I began to drag the bar around to different portions of the night, but nothing changed. Just the same shot, every now and then showing someone walk by. Dragging the bar again, I searched for what she could’ve cut and felt myself start to get impatient.

What am I missing?

I needed more time. I could email the video to myself, but then there’d be a record of me breaking into Bolton’s place. Taking a breath to calm myself down, I placed the video at the halfway mark and then fast-forwarded, watching as the image on the screen shook. I got to the part where Hooks walked toward the building as we saw at the station. The video wobbled for another minute or so as it sped through the night, and then suddenly—

I saw a figure move past the camera in the opposite direction.

I froze, reaching out and tapping the space bar quickly to pause the video. My heart was racing as I dragged the bar back and maximized the screen. When I saw the figure on the screen, I pressed Play.

It was a man, walking away from Emma’s apartment with his head down and shoulders slumped.

Hooks.

Walking back the way he’d come, just a few minutes or so after he arrived.

There was a loud noise from the living room, and I gasped, stepping back. I froze for a moment and then closed the video screen and the laptop.

I was holding my breath and praying that I had made it up when I heard voices.

“I’m supposed to be at work. They really need me today,” Bolton said. “I don’t know why this couldn’t wait until later.”

“I know, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

Emma.

“I’ll give you a ride to the shelter. I’m so glad I ran into you, because this is really important. I need to see that footage you showed me yesterday.”

“I sent it to you!”

“I know,” she said. “I just need to check something out from one of the other days. Please. It will only take a second, and then I’ll take you to work.”

I stood there paralyzed for a few moments as I heard them walking toward the bedroom.

She was going to delete it.

I grabbed the laptop, raced across the room as quietly as possible, and stepped into Bolton’s open closet. I pulled it closed just as the door to the bedroom opened and they walked inside. I opened my mouth and took in long gulps of air, certain I would pass out if I didn’t just breathe.

I needed air.

Think, Paula.

I watched them through one of the slats in the closet door.

“Well, if it’s so important, go ahead,” Bolton said, gesturing toward the dresser. “Then we need to hustle. I don’t want to be late.”