Chapters (95)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Video #1
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Video #2
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Video #3
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- The Final Video
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“Hi,” I say, before realizing how simple that sounds. “My name is Hunter Gifford. I’m seventeen years old. A senior. I don’t know, maybe a lot of you already know who I am. I guess everything that happened has been in the news. That’s why I’ve stopped looking at my phone. Or talking to anybody. Or maybe they’ve stopped talking to me. I’m not really sure. But it has the same effect. Normally, I like to write things down to make sense of my life, but I haven’t been able to write since the accident. I just stare at the blank page and nothing comes out. So I decided to give this a try.”
I clear my throat and watch the red light. My face looks even whiter than when the video started…if that’s possible.
I remind myself to keep talking.
“I’m making this video because of all the things that happened that night. Because of the accident. And because my girlfriend, Chloe Summers, hasn’t been seen since then. A whole week ago. She was in the car that night, but no one has seen or heard from her since. I guess I should back up. I think she was in the car that night. She should have been. We’ve been dating. We went to homecoming together.” I try to swallow again, but I can’t produce any spit. “We went everywhere together. So I assume we left the dance together, but I don’t know for sure. Because of the accident, and what happened to my head…”
I see myself point to the bandage. My movements look awkward, but I don’t want to stop and start over. If I stop, I may not start again.
“I don’t remember the accident. I don’t remember much of that night. There are holes—blind spots I just can’t see. And that means I don’t know what caused the accident. Or what happened to Chloe. The police told me we drove into a tree in Dad’s Charger, and somehow I ended up at the hospital. The truth is, no one even knows how I got there. The police think a Good Samaritan found me dazed, wandering on the side of the road, and dropped me off. But Chloe was gone. Everything she had with her—her purse, her phone, even her shoes—was still in the car. But no Chloe. Gone without a trace. That’s what they keep saying on the news.”
My mouth is dry, and my lips look like cracked pottery, but I need to finish.