Page 38 of Silent Trail

"Stop lying, Kyle," she said, her voice like ice. "Tell us the truth."

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room. Kyle's eyes darted around, as if searching for someone to intervene, to free him from this relentless interrogation. Then, looking utterly defeated, he lowered his gaze to the stark white sheets covering his bruised body.

"I couldn't take it anymore," he admitted, his voice cracking with shame. "The humiliation, the constant torment...I was going to kill myself." He swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill over. "I meant to drive right into the ravine, but I hit a tree instead. That's what the 'TERRIBLE SOMETHING' in the note to my parents was about."

A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside Kyle's bed. Sheila exchanged a somber look with Finn and Natalie, the weight of Kyle's confession pressing down on them all.

Kyle laughed bitterly. "I couldn't even kill myself properly. How pathetic is that?"

"For what it's worth," Sheila said, "I don't think you killed anyone. But the only way we can be sure of that is if you cooperate with us. You don't want your friends and family thinking you're a murderer, do you?"

Kyle stared at her, chewing his lip. He seemed to be caught between a rock and a hard place.

Natalie cleared her throat. "We still need proof of those posts you wrote, Kyle. Can you show us?"

Kyle stared at Sheila a few seconds longer before coming to a decision. Taking a shaky breath, he nodded. "They're on my blog. You shouldn't have any trouble finding them." He gave Natalie the web address.

As Natalie pulled up the page on her phone, Sheila and Finn leaned in, their eyes scanning the screen.

There they were: the posts Kyle had written, full of cruel rumors about Jane Johnson and Ami Nasir. They contained threats, and even fake pictures of the girls making out with different students—a disturbing attempt at humiliating them like they had humiliated him.

As the three of them stood there, taking in the evidence of Kyle's twisted revenge, a chilling realization settled over Sheila. The depths of human cruelty seemed endless.

Sheila studied Kyle's face, searching for any hint of deception in his desperate eyes. The room felt colder now, the steady beeping of the heart monitor a chilling reminder of the fragile line between life and death.

"Kyle," she began, "we need to know where you were earlier this evening. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?"

"Y-yes," he stammered, his hands twisting the thin hospital sheets. "I was in my room, in my parents' basement, all day until I went for that drive."

"Can your parents confirm that?" Sheila asked, watching him closely.

He nodded, desperation seeping into his voice. "Yes, they were home all day. They can vouch for me."

Finn stepped forward, his brow furrowed in suspicion. "But your parents didn't even notice when you drove off, did they? There's no telling when you might have left."

A flicker of panic crossed Kyle's face, and he licked his dry lips. "No, but I swear I was there! Please, you have to believe me."

The room seemed to close in around them, the shadows cast by the dim hospital light growing darker with each passing second. Sheila could feel the uncertainty gnawing at her insides, leaving her torn between wanting to believe Kyle's story and the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.

She glanced at Finn and Natalie, their expressions mirroring her own inner turmoil. As the silence stretched on, Sheila found herself grappling with questions she couldn't answer, pulled in different directions by the need for justice and the fear of condemning an innocent man.

"Please," Kyle whispered again, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. "I didn't kill anyone. I just wanted to die."

But was he telling the truth? Or was this just another lie? Sheila didn't know.

She did know one thing for certain, however. They needed to get to the bottom of this soon, because if the real killer was still out there, there was no telling when he might strike again.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Sheila leaned against the cold hospital wall outside Kyle's room, her eyelids heavy and her body aching for rest. She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the dull throbbing pain that had taken residence in her head. The fluorescent lights above cast an unforgiving glare on her face, highlighting the exhaustion etched into her features.

"Are we sure we're not just chasing our tails here?" she asked Natalie and Finn, who flanked her in the hallway. "I mean, what if Kyle isn't our guy?"

Finn crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in thought. "His alibi certainly doesn't hold water. He could've slipped out of his house without his parents noticing, not to mention the fact that he's been lying to us from the start."

As Natalie maneuvered her wheelchair closer, Sheila couldn't help but admire her sister's determination. Despite her own physical challenges, Natalie always seemed to carry on without complaint. "The question is how much he's lied, and whether or not he's still lying," Natalie said. "We need to go back to his room and investigate more carefully for any clues that might suggest he's the killer."

Sheila shifted her weight, feeling the familiar sting of sibling rivalry bite at her. She wanted to prove herself, to be as useful and vital to this investigation as her decorated sister. But her body was rebelling against her, every muscle screaming for the sweet release of sleep.

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