Remember Me Not

FORTY-SIX - BEFORE

As I power-walked across campus, my mind raced and my breathing became panicked. I'd been numb before, but the reality of the night now hit full force, like the retreat to safety had triggered my brain's delayed processing of events. And already I could feel them slipping. The details becoming diluted, trickling away slowly like a bath draining from a clogged plughole. What was left wasn't just hazy: it was total blackness.

Was it my spiked drink? Or was it a mechanism of my own mind, to spare me the trauma of ever having to relive tonight? There was plenty to be said for moving on, of course, but not like this. At this rate, there wouldn't be anything left by tomorrow morning.

I have to tell someone. Like, right now.

I stumbled as the thought struck, still unsteady on my feet. It was true, though. As much as I wanted to go home and collapse into bed, I couldn't risk sleep wiping clean the last of my memory.

But whom?

It must've been past four a.m. Campus was a ghost town, with staff offices and help desks shuttered until at least morning, if not Monday. I could tap out everything I could remember into a chaotic note on my phone—but if Josh found his way out of the lake, the first thing he would do was come after me and scare me out of speaking up. If I wanted to guarantee the truth would be revealed, I had to somehow get it out tonight.

Then it hit me.

A rush of calm followed, manifesting in the slowing of both my breath and heart. The weight of the decision seemed to leave my body; I knew what I had to do. I continued through the deserted campus, my long strides feeling lighter, like there was bounce-back from the snowy pavement pushing me in the right direction.

But I didn't turn at the usual board by the bookstore, which signposted the left turn to the residential blocks. Instead I kept walking. Past the convenience store and the shut-up Starbucks and the hooded darkness of the bike shelter. Past the unsettlingly empty quad and up the concrete steps to one of the tallest buildings on campus.

I went straight to the top floor of the library. There was only one other student there; they paid me no attention since they were slumped over the desk and asleep on their elbows. I took a seat at the other end of the room, at one of the quick-access computers that permitted twenty minutes' use without a student login. Then I opened up a document and let the words fall onto the keyboard, as quickly as my fingers would allow.

Fifteen minutes later, the printer in the corner juddered to life. I retrieved the single sheet of paper and folded it on my way out of the library.

My legs began to tremble as I emerged outside again, but I couldn't blame it on the cold. It had more to do with the permanence of what I was about to do—and even though I burned with assurance that it was right, there was still a terror in knowing that I couldn't take it back. I forced myself to take deep breaths as I pushed through the revolving door of the business building.

At the end of a corridor were the study rooms: rarely used, since they were old now and there were plenty of nicer places to work on campus. Only one of them had a sign—a personalized plastic plaque bought from Etsy—and it was also the only one that storage unit and pigeonholes next to the door.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pushed the sheet of paper through the very top slot.

Hanna Griffin, it read. GXRL Editor-in-Chief.

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There you have it: the rest of the mystery is out. Morgan was the one that wrote the letter all along, making sure the truth got out before it slipped away...

As this was a super short one, I'll get the next chapter up for you guys by the end of the week. And that chapter is the very last one. This story's been one wild ride, but I'm so grateful to all of you that have stuck it out all this way.

As always, let's chat in the comments!

Until next time...

- Leigh