𝐬𝐮𝗺𝗺𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
After coming home one night from sneaking out to a party, seventeen year old Sabrina finds her mother, father, and sister dead. While FBI agent David Rossi investigates this case, he cracks it a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Spencer Reid
october 31
they've stolen something from me. halloween isn't the only day you should be frightened.
november 26th
the day for giving thanks has left me empty because of them, and now you. I'll never be full.
december 25th
there are no gifts to give because of what they have stolen from me. you don't deserve to have it either.
"What does he mean by stolen from me? " I asked out loud as I read over the letters Sabrina had recently received, mentally comparing the two to each other.
"I didn't know back then, and I still don't know now," she replied quietly. I looked up at her and her eyes were trained on the wall behind us, out of focus. "I've been trying to figure it out for years- then when I got the recent ones addressed to me, I wondered who we possibly could have stolen from."
"Does anyone else know about the letters that were sent to Sam? That they would somehow know exactly what was sent to her all those years ago?" I asked.
She paused for a minute, thinking. She shrugged her shoulders, "Not anyone besides the police or my best friend, Michelle. She was with me when..." she trailed off, but we got it.
I nodded a little and proceeded to put the letters into my bag, standing up from the chair. Morgan did the same and stuck out his hand to Sabrina to which she shook.
"We're on your side, Sabrina. Let us look into it and we'll be in touch." He said, granting a small smile from her.
I handed her my business card with my personal cell number on it. "Call us if you think of anything else, or if you receive any more letters." I could only hope she wouldn't and that this was all just a really mean, unfunny prank.
Sabrina Woods
After the agents left, I leaned back in my desk chair and released a long sigh.
My head was pounding and I felt like I was suffocating under a blanket, trying to think about who might want to hurt me and my child.
The fact that I couldn't place who would-or could, hate me and my family so much to murder them just made me even more confused and paranoid. It couldn't be one of my patients, considering they're mostly children and most of them probably weren't even old enough to hold a conversation let alone hold a knife and kill three people with it.
I stood up and gathered my things from my desk, done for the day. I pushed Dr. Reid's business card into the back of my phone case. It had been quite a busy week and I knew I needed to get home before Michelle had to be at work.
The drive home was quiet and unnerving. To try and stop my hands from shaking so hard, I gripped the steering wheel as tight as I could. My breath came out in long, ragged wisp of air as I tried to relax enough to make it to my house. Every turn I made, it felt like someone was either watching me or following me. As usual. I tried to brush it off as I pulled into the driveway, my headlights flicking off as I put the car in park.
