THE WALL BEHIND

THE WALL BEHIND
“A video”.

Grainy, but clear enough. Of my father. Of his side profile. Arguing with my mom. Then something crashed. Then… nothing.

She looked away for a moment, blinking hard.

Evelyn sat still, allowing the weight of what she had just heard to consume her.
“Did you tell the police then?”

“I didn’t trust them. But I trusted him.”

“Jake.”

Anise nodded again. “I called him the next day.

“And he came?”

“Oh… I went to meet him at his office.”

She exhaled, remembering more than just facts.

“He sat beside me. I handed him the flash driveand I told him what I saw. We watched it together, and I saw it again. The faint profile of my father’s face. Jake’s eyes didn’t move off the screen.”

“And what did he say?”

“He asked me if I was okay. I remember that specifically. He didn’t ask about the drive initially... That’s when I first started to see him.”

Evelyn said nothing.

“After that, we met a lot more. He kept me in the loop with what they found, though there was hardly anything to go on. The case felt like it was spiraling. They wanted to pin it on my father. I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t know who to believe.”

“And Jake?”

Anise’s mouth twitched into a small, almost wistful smile.

“He was… persistent. He checked on me. Called often and sometimes under the guise of updates, but most times to see if I’d eaten. Or if I’d slept.”

Evelyn said nothing, letting the silence expand.

“We had a thing,” Anise finally said, her tone shaded with melancholy. “One night, after we both worked late into the night trying to piece things together. He stayed. We ordered food, talked about anything but death. He kissed me.”

“Was that what you wanted?”

“I wanted to feel something other than grief. I wanted to feel like I wasn’t completely alone.”

“And did you?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “He was gentle. Thoughtful. Careful with me in a way no one had been in a long time. We made love that night, and I don’t even know if I was ready, but I needed to feel connected to someone.”

“And did he feel the same?”

Anise paused. “I don’t know. I thought he did. For a while.”

“And now?”

“Now?” Her voice hardened. “Now I’m not so sure.”

She lifted her chin, eyes meeting Evelyn’s.

“Because if he loved me and saw me, he wouldn’t have hidden things from me. He wouldn’t have buried leads or let me chase shadows.”

“You feel betrayed.”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean I stopped feeling.”

She drew in a breath, long and slow.

“He made me believe it was okay to start healing. And then he reminded me why it’s safer not to.”

Silence again. Evelyn finally said, “And what do you want now, Anise?”

Anise didn’t hesitate.

“I want to finish what my mother started. I want the truth. Even if it tears everything apart.”

The office felt heavier now. Not with noise, but with the weight of everything Anise had just unraveled. Evelyn’s pen idled on the yellow legal pad she barely touched during their session. Anise’s last words hung in the room, still vibrating softly in the air.

Anise looked down, fiddling with the bracelet around her wrist—Jake had unclasped it once, that night on that bed when everything felt safe. Or at least safer than the world she was returning to.

“We… we crossed a line, I think,” she said quietly. “It started as a date. Just a way to escape for a night. We laughed, we shared drinks. He said things I shouldn’t have let get to me. But they did.”

“Oh…we are back to Jake.”

She paused. The memory wasn’t just fresh—it was still bleeding.

“That night… we slept together. It wasn’t just sex,” she said, looking up now. “It felt like I was letting go. Like I was finally collapsing into someone who could carry all the things I’d been pretending didn’t exist.”

Evelyn didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

“And what happened after?”

Anise’s lips pressed into a thin line. She looked at the wall behind Evelyn, as if the answer was etched into the paint.

“It… ended.”

“Is it?”

Anise stared, but the answer was clear…clear enough.

“And how did that make you feel?”

That question.

That simple, goddamn question.

Anise let out a dry laugh. “Invisible. Like I had gone from being a grieving daughter chasing answers to some kind of emotional liability. I kept wondering if I imagined everything between us, if maybe it was convenient for him too, if I gave him the flash drive too soon.”

Evelyn scribbled something now.

“And what do you think now?”

“I think…” Anise hesitated. “I think I wanted him to be the person I could count on. But if he could keep something that important from me—even if it was by mistake—then maybe it wasn’t love. Maybe it was just… relief.”

A moment passed. And then Evelyn said gently, “You’ve been carrying the weight of truth, justice, grief… and love. No one was meant to carry all that alone, Anise.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“But the part I want you to hear right now is this: You are not a liability. You are the truth.”

Anise’s throat tightened.

Evelyn leaned in. “So what are you going to do with it?”

“I guess.. we will have to find out.”