Page 105 of Death and Do-Overs

“Or seek me out elsewhere,” she said.

“I agree to never see you again anywhere,” I said.

She chuckled. “Now you’re pushing your luck.”

“Because it sounds like you think you’ll never die,” Imogen said to me, with a grin that suggested she was pleased to help with what she’d assumed was my dim-witted lack of understanding.

“This way.” Bernadette led us across her small backyard to the freestanding garage.

Apparently, she meant to show us her golf cart. I couldn’t imagine how that, or anything else she kept inside, could possibly aid in our search for the truth.

As the electric doors slowly lifted, a room was revealed. It wasn’t a garage, but an actual room, decorated like a cozy den that belonged inside of a home.

“This is nice,” Imogen said.

Bernadette grumbled something I couldn't make out.

There was a large desk that bore multiple computer monitors. A large sofa and a couple of bean bag chairs completed the furnishings.

“Why put your desk out here instead of inside the house?” Imogen asked.

My attention was still stuck on the bean bag chairs, which belonged only in a college dorm room.

“My design choices aren’t relevant to your query.” Bernadette wiggled the computer mouse, and the screens lit up.

The screens were sectioned into squares, each with black and white video running. It appeared the images were taken from security cameras all around Nevermore.

Frustration struck me first, the innate feeling of discomfort knowing someone had been watching my movements ever since I’d set foot in Nevermore.

“What is this?” I asked.

“These are my stories,” Bernadette said. “You may see what you wish, and then you will leave me to enjoy them in peace.”

Not only did Bernadette have access to all of my movements, but everyone’s, including Nie’s. So much for Bernadette not “burdening herself with the unnecessary details” of other peoples’ lives.

“Are they your cameras?” I asked. “Did you plant them all over town?”

“No,” Bernadette said.

“How did you gain access, then?” I asked.

Bernadette didn’t answer.

“We need to find Nie,” Imogen said. “We have to see everything that happened to her.”

Bernadette pressed her lips together. “Fine. But if you screw anything up,I will kill you.”

A shiver carried down my spine in a way that was only possible under the damning tone of a reaper’s threat.

“Gulp.” Imogen actually said the word instead of simply doing so. “We’ll be respectful, right, Greta?”

“Sure.”

Bernadette showed me how to work her set-up. As we worked, she watched us for a while, stamping her foot with increasing agitation.

We couldn’t leave until we’d uncovered every possible nugget of information.

I found myself with Imogen walking all around town. I found myself with Levi, back when I was still a part of Mar. And I found the two of them after.

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