If my life was a thriller movie, now would be the time for the scene before the climax to unfold, one in which I, the protagonist, aka the good guy who can’t stop meddling into other people’s business for the life of him, breaks into a sprint to chase the antagonist down the street as an alternative pop song with high tempo (preferably one by Arctic Monkeys) goes off in the background.

               In real life, however, I am finding it very hard to even breathe, let alone move at the moment.

               “Stevie?” Andy leans forward, her green eyes flickering between Keith and me. “What’s wrong?”

               “We have to go somewhere.” My voice is quiet, barely above a whisper when I reach for her hand.

               “There will be no need for that.” Keith interjects.

               “What do you mean?”

               “Sit down, please. There is something you should know.”

               “Keith.” I bite down on my tongue. “Now is not the time to mess with me.”

               Keith sighs and a moment later, pulls something out from the pocket of his sweats. It’s the pendant. Andy lets out a gasp.

               “I can explain.” He starts, but his voice is turned off by a sudden, sharp ringing in my ears. Suddenly, I am hyper aware of everything in the room. The graffiti on the walls, the ticking of the grandfather’s clock, the bead of sweat running down Keith’s neck. Everything.

               It happens like this: Crime loving teen prodigy Keith Smith Jr., who aspires to become a top-notch journalist one day, decides to focus his Senior Capstone Project on an unsolved mystery revolving around his small town. What begins as a simple proposal quickly turns into an in-depth investigation full of unexpected twists and turns, and soon, our wannabe sleuth finds himself spiraling into a web of danger and obsession, and is ultimately forced to make a choice.

               “I wanted her to confess.” Keith pauses. “I had everything I needed for my project and for her to spend the rest of her life behind the bars, but I wanted her to get into details. There was something missing. I didn’t understand the ‘why’ of it. And I wanted to. So I asked her to meet me.”

               “You are sick.” I spit the words at him.

               “I swear I was going to expose her!” Keith argues, beat. Never have I seen him so vulnerable, void of his charm and confidence. There was no way this boy standing in front of me and the Keith I knew were one. Then again, I never really knew him. So it feels good to see him so broken, so goddamn helpless. He deserves it.

               “Then why didn’t you?” Andy retorts, raising her voice. Keith stops pacing the room.

               “She threatened to kill Kevin. She said that would make me understand the ‘why’ of it. It’s just him and I—it’s been him and I for as long as I remember. He’s the only one left whom I can call family. Celestine had one more person to kill, James Kurt, and if I kept quiet, she said she wouldn’t hurt Kevin. I didn’t trust her, obviously, but I had dug my own grave. So we came to an agreement, the terms of which were simple: I were to forget that we ever met, and throw the sniffers—if any—off the scent to the best of my abilities. And in return, she wouldn’t hurt Kev.”

               “On your first night here, I overheard your conversation with Andy when I came back for her. Please understand I had little choice but to inform her. You had to be dealt with. You had to leave. It was nothing personal.”

               “I hacked into your phone when you connected to the diner’s WiFi—yes, I was the guy behind the counter. I called you pretending to be Kurt.”

               “God, I feel so, so, so stupid.” I pull at my hair. “Give me one good reason to not kill you this instant.”

               Keith opens his mouth, then closes it shut. A vein pops out in his neck.

               “At the lake, it was her.” I state.

               “Yes, but you already had that figured when you saw the picture.”

               Andy frowns. “How were you able to even pull off something like that?”

               “Hypnosis.” Keith answers. “She hypnotised Stevie when those two met.”

               I don’t even know if I am capable of feeling anything anymore. The sheer brilliancy and ridiculousness of all this is just too much.

               “Was that whole accident orchestrated or what?” I ask Keith, getting up from his bed, feeling this need to just do something.

               “No.” His face twists, “You were never supposed to meet. But you did. She saw her chance, and she made her move.”

               I am about to cry. I am so, so goddamn close to crouching on the floor and crying myself to sleep. And killing him. That’s the priority.

               Keith takes a step in my direction. “We just wanted to scare you away, Stevie.”

               Yes, because that makes it okay to mess with my head.

               I grab him by his collar. “That’s what you have been doing to the other reporters so far, haven’t you?”

               He nods. I punch him square in the face.

               “Stevie, no.” Andy pulls at my sleeve. The next few seconds are a blur.

               I close my eyes and wish for him to be gone when I open them. It does not work. All parts of me want to scream and lash out and hurt him in every way possible. My fingers twitch against the fabric of Keith’s stupid band tee shirt, senses ready for a fight. But it just doesn’t come. He deserves it, and yet he doesn’t.

               I shove him away from me, and slump on the floor on my knees.

               “What about Celestine?” I manage to get the words out. “Where is she?”

               Keith coughs and then walks to his desk. He shuffles through some books and papers, and picks up a manila envelope.

               Offering it to Andy, he says: “Everything you need for your coverage is here. You won’t find her, if she doesn’t want to be found. You have uh, you have lost the element of surprise. But she wanted you to have this, for your troubles.”

               His words make me angrier, and I didn’t know that was possible. “I know I won’t find her, but the law will.”

               “And boy, you are so going down too,” Andy adds with an exasperated expression, taking the envelope from Keith. “Unless you switch sides, starting this instant, and tell us how we can get to her.”

               Keith shakes his head. “The first time we met, I had sent her a text; the same one she’d sent to those M.P. so she would take me seriously. But that was the only time I called the shots. If any contact is to be made, she’s the one who reaches out.”

               “The message. What was it?” I ask.

               “‘I know your secret. Guess we will have to meet now. Come to where it all began.’”

               Andy scoffs. “And people would actually reply to that?”

               Keith shrugs. “Paranoia gets the best of people. Especially of those who have something to hide.”

               “Poetic, that.” Andy sasses, because old habits die hard, even in times of adversity. “Now how about you give us her number?”

               Keith gives us a sad smile. “Check your phone, Stevie.”

               “What?”

               He sighs. “Your phone.”

               Not breaking eye contact with him, I pull out my phone and unlock it. There’s a new iMessage from Unknown. I open the text, and then instantly wish I hadn’t.

              Now you know my secret, Stevie. Guess we will have to meet. Your place, or mine? —C.