Chapter 17 – Sarah Pushes Back
Chapter 17 – Sarah Pushes Back
Sarah sat at the kitchen table, her fingers curled around a mug of coffee she had reheated twice already. The steam rose in weak spirals, carrying the bitter scent of scorched grounds. She had not slept again. Not properly. Every time she closed her eyes, the subject line burned behind her eyelids.
YOU’RE NEXT.
The email had no sender. No text. Just those two words.
And she had not told Emily, Not yet.
Sarah’s jaw ached from clenching, and she forced her shoulders down, willing herself to relax as Emily paced the length of the living room like a caged animal.
“You are not listening to me,” Emily hissed, running both hands through her hair. “I saw them. A bracelet, an earring, things that i know did not belong to him. Sarah, it was a box of trophies. He is keeping trophies! And this is not the first time i had seen that box.”
Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before she answered. “Em… do you hear yourself? You broke into his apartment. At night.... Alone.”
Emily froze mid-step, turning, her expression raw and defiant. “Because no one else believes me. What was I supposed to do? Sit around while he... while he plans his next victim?”
Sarah’s gut twisted, but she pushed down the flicker of sympathy. She needed to be the anchor here, not the storm. “Do you realize how dangerous that was? What if Alex had a gun? What if he had panicked and thought you were a burglar? He could have shot you, and no one would have blamed him.”
Emily flinched but lifted her chin. “Then at least someone would have known I was telling the truth.”
The words hit Sarah like a punch. She set the mug down before she crushed it in her hands. “Jesus, Emily. That is not proof, that is suicide.”
Emily’s shoulders trembled. Her eyes shone, glassy with frustration and exhaustion. “You do not get it. He is playing with me. He knows I know. And if I do not do something, he is going to—” She broke off, biting her lip until it whitened.
Sarah softened, rising from her chair. She wanted to cross the space, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay. But the journalist in her... the rational part refused to cross that line.
“Listen to me,” Sarah said carefully, keeping her voice even. “I am not saying you are wrong. I am saying you are crossing lines that could get you killed. If Alex really is who you think he is, you walking into his home uninvited was the worst thing you could have done.”
Emily’s mouth opened, then closed. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “So what.... Do you think I am paranoid? You think I am making it all up?”
Sarah’s chest tightened. “I think…” She hesitated, searching for words that wouldn’t break the fragile thread between them. “…I think you are terrified, and you have every reason to be. But I also think fear makes us see shadows where there might not be any.”
Emily let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Shadows? He caught me, Sarah. I was standing in his room, staring at the evidence, and he.. he looked at me Like it was a game.”
The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Sarah swallowed hard. The memory of her own inbox flickered in her mind, the message no one else had seen.
Maybe Emily was not wrong. Maybe there really was something in the shadows.
Sarah rubbed at her temples. “Em… there is something I need to tell you.”
Emily’s head snapped up. “What?”
Sarah hesitated, her throat tight. She had kept it to herself for days, convincing herself she did not want to feed Emily’s obsession. But if she stayed silent any longer, she was no better than the people dismissing her friend as unstable.
She walked back to her laptop, opened the lid, and pulled up the email. The screen glowed, stark and accusing.
“There was no sender,” Sarah said quietly. “No text in the body. Just this.”
Emily leaned forward, her breath shallow as she read the subject line. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Sarah forced the words out before she lost her nerve. “I did not want to scare you. But I got it three nights ago. And I can not trace it. It just… appeared.”
Emily’s eyes shimmered with tears. “Sarah, that is him. That is the killer. Don’t you see? He is not just after me anymore. He is also after you.”
The air between them vibrated with unspoken terror. Sarah’s pulse raced in her ears. She wanted to dismiss it, to cling to logic and tell Emily there was an explanation. But looking at her friend’s face, at the trembling hands and wide, desperate eyes, the enail on hr laptop with no trace of a sender, she could not.
“I am scared too,” Sarah admitted, the words tasting foreign on her tongue.
Emily reached for her, gripping her hand tight. “Then believe me. Please, Sarah. Before it is too late.”
\~~~
The conversation lingered like smoke between them, even hours later. Sarah had tried to distract Emily with dinner, then wine, but nothing eased the tension coiled in her chest. Emily drifted into restless silence, staring out the window like she expected Alex or someone worse to materialize in the shadows.
By the time Sarah finally walked Emily to bed, the clock blinked past two. She lingered in the kitchen afterward, trying to quiet her own spinning thoughts.
The email.... Emily’s break-in.... The necklace.... The missing surveillance.
Pieces of a puzzle she could not quite force to fit.
Her body screamed for sleep, but her nerves were electric. She grabbed her keys instead, muttering to herself that she needed air, needed to drive, to clear her head.
The apartment complex’s lot was nearly empty when she stepped outside, the air crisp, smelling faintly of rain. Her car sat under a flickering lamp post.
Until she got closer.
Her footsteps slowed. Her chest tightened.
There, resting in the center of her windshield, was a single red rose.
Its petals were vivid against the glass, almost glowing under the weak yellow light.
Sarah froze, her keys slipping from her hand and clattering to the pavement.
Her breath turned to ice.
The silence of the night pressed in.
And in that silence, Sarah knew without question that she and Emily was not imagining monsters.
The monster was real.