Page 120 of The Invite
This is me atoning for the sin I committed against her.
P.S. Dead bodies stay buried, secrets don’t. XO.
The XO gives Anonymous away. He sounds like a serial killer on the loose.
Is it someone from the school? A student? A teacher? A guard?
It’s a needle-in-a-haystack type situation.
If only fate would drop a clue that could point me in their direction. Do good guys never win?
Are you one of them, though?
The sinister voice from my past perks up from the deep recesses of my soul, sending a trickle of fear down my spine. I swallow and hammer it back down.
I’m a good person, I remind myself.
Flipping my phone, I click the picture of the confession. I also snap several shots from around the room. I’ll look at them for a lead once I’m in the right frame of mind. I’m also going to compare the handwriting on today’s note and the wall. It was a rookie mistake Anonymous made.
Nothing left for me to see here, I stroll down the aisle toward the door. I’m halfway there when I think I hear a very fainttap, tapnoise.
Am I imagining it?
Is it a mouse?
I take another step when it comes louder and nearer. I gasp and stagger backward when it’s the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Not one, but two.
Oh shit! Did guards finally come to patrol the school?
I rub my mouth and flicker my gaze around. Should I hide underneath a desk? What if I get locked in here?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My petrified eyes land on a door at the back of the classroom. How strange that I never caught it before. I dart toward it without a second thought. Luckily, it’s open. I push through, praying it doesn’t squeak. I get inside just as the footsteps step into the class one after the other.
I’m too shaken to notice what sort of room it is.
I press my ear against the wooden door and listen.
“Motherfucker…” the voice whispers.
Too faint for me to tell if it’s a guard or somebody else.
One of them keeps circling in the aisles and taps on the desks. Obviously, they’re not worried about getting caught, casually rapping on the surface as if out for a casual walk in the park.
“Don’t touch anything!” the second person snaps.
They don’t sound like the guards. Good Lord! Is it the killer? Are there two of them? Of course nobody would dare to assume two people can be behind the murder.
My heart lurches to my throat.
I can’t let them catch me unless I wish to die.
“This wasn’t a random kill, brother.”
Wait… Why does that voice sound familiar?
“Nor the killer’s first rodeo.”
