Chapter 12
I open my laptop and pull up my emails. One from Holly catches my eye that I realize I never replied to.
It's a response to my initial inquiry two weeks back about releasing the episode early, hoping the boost would help after our numbers had been tanking. I was praying she'd give the go-ahead so I could spend a few hours perfecting it.
Damn. Since recording Holly's episode, we've lost twenty thousand followers, though Sabrina's personal account seems to be growing, thanks to that star power and attractiveness people can't get enough of.
I was hoping we could release this early and maybe win back some of their favor. I knew this long break would kill us.
At least I get more time to make sure this episode really stands out. I think it's our last shot before we might have to consider a career change.
I'm basically freelance now, my friendship with Mara and Sabrina forming organically over the time we've spent together. Even if we went our separate ways with our careers, we'd still see each other regularly. They're the sisters I never had.
But lately, there's this strange charge between us—like we're all magnets flipped the wrong way, unable to connect no matter how close we get.
I know I should probably be researching the events happening in the town I'm in, but instead, I pull up Holly's episode and pick up right where I left off.
"Umm, so yeah," Sabrina says over the recording, and I roll my eyes.
"Ugh!" I sneer at her inarticulacy, tapping at my keyboard. "I'll have to edit that out."
My job is to create a seamless flow, as if you'd never know it was spliced together. Some sentences get cut altogether because they're just not interesting or add nothing to the scene.
Holly's voice plays through my over-ear headphones, the end of the interview nearing as she speaks to Jack as if he were still alive today.
"I loved you, Jack. You were everything to me. But now… all I feel is hate. I hate you. I hate myself for not seeing it. For not realizing what you were capable of.
"You left those women exposed and violated, legs spread, like they didn't matter. Like they were nothing. I trusted you. And now, when I look at your face, all I see is a stranger. A killer.
"How did I miss it? The sneaking out. The secrets. The lies, so many lies. I let myself believe you. And because of that, I don't think I'll ever trust anyone again. Nine victims."
Holly pauses, her voice cracking under the weight of it. "But I will be your last. That much, I promise. And I'll heal. In ways they never got to. I'll live for them. All of them."
It's a powerful speech, one that captures the essence of a true fighter, embodying feminism and courage at its core.
"Umm, wow, I'm at a loss for words," Sabrina repeats her buzz word, and I scoff, quickly editing out the final "umm" one last time.
I toss my headphones onto the bed, wiping the exhaustion from my eyes. How did Holly not know? Would I know the signs if Aiden was really a monster? He has been having last-minute plans lately, but that doesn't mean it's suspicious behavior, right?
And what about my closest friends? I've known them longer, and we all have skeletons in our closet, but something this horrific… you'd have to be completely soulless.
Just then, the softest knock taps on the door, like a child rapping their small fist against the sturdy wood, barely audible.
I don't rush to answer, mulling over who it could be, what they might want, and why they wouldn't announce themselves. No "housekeeping," no "hey, it's Chet" to break the silence.
When I reach the doorknob, I turn it just slightly, the door groaning as I break the seal of warmth from inside the room.
I keep the gap small, just enough to make sure I'm not face-to-face with the town sock thief. But when I glance outside, there's no one. The exterior is empty, except for the snowy footprints leading to and from our entrance.
But as I start to pull the door shut, a gust of wind rustles a piece of paper taped to the door, and it flutters free.
I hesitate, then snatch it from the air, my pulse quickening. The words scrawled on it send a cold chill straight to my core.