Page 117 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"I don’t want..."

The words almost sounded honest. Almost. Then something shifted. Something dark. Something he'd been holding back. His expression hardened.

"If you're looking for attention..."

His mouth twisted bitterly.

"Deputy Collins seemed more than happy to give it to you."

The world… Stopped, not dramatically. Quietly. Like someone had reached into my chest and switched something off. The wind still moved. The trees still swayed. Somewhere a bird called across the valley.

But inside me...

Nothing.

I stared at him. Confused. I genuinely didn't understand. Deputy Collins? Why was he talking about… Oh. Oh no. He'd seen. The thought settled slowly, painfully, into place. I looked down at the little white bakery box between my hands. The ribbon suddenly looked childish. Stupid.

"I wasn't..." My voice barely existed anymore.

"I wasn't talking to him because I wanted to."

He didn't answer. He just stood there. Waiting for me to leave. A strange little laugh escaped me. Small. Broken. Almost embarrassed.

"You think..."

I looked back up at him, tears already blurring the edges of his face.

"...you think this hurts me?"

Another tiny laugh.

"You think you're the first person who's tried?"

My fingers tightened around the cardboard until the corners bent.

"I grew up in houses where doors were locked from the outside. My bedtime stories were screams through walls.”

My throat closed.

"I know what it feels like to pray for the morning to come because the night lasts forever."

A tear escaped before I could stop it. I didn't wipe it away.

"I've survived things..."

My voice cracked.

"...that would've broken most people."

I smiled a sad little smile.

"So, no."

I shook my head gently.

"You can't hurt me, Detective Elias Reed."

A long pause.