Get Out If You Can

Hunter | The Truth-Or Something Close, At Least

I feel like the part of my body below my head has dissolved in the air.

"HOW?" I yell. "HOW'D YOU GET THAT?"

Diego shakes his head. "I will explain," he says. "But first, someone else has to. Did you hear that, Miss Smith?"

I should tell him to stop being smart like this, but for some reason, I'm rooting for him with every fiber of my being. Diego is smart. I don't care about his PTSD; the boy is genuinely a total genius.

Matt and Emilie look as stunned as I am. We didn't see that coming at all. I mean, everything did point quite blatantly at Derek, and, added to that, we still haven't come any closer to what we did. If Lana killed Caitlyn, then why the hell are we here? And why on Earth would she, of all people, call –

"That is very interesting, Diego Torrez," the voice – or rather, Lana – says. "But I am afraid I have not understood."

"Oh, but that's not much of a surprise," Diego says, looking straight ahead at nowhere in particular. The whole of his body is composed, calm – even wise – but his jaw's twitching. Giveaway.

"How would a murderer see reason?" he asks. "How is it possible for me to explain to you what you've done? You would know, for yourself," he says, "but I can give you a start. Remember the tape you were kind enough to provide us with? Remember how it started?" I feel dumb. I don't remember. "It started with an excerpt of a girl's voice," he says. "Asking her to write a note. And the remainder of the conversation shows nothing that indicates you took the note directly from her."

Okay, I'll admit it, I skipped on that part. But brainy Torrez's conclusion says nothing more to me.

"Still don't get it?" I'll bet everything Diego's smirking right now. I cannot believe he's established dominance – even if it's only partial – over a potential murderer. I'm not convinced, but –

"Here's your clue," Diego says, almost lazily. "You didn't touch the note because you didn't want your fingerprints on it."

"Shit." Matt says what I feel like. "The note. The 'I'm in trouble, I think', note, right? Shit, Diego," he repeats, "you're a fucking genius."

"Not really," Diego says, shrugging. "You had to spot it. Either way, Lana," he continues, "you're not denying that it's you."

Someone clears their – her? – throat. I hear it crinkle through the speaker. "I am not Lana," the voice says, "but, Diego Torrez, you have a brilliant mind."

Diego doesn't say anything. He simply stares ahead, like, prove it.

"I will reveal my identity to you, shortly," the voice says. "In the meantime, we will continue. What have you realized, Diego? What have I been meaning to tell you?"

"That something happened to my brother?" he asks. "And, Lana, you've got to be more specific, you know. I didn't understand the bit about my 'lack of action'."

"I will explain," the voice says. "Tell me, Torrez. Would she have died if you had tried to stop her? You knew what was going on, did you not? Though I must admit," it goes on, "you were right in asking your mother to take down the platform. Thank you for doing that – though I doubt you would have even cared if it hadn't anything to do with yourself."

His mother took down Bennett Hawk? I never followed that account, nor did I check it – but his mother? Why doesn't anybody know that?

I look at the large screen that's been lowered in front of us. Alison's mouth is agape. I can't blame her.

Diego simply nods in response. "I'm not always the best person," he says, "but are you?"

It's like the two of them are having some sort of private conversation. There's no way I can catch on to whatever they're saying.