Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
My car speeds through the frame, obviously out of control and traveling toward the lake. It’s barely a smear across the screen, but the unmistakable silhouette chills my blood all the same. I haven’t seen that car since the tow truck pulled it out of the water, with its front end covered in mud and seeping from every seam.
Minutes later, a person runs away from the scene. They’re barely a shadow with the hood of their sweatshirt up, head bent, facing away from the camera. There’s nothing to gather about the coward’s identity other than their height and build suggest it’s a male who’s escaping. A dozen faces flash through my mind as I try reconstructing that night, accounting again for their whereabouts while I frantically searched for Casey.
“Wait,” RJ tells me when I try to run the video back. “There’s more.”
He scans the footage ahead twenty minutes. I watch the time stamp roll and am sickened to realize that with every second that ticks by, Casey is stuck in the front seat as the water rapidly rushes in and she struggles to free herself. Or else trapped unconscious and sinking toward her death while I was checking bathrooms and hallways.
I keep waiting to see myself. To glimpse Duke and me rushing in to find her. Finally, there’s movement on the edge of the screen. Another figure emerges from the darkness to run toward the lake. It isn’t the same person as before returning with help. This one is taller and wearing different clothes. After a few minutes, he again appears in the frame, now carrying a limp and apparently unconscious Casey dripping wet in his arms. Carefully, he lays her on the grass and rummages through her pockets until he finds her phone.
“He’s sending the text,” I point out. My heart is stuck in my throat. “That’s how I found her. I got a text from her phone telling me where to look.”
When he’s done, he places the phone in her unmoving hand. I watch him lean in to whisper something in her ear. He tenderly touches her face, lingering a moment to watch her. Then he gets to his feet and sprints away.
Leaving her there.
Alone and freezing.
Not knowing if she’d ever wake up or how badly she might be injured.
Just before he disappears into the black forest, as if knowing I would be here, right now, watching him, he glances at the camera and reveals his face. It’s only a split-second of grainy black-and-white footage, but it’s enough.
Fenn.
This whole time. And he’s never said a word.
I sit silently until the video ends and the screen goes black. My hands tremble.
“What do you want to do?” RJ asks tentatively.
I stare at the blank screen for what feels like forever before finally finding my voice.
“I don’t know.”