Chapter 5

I woke up Saturday morning to the smell of coffee and pastries, I rolled on my back, my head was pounding. I hated hangovers.

“Rise and shine princesa!” Marti sang.

I cracked an eye open to look at her, she didn’t look like the limp dollI I had struggled to move up the the stairs and into bed. She had on a blue casual two piece. I groaned and grabbed my phone.

“It’s 10:34 already!” I whined. “It doesn’t even feel like I slept that long. And how are up and active? You were shit face drunk yesterday.” I continued.

Marti chuckled, “I just take a hot bath, down some aspirin and i’m half way good, with some sugary pastries and latte, the magic is done.” She listed smiling proudly. I was looking at her like poster.

“You did all that this morning? I didn’t even hear the door creak.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” She said handing me a bottle of water and handed me a card of aspirin. I took one.

“I got you a latte and powdered doughnut. You’re welcome.” She said grinning. I lifted myself up and wrapped my arms around her waist.

“Thank youuu.” I squealed. She giggled patting my hair.

“Go have a bath.” You should feel better soon.

Soon I was downstairs in the washroom, doing laundry. It was empty and quiet, except for sound of the whirring machine and my thoughts in my head. I needed to go to the library and grab whatever was going to be in that locker. Anxiety coursed through me like drugs.

I distracted myself, thinking about how I had gotten into Blackthorn. I was buried in studying for the final exams of my first year in my community college. I had seen a scholarship offer for excellent students who couldn’t afford the tuition. I applied without telling mama.

A month later I received a transfer letter to Blackthorn, expenses fully paid. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It had been a mighty chore convincing mama and Aunt Frieda to let me come. I handed the letter to them. Mom had shrunk away from it like it was hot coal. She sobbed for days saying how risky it was going there even under a new name and how dangerous it would be if who I actually was got out. Aunt Frieda wouldn’t even hear it. But once I had told them they’d have to tie me down to not leave home for the scholarship, they’d gone quiet.

The next day mom came to my room and got into bed with me, saying how stubborn I was like father. She said she’d let me, I was surprised but I didn’t ask why. Once mom had agreed, her twin only nodded, I often wondered if they shared thoughts without speaking sometimes.

My thoughts floated back to present. I folded my clothes into my laundry basket and trodded back to the room. Marti had stepped out. It was almost 6pm and a cool breeze wafted in through the windows. I threw on a black hoodie and track pants. I grabbed a side bag and made my way out the door.

There were students laying around on the lawn, dusk making watering down the heat of the sun and lending a slight breeze that carried the smell of summer and salt with it. I avoided the more crowded places and took the most conspicuous path to the library.

Being weekend it was going to be closed by 8pm. It said 6:18 on my watch. I was going to sit in the library till after 7, when it was much more darker and harder to see. I stepped onto the grounds of the library complex. Only a handful of people lay about. I made my way in and walked straight to the line of lockers.

I opened one that read 4, and threw my bag in, Incase eyes were on me.

I walked to the study area and grabbed a book from a shelf and plopped down into one of the more comfy chairs bidding my time while checking it. I read for what seemed like an eternity. It was only 6:42. I got bored and picked another book, and just flipped through pages. Time went slowly.

The alarm on my wrist began to beep at 7:30. I got up. It was late enough for those who didn’t have a desperate use to the library to have cleared out since, and still a bit early for the late readers to be exiting.

I stood in front of the lockers longer than I should have. Seventeen. It looked like every other locker–dull metal, slightly scratched, nothing special. Which somehow made it worse.

My fingers hovered over the handle. This was a bad idea, I knew that. I didn’t even know who was leaving these messages, how they were getting to me, or why they had chosen me. For all I knew, this could be some twisted setup. A trap.

I glanced down the hallway. Empty, too empty. The kind of quiet that made every small movement feel loud. I exhaled slowly and put in the code.

“4283”

I pulled the handle. It opened without resistance. My stomach tightened.

Inside, there was no stack of books, no personal items, just a small, flat envelope. Manila–unmarked. Placed neatly in the center like it had been waiting for me.

My chest rose and fell a little faster as I reached in and took it. It felt light, too light to carry the kind of weight I knew it probably did. I shut the locker quickly, the sound echoing down the hall louder than I expected. I froze, listening. Nothing, still alone.

I turned the envelope over in my hands. No name, neither was there a seal. Just silence wrapped in paper. I didn’t dare open it right there.

I shoved the photos back into the envelope quickly and stepped away from the locker. The hallway suddenly didn’t feel empty anymore. It felt watched. I glanced around. No one. Yet the feeling of being watched latched onto me like cold hands.

My heart raced as I walked back to the dorm. Only a number of students walked around now. Most had gone into town for weekend errands and activities. Tree trunks looked human torsos. Bushes seemed like they would pounce on me. Sounds became all too sharp and jarring. I wanted to break into a jog, but I figured it would attract attention.

I paced myself till I got to the dorm and slipped in my room. I slammed the door shut and bolted it. Blood pounding in my ears.

The room was empty, “Marti?” I called still, even though she had told me she wouldn’t be back until 10:00pm. I drew the blinds, didn’t bother turning on the light. I sat at my study desk and  turned on my study lamp and made space.

I slid my finger under the flap and opened it. I poured it’s contents carefully on the desk. Two photographs, a flash and burner phone. My breath caught. I pulled them out one by one.

I spread the photos face forward on the desk. My eyes widened. On one, father sat in a cubicle of what seemed like a restaurant, facing a man wearing a hat indoor. The second, father alone in his car, backing out of the parking lot. My fingers trembled slightly as I flipped to the back. A timestamp–21:41:03 and 22:01:35.

My pulse started to rise. I didn’t need to check the date, I already knew it.

June 19 2023. The night everything fell apart. My throat tightened. This wasn’t random, this wasn’t someone playing games, this was evidence. Evidence that didn’t match the story the world had accepted.

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening around the photos. Then I noticed something else inside the envelope. A small slip of paper, folded. I opened it.

“You’re closer than they want you to be.”

My heart slammed hard against my chest. They?! Not he, not one person? More than one.

A cold realization settled in. This was bigger than my father. Bigger than one murder.