Three months ago, four kids were run off the road by a drunk driver and pronounced dead at the scene, leaving their families to grieve and wonder why accidents had to happen.
The four left behind families, and namely, five specific siblings: all sen...
Michael walked in and locked the door behind him—less because he was intent on obeying the stalker's orders and more so because he didn't want the stalker to spring in behind him. He was too tired and injured to be able to fend anyone off.
His head still hurt and he felt like he had a permanent headache. Looking at anything in direct light made his eyes feel as though he was looking right at the sun in the middle of July, and his entire body felt weaker than he was used to.
Overall, not the best night for him to be messed with whatsoever.
Michael looked at the wall directly across from him; the room was dimly lit but it was clear that there were two different papers hanging on the wall: one was some sort of official document and the other a screenshot of a text chain.
Michael slowly walked closer until he could make out what each individual paper said. Reading made his head feel like a hammer was pounding against it, but he managed to fight through the pain enough to read what was on the wall—making his chest tighten and the pain in his head feel miniscule compared to the damage he knew these documents could do.
To the right was a copy of a restraining order, only partly filled out: only the last name of the person it was being filed against was there.
Hadden.
Michael remembered Jordan's words about what she had found in Erin's room from one of the first nights that their dysfunctional little murderer-hunting group had gotten together.
"It was a restraining order. And I'm not sure who it was against. She didn't fill it out all the way, and the only thing on it was the last name. It was Hadden."
Michael knew which Hadden the order was going to be filed against. And the text messages to the left of the restraining order proved that without a shadow of a doubt. It was a screenshot taken from Erin's phone, in a conversation with Michael himself.
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Michael remembered that night. The night that those texts were sent, the night that landed Mary in the hospital. He remembered it like it was yesterday. And still, it brought a blind rage to him to even remember that Erin Green existed at all.
***
"She told her, Mary. She told her and I'm not letting her get away with it."
"Calm down, Michael. I mean...Rachel was going to find out sooner or later."
"No, she wasn't. That's the whole point." Michael shook his head, the headlights from the cars going in the other direction blinding him every other second. "I'm hanging up now. You can't change my mind."
"Michael—"
He hit the 'end call' button and put his phone on the empty passenger's seat beside him. He could see the Green's mansion up ahead, towering over everything around it. Seeing it made his mind go red with rage. Seeing anything related to the whore who had just ruined his entire life made him want to die.
