Page 207 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"You think you're smarter than me? I saw you crying over that stupid dog. I wished I had killed him. Sliced him open for you to find."

The world narrowed down to a tiny, suffocating point of black ink. My lungs burned for air, my chest heaving against the chair rungs, my core clenching as the pressure behind my ears turned into a violent, rhythmic thrum.

Inside my head, Gerald was screaming.

"Fight, Seraphina! Fight the restriction!"

"SERAPHINA!"

Frank shrieked louder, his ceramic voice cracking into a dozen white fragments.

The room shrank. The black dots exploded across my vision, the yellow bulb above me fading into a flat, grey mirror. His face was right in front of mine, his grin creepy and wide, watching life leave my eyes.

BANG.

One gunshot. A violent, air-snapping rifle crack that ricocheted off the four-inch concrete walls like a thunderbolt.

Elias

The truck idled beneath the cover of the pines, the engine vibrating so low it became part of my heartbeat. No one spoke. No one needed to. Three hours.

Three fucking hours since Max had barked. Three hours since I'd walked into her kitchen and found the dough drying on the counter. Three hours since I'd picked Gerald's shattered pieces off the concrete. Three hours since I'd realised I was already too late.

I sat with both hands wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel my knuckles had gone bone white beneath the cuts and dried blood. I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop replaying her voice.

I just never thought you'd sound like one.

The words kept carving through me. I should've told her. God… I should've told her. Not tomorrow. Not after the investigation. Not when things were safer.

That night. On my porch. I should've walked after her. I should've grabbed her hand. I should've told her she'd somehow crawled beneath my ribs and made herself at home. That I'd started measuring days by whether I saw her smile. That hearing her laugh from across the clearing somehow made this mountain feel less empty.

Instead… I'd pushed her away.

Now someone else had their hands on her. The thought alone made my stomach twist so violently I thought I was going to throw up.

A knock landed against my window. Derek. I looked up. He'd already geared up. Vest. Helmet. Rifle. He studied me for a second.

"You alright?"

"No."

It came out before I could stop it. His expression softened for half a heartbeat.

"We're getting her back."

I swallowed.

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"How?"

"Cause if she's still breathing..."

He glanced toward the warehouse hidden beyond the trees.

"...you're going through every wall between here and there."