Chapter 56 #3
I had a car back at the tiny house I’d rented since freshman year, but I’d always taken the bus to campus to avoid the constant traffic around it.
It was cheaper than driving all the time, too, and I was living on a tight budget; mostly the remainder of my student loans topped off with savings from the part-time job I’d worked at throughout high school.
The bus finally pulled away from the curb, tires hissing on the asphalt, and I leaned my head against the cold glass and stared out at the streets blurring past. A moment later, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A black sedan.
My stomach instantly tightened, because the Carver had driven a black sedan. It was one of the many details I remembered from that awful night.
Then again, black was one of the most common car colors in this city. It didn’t mean anything.
I averted my eyes, let out a heavy breath, and pulled out my phone to check my emails. They were mostly junk. Sales I’d never use and updates from websites I couldn’t even remember subscribing to. Oh, and three job application rejections.
Great.
There were also some notes from Freya for our next recording session, and a message from my home security app. Your password is set to expire. Please update immediately to maintain access.
I clicked that instantly, because I was the kind of person who forgot stuff like this if I didn’t do it in the moment.
The security system was an expensive, much-appreciated gift from my stepfather.
Not just cameras, but touch sensors and auto-locks, along with password updates every three months for an added level of safety.
It was a little annoying that I needed to come up with a new password so frequently, but at the same time, it was worth it for the peace of mind the system brought me.
I opened the settings and started typing in a new password. Just as I was about to hit the ‘save’ button, another email appeared in my notification bar.
From: Malachi Sieger
Subject: Interview request
I had no idea who Malachi Sieger was, so I quickly finished updating the security system and then tapped the email to open it.
Hi Kennedy,
My name is Detective Malachi Sieger. I’m new to the Corwin Bay PD, having recently transferred from Boston.
I understand your family has had a cooperative relationship with the precinct in the past, and I’d like to continue that tradition. On that note, I’d appreciate the opportunity to speak with you about the podcast that you and Ms. Freya Landis have recently started.
If you’re available this coming Monday between 2 - 4 p.m., feel free to stop by the station and ask for me directly. No pressure - I just have a few questions about the show. If another time suits you better, please reach out to let me know, and I’ll try to arrange that instead.
Best,
Detective Sieger
I reread it twice, my stomach sinking a little further each time. There was nothing technically hostile or threatening in the message, but ‘I just have a few questions’ was usually police-speak for ‘I’m not happy, and you’re going to hear all about it’.
My first thought was of Freya.
We’d both worried that this might happen, and we’d debated it from the start—how much we could legally say on the podcast, and how much backlash we were willing to risk.
But she’d been so confident about it all in the end, having thoroughly researched what we could and couldn’t say, and I trusted her judgment, so I convinced myself we could handle whatever came once we started releasing episodes.
Now I wasn’t so sure we’d made the right call.
I made a mental note to get in touch with Freya after her shift at JJ’s Diner ended in four hours.
Then I locked my phone and stared out the window again, barely registering the blur of lights and buildings as the bus continued its route through downtown Corwin Bay.
A low, queasy ache had settled in my gut.
The black sedan I’d spotted earlier suddenly drew my attention again. It was still in the next lane, just one car length behind my seat on the bus, its dark body gleaming. My eyes flicked to the driver's side.
A man sat behind the wheel. At least I assumed it was a man, based on his hulking size.
He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled low, so his face wasn’t visible.
Black leather gloves gripped the steering wheel, and something about the stiffness of his posture made my pulse stutter.
He looked… off. Like someone who was only playing at normal.
He sped up slightly, pulling up right alongside my seat, and my breath caught as he raised his head and turned to look at me. He was wearing a mask.
It looked like a skull. White and bone-smooth, like molded ceramic. Hollow black sockets where the eyes should be. No jaw, just an empty curve at the bottom like it had been cut clean off.
My blood turned to ice as I stared.
The man tilted his head slowly to the side, studying me through the bus window. Then he lifted one gloved hand from the wheel and waved.
Not casually. Not innocently. It was a slow, deliberate wave. The kind you gave someone when you wanted them to know it was personal.
I flinched back from the glass like I’d been burned, heart hammering and hands trembling in my lap.
When I dared to look again… the car was gone.