Fear Games

11. Revelations

"ISAIAH IS THE KILLER."

It was a few hours later. Esme and I were sitting on my bed and I had finally managed to get the words out. Isaiah was the killer. He set up the traps at Fear Games. He was the one who invited us. Isaiah was the blame for all of this.

"There's gotta be some sort of explanation," Esme said, grabbing hold of my hand. "We've known Isaiah for years. There's no way he would..." Her voice trailed, cut off from the tears that were getting ready to fall from her eyes. She didn't believe what she was saying, either.

"You saw the pictures," I said. "Regardless of whether there's a reason, he tried to kill us." I pulled out the pictures and said, "Here's this one of Isaiah putting the spikes in the bathroom that Victoria fell on. Here's him opening the trapdoor. Here's him rigging the stairs that Harper and Adrian fell down. He's the one who did all this. Isaiah tried to kill us and is still trying, hiding in plain sight." Saying it out loud was terrifying. Our ally in all of this. Our friend. Someone we knew for as long as we could remember.

"I just...don't get why," Esme said. "It doesn't make any sense, does it?"

Of course it didn't, but it was true. We couldn't deny it. "What we need is to figure out what we're going to do about it. I could confront him, but that'd be dangerous."

"Or maybe that's exactly what you have to do," Esme said.

I laid my head on my pillow, trying to remind myself of all the good times I shared with Isaiah before all the drama. And now? Now there was nothing. Now he was a cold-blooded murderer and he had to be stopped. "You're right, but how am I going to do that? It seems like he's always on top of things. If we go to the police, he'll probably know."

"One thing is for sure, and that is that Isaiah didn't leave you those pictures," Esme said. "Remember the day before we went to Fear Games and someone left a note telling you not to go? What if that same person left you these pictures?"

I hadn't even thought of that, but it would definitely make sense. "Well, whoever they are, I'm grateful that they're doing it. How long do you think it'll be before Isaiah figures out that we know?"

"I don't really know," Esme said. "We have to come up with a plan. Fast."

I nodded. "What else is new?"

***

Esme and I almost skipped school, but we realized it was probably best to go and keep pretending like everything was okay. Isaiah would know something was up if we didn't go. The day was slow, and when it was finally over, I texted Ryan telling him to meet me at my house.

As Esme and I were walking to my car, I saw Isaiah leaning up against it.

"Hello, ladies," he said, not smiling. "Can I talk to you?"

The question was clearly directed at me. "No, thank you," I said, opening my door. Pushing my anxiety down, I added, "It'd be great if you could get off my car."

Isaiah didn't move. Instead, he smiled a little. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For overreacting about you being with Ryan."

"Why?" I asked. I sat down in my seat, closing the door behind me, making sure to lock it. I rolled down my window so I could hear his answer.

"Because I want to be friends," Isaiah said. "Why else?"

Did he know that I knew his secret? My hands shook as I grabbed the steering wheel. Esme observed the whole situation from the passenger seat, not saying a word, but she looked frightened.

"I have to go," I said, turning on the ignition.

"Rachel, please wait a second," he said, grabbing onto the door.