Chapter 22
Emmett waited for his pickup order at Cotija’s with his eyes on his phone, happily working through the new comments his recent post had racked up.
He acknowledged each of them with a like and a reply, but it was getting harder to find something new to say each time.
There were so many, dozens, mostly from strangers.
Their abundance, and the strength of their support, overwhelmed him.
Part of him felt guilty that he hadn’t achieved his weight loss naturally, the Obexity his shameful little secret.
But surely that was just his social conditioning.
The point of losing weight was to be healthier, happier, not to starve or kill himself doing backbreaking exercise.
If he had cancer and a new treatment had cured him overnight, he wouldn’t feel anything but relieved and grateful. Why should this be any different?
An influx of customers drew Emmett’s gaze up from his phone.
His eyes caught on a TV mounted in the corner.
The midday news was muted, but he recognized the face on the screen at once: the stiff mane of honey-blond hair, the protuberant eyes.
It was the Future Makers woman who’d interviewed him months before.
The chyron read, LOCAL WOMAN MISSING SINCE FRIDAY.
Missing? But Emmett had seen her, hadn’t he? Through the open doorway, deep in conversation with a colleague, while Emmett was leading SAT prep. He remembered thinking how rude and disruptive it was. He still resented her for all the shit she’d said in his interview.
He remembered an intense surge of anger, of wanting to hurt her like she’d hurt him…
Then waking up the next morning.
His hands covered in blood.
The guy behind the counter called Emmett’s order number, but he wanted to leave the food and run. He felt unsafe in the presence of the woman’s headshot, as if it might come alive and accuse him of a crime that only she could remember.