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
Dad pats my leg again, and this time it looks and feels more natural. He stands up. “Look, I’m going to call that therapist, the one you talked to when you were in the hospital. You liked her, right? You can’t go through all this without professional help.”
“Dad, that’s not—”
“No argument,” he says. “I’ll only be gone a few hours. Call if you need anything. And I mean anything.”
“I will.”
And then he’s out the door.
Twenty-Eight
With Dad and Olivia gone, the house feels quiet. Too quiet. Who ever thought I’d miss Livvy’s chattering, swirling energy so much?
My mind starts to race the way it did when I was a kid and saw something scary in a movie or on TV. I go through every inch of the house, making sure all the doors are locked. I check the windows, too, thinking how close it was the other night at Daniel’s house. Someone killed him right after I left.
If I’d still been there…
Is that what Dad was thinking about this morning?
Maybe I should have gone to work with him. But I don’t want to act like a scared little kid.
Just because it’s part of the morning routine and a distraction, I fill a bowl with cereal. I’m tempted to check my phone to see what’s been said about the latest video, but it’s the last thing I need. Nothing online could possibly be helpful.
So why did I even post the video?
I pour milk, dig in with my spoon.
Maybe because I want to be heard. Maybe because I want people to know there’s a real person on the other end of this story, someone who loved Chloe and Daniel. Someone who wants to know what happened just as much as everybody else.
Someone whose own mind is working against him. Why the fuck can’t I remember?
Did I black out at Daniel’s house, too…? The thought makes me shiver.
The cereal is mushy and bland. Before I can dump it down the sink, someone knocks on the back door.
I jump what feels like three feet in the air. The spoon goes tumbling off the edge of the bowl, sending up a spray of milk.
My heart thumps inside my chest like a crazed bird trying to escape. My phone is upstairs. The landline is here, the one that’s tormented me with nasty messages. What would they think if I dialed 911? The kid at the heart of two major crimes calling the police because someone is at the door?
The knocking again.
I grab a knife from the block. It’s a giant one my parents received as a wedding present. Dad never cooks. He’s probably never touched it. Could I actually use it? Drive this steel blade into someone’s body? Could I?