𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝐾𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒚

John Crashaws pov (murderer #2)

"Rise and shine!" I called out, stepping into the room and flipping the lights on bright. It was eight in the morning-earlier than I planned, but I had whipped up a hefty breakfast: a fluffy stack of three pancakes, crispy bacon, and scrambled eggs.

She turned onto her side, curling up tighter, a muffled sniffle escaping her.

"Cara," I said softly, walking over to her. I set the tray down by the mattress, and she slowly turned to face me, her eyes puffy and red. It was clear she hadn't slept a wink.

"What?" Her voice was barely a whisper, weak and defeated.

"I brought you some food," I gestured toward the tray, hoping to coax her out of her funk.

She propped herself up awkwardly, crossing her arms over her stomach-a gesture I couldn't decipher. Instead of simply sitting to eat, she looked like she was about to cry.

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"Doesn't matter. You need to eat."

"I don't need to do anything... you've already trapped me here. What more do you want?" Her voice sharpened with anger. I didn't take her sass lightly. Instead of backing down, I walked onto the mattress, disregarding my expensive shoes. Standing on each side of her, I bent down to meet her gaze head-on.

"I want you to eat. You think if I wanted to make you suffer, I'd feed you and give you clothes and pads? I could have let you starve, but I decided to be nice-"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you for kidnapping me and being generous," she replied, dripping with sarcasm. Frustration boiling over, I yanked her by the front of her shirt, pulling her close, my grip tightening.

Her eyes widened in shock, fear flickering across her face.

"You don't want the nice guy anymore? Fine." I shoved her back, and she hit the wall with a thud, an expression of shock mingling with trepidation as she stared at me while scrambling for the tray of food I'd prepared especially for her.

Ungrateful.

I marched into the bathroom and dumped all the food into the toilet, watching it swirl away before flushing. A smirk crept onto my face-she wanted me to be the bad guy, so I was happy to oblige. If she didn't appreciate what I offered, she didn't deserve it.

"I... I'm sorry," her voice trembled, and I turned around to find her buried in her hands, on the verge of tears.

"Don't start-"

"I'm sorry... this is all my fault..." She broke down completely, sobs wracking her body. I sighed heavily, grabbing the empty tray and stepping out of the room, not caring that she was crying again. It had only been a day, and she'd already shed more tears than I had in my lifetime. What could she possibly do?

I locked the door behind me and flopped down on the couch, peering through the window at her. She sat hunched, clutching her stomach as tears spilled continuously from her eyes. If I were a decent human being, I would feel something for her plight, but instead, I found a disturbing sense of satisfaction in watching her.

"Hey," Travis said, descending the stairs, holding his mask in hand. He hadn't said much after taking her to the shower, and I didn't pry-whatever had happened wasn't really my business.

"Hey," I nodded, keeping my eyes on Cara.

"She eat?" He plopped down on the couch beside me, and I shook my head, crossing my arms.

"Nothing. Just been crying all night and then burst into tears again," I said with a hint of satisfaction, perhaps a smile creeping onto my face.

"That's what happens during a period, right? Apparently, women get super emotional," he remarked. I raised my eyebrows, surprised.

"What I read about it," he laughed, and I couldn't help but chuckle along. My brother might be clueless sometimes, but occasionally his knowledge proved useful.

"Do we really need to wear these masks? If we're not letting her go, why bother?" he asked, contemplatively. I considered his words carefully and nodded.

"I guess not. I wanted to keep our identities a secret, but... whatever." I shrugged, pulling the mask off and tossing it aside, appreciating the fresh air that swept over my face.

Travis followed suit, setting his mask down before looking over at Cara with a flicker of concern-though deep down, I knew he likely didn't care. I certainly didn't.