“Frankie Ellery?” Kirby pondered aloud, not needing her mother to respond. “Well, did you find the file?”
“It’s being taken care of.” Athena nodded.”
“Mom—”
“No, Kirby. I’ve told you enough. I only told you because of the note you found.” The matriarch ascended, changing the core of the energy in the room. “We should get ready. The funeral is in an hour.”
Her mother headed upstairs, enabling Kirby to reopen her laptop and try to find everything she could about Frankie Ellery. If she was the key like Blanche said, Kirby was going to dedicate her every waking moment to making it unlock everything that was the shrouded mystery of Sumner Shadows, even if it meant not telling a single soul what she was about to embark on.
When Bridge offered to answer the door to the Meadows house while everyone else finished getting ready, he hadn’t planned on seeing Salem Simon. So when he threw the azul door open and was met with Salem’s dashing handsome face, a smile sizzling on his lush lips, Bridge immediately pushed him out of the doorway and closed the door so they could talk outside without the fear of being overheard.
“What are you doing here, Salem?”
He was dressed in his mourning best, a dark tuxedo pressed to perfection that rested tightly against his clearly muscled and toned body. Mentally getting over his apparent thirst, Bridge cleared his throat while Salem answered him.
“Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Salem winked. “Do you really live with Kirby’s boyfriend?”
“I told you,” Bridge scoffed. “Mercer is my best friend.”
“What about your parents, why don’t you live with them?”
The question stirred a roaring stab to his heart, even though he knew it wasn’t Salem’s fault. Bridge just shook his head, stepping back from the crushing gravity of the subject.
“We don’t have to tell each other everything, like we’re a couple or whatever, so I don’t know why you’re here, and—”
Salem stepped forward then, eliminating space between the two young men. “I haven’t stopped thinking about the bar.”
“Salem,”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Bridge.” he laughed it aside, like it was preposterous, which Bridge agreed. It really was. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to share a pizza together, or see a movie...get coffee…” All while he kept his sentence sputtering between his lips, Salem seductively inched closer until Bridge felt his hot breath against his mouth, one of his hands on his own hips while Salem’s other hand loosely skimmed against Bridge’s chest. “Or grab another drink and swap further damage.”
And then they were kissing, viciously making out while their tongues each fought for the crown of their royal battle. Their hands found each other’s bodies with such simplicity. Bridge somehow found his better judgment during the heated endeavor, lightly yet firmly pressing Salem off of him. He felt strangely proud of the look of discomfort on the taller man’s rugged face.
“I can’t.” Bridge finally said. “I really want to, you have no idea. I’m just not ready for...anything right now.”
“I get it.” Salem assured him with a brushoffhisshoulder way about him that Bridge couldn't help but be fascinated by. “Can’t blame me for trying.” He paused to wag his eyebrows at him before his smirky nature was replaced by genuine concern. “I’m sorry if I pressured you or—”
“No.” Bridge stated, calming the other boy’s cloudy concern with a tiny laugh. “You seem like a great guy. But I broke up with my exboyfriend practically two hours ago. I’m just not in a place for anything more than the one time at the bar.”
Salem agreed with a tilt of his head, grinning at him brightly. “Bridge, I got it. We’re good.”
“Good.” he smirked.
They broke apart abruptly when the front door snapped back open as the three Meadows’ men rolled out of the grandeur house.
“Oh,” Clay said, seeing how close Salem and Bridge had been before their exit from the house and they had stumbled upon the pair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Salem, right?”
“That’s right, sir.” he grinned. “I better get going though. I have to pick my mother up for the funeral.”
“You and your mother are attending Blanche’s funeral?” Araec inquired.
“As respect,” Salem told them. “Since Mom is the new face of Arclan.”
“Right.” Araec smiled warmly at him.
“We’ll see you there then.” Mercer gave up a sincere smile that caught Bridge more off guard than Salem’s arrival on their doorstep.
Salem just beamed again, letting his eyes linger on Bridge prior to him returning to his sleek Mitsubishi Eclipse, the latter doing his best to keep appearances as they got ready to attend Blanche Baxxen’s untimely funeral.
“So, are you hooking up with Salem?”
Mercer’s outright inquiry didn’t really raise suspicion to Bridge as they walked across the vast expanse of lawn as a storm cloud of people gathered for Blanche’s funeral. Personally, Bridge was just explosive with gratitude that Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, who were funding the dark event, hadn’t agreed to have the funeral at Armor Falls Cemetery, something Mercer couldn’t have thanked them enough for either. The last thing all of them needed was a reminder of the night that they were attacked, through the death of someone their age that had fell victim to murder.
“Seriously?” Bridge smirked as they glided across the lawn to find their friends.
“Is that jealousy I detect under all that bravado?”
“Oh yeah, I’m so mad he took my man.” Mercer scoffed, laughing as he shoved himself into his friend, their shoulders rubbing together off key. “I just wanna make sure you’re careful.”
“Is this because Salem is Kirby’s ex?”
“It’s because you just completely ended it with Ben.” Mercer sighed, knocking his head back and forth, like a metronome of pure thought. “Although, that fact is still very...new.”
“At least you’re not freaking out about the former pregnancy meets former flame phenomenon.”
“It’s weird,” he said truthfully, rolling his shoulders thusly. “But if Kirby’s alright, then I’m cool with Salem. Look how she’s been around Harley. That being said, it worries me if you two are hooking up since you’re still so freshly wounded from the Ben incident. And everything with Emmy Walker and—”
“When have you ever known me to act like a wounded animal?” Bridge draped an arm around Mercer then, rocking both of them as they continued to amble on the grass. “I’ll be okay, Merce. I love you for caring, but I’m good. And I’m not casually hooking up with Salem.” He hugged briefly as their trek to Alex and Abram came to an end. “No matter how much I wa...I mean, no matter how much he wants to.”
Stopping their give and take, Abram and Alex both looked up as their friends joined them just outside the group of people in attendance.
“Okay, so what couldn’t wait until after the funeral?” Bridge quickly prompted, ready to get to business as usual.
“We don’t have long before it starts,” Alex nodded, looking to Abram first before giving his other friends the smallest of smiles. “Abe found the brother.”
“What brother?”
“Reyna has a brother, remember?” Abram said, responding to Mercer’s question outright. “We found him. His name is Rephaim Walker, and we made contact with him. Sort of. Anyway, what’s important is that we know that he was her husband. He was married to Emmy Walker.”
“That’s good. Really good.” Mercer stated. “Maybe he can help us find her, or at least why Sumner seemed to know her.”
“That’s great and all, but what about what Reyna said?” Bridge countered. “What did she mean by her ‘one of you’ comment?”
“We don’t know.” Alex told him. “But we have a lead. And that’s what we should focus on after all of this.”
“Rephaim is our key to Emmy. And by proxy, the solution to unlocking the reason behind Sumner attacking us in the cemetery.”
“Can we talk about this later, like when we’re not in another cemetery?”
They agreed with Bridge, so they turned away from each other to join everyone else. Everyone in the mournful congregation took their seats as the funeral procession began, the friends finding sanctuary by their families’ side. The funeral had just started, every member of the Jacobs family standing by the leader of the funeral, when a team of policemen, led by the ever lethal Alston Dagger, made their lawful wave commence, marching towards the funeral. Many eyes flew to their adamant stampede, whispers among the dark characters wondering why they were intruding upon their grief.
Adelaide leapt up out of her seat just as everyone’s eyes fell on the brigade of blue donned officers. She focused on Dagger, her eyes vigorous slits of intensity.
“Alston, what is going on?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Officer Llewellyn.” His tone surprised her, a cold front invading the voice she had known for years and years to an unrecognizable baritone as he slipped past her, scanning the crowd for his reason in coming.
“Is there a particular reason you’re here, detective?” The man storming over to Dagger then was Mr. Jacobs, followed by his wife and their children. Straton and Sterling looked on with confused, blurry eyes as tears thrusted against the outside world, a grimy film threatening to burst at any given moment.
“My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, but this can’t wait.” Dagger flexed his eyes over to where Sumner’s former best friends sat huddled together with their families. He walked over to them, standing before where Mercer and Bridge sat with the rest of the Meadows family.
“I’m sorry about this.” Dagger said, and it was evident that his sentiment was just and true when he looked at both Clay and Araec, but once his eyes fell on the young man sitting to their left, he was back to business mode, intent on fighting crime in every shape and form it happened to manifest. “Bridge Mathison, you’re under arrest for the murder of Blanche Baxxen.”
He stood up in horror, Bridge staring at Dagger like he was publicizing that he was addicted to methamphetamine, like he was utterly insane and on his way to admit himself into a private room at Arclan, but it was spelt all over his face in highlighted letters. He truly believed what he was accusing Bridge of committing.
“Are you crazy?” Clay said, standing up with him. “You come to this poor girl’s funeral and accuse—”
“That’s enough, sir.” Dagger silenced him with a stare that could stop a speeding Ferrari. An officer came around to Bridge, handcuffing him as his friends came over in an uproar, their parents not far behind.
“Detective, Bridge didn’t do this!” Mercer screamed, Kirby running up to his side, looking on, terrified by what was happening.
“Mom,” Salem said from a little distance, looking up at her. “You’re a lawyer, help him!”
Maxima Simon sauntered over to the debacle, sifting through the shocked facades of the crowd in attendance as Clay and Araec, and really all of the other parents, glued their eyes to Maxima as the officers started to push Bridge away from them and towards where Dagger stood a few feet from them.
“You’re a lawyer?” Adelaide said, none of them really knowing how she had acquired the means to help save Arclan Asylum before hearing about her career.
She didn’t speak to any of the parents, or Bridge’s friends, but instead yelled at him directly from behind the officers that were leading him away from the funeral. “Bridge, don’t say a word until I get there.”
As they watched their friend being shoved into the posterior of a cop car, Bridge’s friends all felt their previously silent phones buzz in unison, all of them receiving a message at that exact moment. Everyone was so distracted by the funeral being interrupted by the law that they backed away from the hysteria to glance at each other together.
“All three of us?” Alex said, all of them pausing to look at their phones, seeing that the message was from a blocked number, which was way too ABC Family for them, considering that the person that they knew it must be from had been speaking to them in the form of letters, so that nothing could be electronically traced.
The message was undoubtedly from the stalker, the person who knew about what they had done right after Sumner had tried to kill them at the cemetery. And its message was clear that they had been watching everything that had just happened, or maybe that they had even played a hand in making it happen, not to mention that this person was most likely the same person that had taken the pages from Bridge to begin with.
It only takes one to bring the rest of you down. How long until he breaks and spills the truth?
In true paranoid fashion, they looked around to see if someone was looking, their eyes finding the police car as it sputtered to a start, taking Bridge to the police station for a murder they all knew he didn’t commit. But one that the person who knew explicit information about the night at the cemetery could have framed him for.
19
IT’S HER