Chapter Twenty
I wasn’t able to get any work done during the day, and I felt nauseous every time I tried to eat. Most of the day was spent checking and rechecking my doorbell camera app to make sure I hadn’t missed any notifications. Thankfully, I was able to fall asleep that night. But it was a sleep full of nightmares, and I still felt exhausted the next morning. Fear was the only thing keeping me going at this point. I somehow made it through the day. Work was out of the question, so I just mindlessly watched TV, waiting for something to happen, although nothing did. I fell into bed, exhausted from constantly being on alert, to be met with another night of disturbing dreams.
The next day, I tried to work, but I was so jittery that it was hard to focus. I forced myself to eat a yogurt, despite the protests of my nervous stomach. I settled into the couch afterwards, picking up my knitting and trying to get lost in the familiar rerun of a favorite show.
I was able to relax a bit, as the repetitive motions of knitting released tension I had been holding in my body. It helped that I had the security of the doorbell camera, and I regretted not getting it sooner.
After a few hours, I made myself a simple sandwich for lunch. I was midway through when a notification for the doorbell camera went off. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was just the mailman. I waited until he drove off in his mail truck to retrieve my mail, and did so as quickly as possible, still paranoid that there could be eyes on me.
I quickly rifled through the mail, even though I knew there wouldn’t be another anonymous letter. I felt like I was hit by a mack truck when I saw another letter with my name and address printed in the front, exactly the way it had before. But this time, the letter was stamped and postmarked.
I told myself that it couldn’t possibly be from the same person. It was probably an innocent solicitor letter. That didn’t stop my hands from trembling when I ripped open the envelope. My blood ran cold when I saw the typed letter.
You think you’re smart setting up a camera, but that can’t stop me. Soon, I’ll give you what you deserve. You’re a murderer and you need to pay.
My hand grasped the letter so hard that it was half-crumpled. I grabbed the envelope and checked the postmark. Cold fear gripped me when I saw the zip code was the same as mine. That’s why the letter had gotten to me so quickly. That meant they were near. And they had to be watching me, if they knew I had put a camera up.
I shoved the letter back in the envelope, and put it in the drawer in the kitchen where I had put the previous letter. I sat at the kitchen table, my head in my hands. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to the police because how would I explain being called a murderer? Jason immediately came to my mind, but that wasn’t possible either. I would never tell him what had really happened with Keith.
I wracked my brain, trying to think of who could possibly be sending me the letters, but I came up empty. There was no way anyone could know what really happened with Keith. But apparently there was. And whoever it was wanted to scare me and wanted revenge. So it had to be someone with a connection to him. But who? He had no family except for a sister that he hadn’t talked to for over a decade due to a falling out. I had known of no friends of his while he was alive. He had spent all his time with my mother.
I had no leads. What would I do even if I did have one? There was nothing I could do without admitting my guilt. And I wasn’t ever planning on doing that. What I had done had haunted me for these past three years. But I didn’t regret what I had done. Yes, it was horrifying to kill a person. I felt guilt and shame for it, but I would do it again. The evil on Keith’s face, and his confidence that he would get away with murdering my mother, convinced me that I needed to make sure he didn’t get away with it. It made me wonder if maybe I was evil, too.
My phone started ringing, and I looked down to see that it was Jason. I badly wanted to answer the phone, to tell him everything that happened, and ask him to stay with me. But I knew that was stupid. If Jason ever found out what had happened, he would want nothing to do with me.
I let the call go to voicemail, and then listened to it after it was done recording.
Hi, Daphne. I was just calling to see if you were okay. You didn’t say much when I texted you the other day. Call me back.
I should have known my terse “ Fine ” to his text would arouse his worry. I needed to be more careful. I waited about fifteen minutes and texted him.
Sorry, missed your call because I was on a work call. I’m fine. Just swamped with work. Will reach out soon.
I reread the text several times before sending it to him. I wanted to make sure I sounded normal, and nothing would arouse suspicion.
I waited a few moments to see if he would text back, and when he didn’t, I put my phone away. Working was out of the question. There was no way I could concentrate. I was just lucky that the deadline for my latest project wasn’t for a while. I couldn’t even focus on knitting, so I just turned the TV on, letting the familiar voices keep me company while my mind raced on who could have sent the letters and what I should do about it.
I finally concluded there was nothing I could do. I just had to hope that whoever had sent the letters would soon tire of scaring me and leave me alone. And if they really intended to do something to me, there was nothing I could do to stop them.
I felt powerless, but the life I was currently living didn’t even seem worthwhile. I had gotten a peak of happiness with Jason’s arrival, but that was short-lived. And it only made the absence of him even more painful.