32| Darkness

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Darkness

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Chapter 32: Darkness (Dante's POV)

The door slammed shut in Anastasia's wake before the series of videos even came to an end. Her reaction left both Marshall and I at a loss of words, and for several minutes, the two of us remained utterly silent and still. Taking a breath, I turned to face him, dozens of questions sitting at the tip of my tongue. 

Before I could voice a single one, he said, "I don't know what happened to her." 

Her reaction took place so fast, before I even had the chance to watch the final video properly. It was evident enough that she saw and recognized something or someone that Marshall and I had missed. 

"Play that final clip again," Marshall instructed. 

My eyes lingered at the door for a moment, and I contemplated between staying and doing as Marshall said or going after Anastasia. We had agreed to finally let each other in and open ourselves up to each other. 

But if I knew Anastasia at all, I knew that she needed her space at tough times like this. Just like me, Anastasia needed to get herself together before somebody else tried to help her recollect herself. 

So, I stepped back and pressed rewind for a few seconds before clicking play again. 

The scene replayed of the same little kid, Ethan, tiptoeing into the art studio and telling his father he had snuck into the basement. 

"Slow it down," Marshall said. Slowing down the speed, we rewatched the final moments, and this time, I caught what Anastasia had seen. The slightest glimpse of the man behind the camera. Although barely half of his face was visible between his fingers, Anastasia knew immediately. 

Fuck. 

"It's Isaiah Morales," I breathed out, running a hand over my mouth as I stood upright. "Shit," I mumbled, frustratedly raking my fingers through my hair as I spun around and faced the window. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

"She still recognizes him?" Marshall asked in shock. 

I turned to him, straining to keep my disbelief at bay. "Why wouldn't she, Marshall?" 

He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She must be terrified." 

I paused for a moment in confusion before it hit me. "You didn't tell her?" I asked. The silence that followed my question was deafening. A pin could be heard dropping in that room. "You didn't tell her?" I repeated, my voice more stern than it had ever been when speaking to Marshall. 

My composure was dangling by the thinnest of threads, and God forbid Marshall told me something I didn't want to hear because it wouldn't take more than a second for me to snap. 

A defeated sigh escaped him as he rose to his feet. "I didn't know what to tell her, Dante." 

My jaw grew taut as I tilted my head back, eyes closed, and took a deep breath. "Perhaps the truth," I ground out, facing him again. "How could you not tell her? You promised me." I took a step closer to him, knowing damn well I was crossing my limits as I stood there in his office. 

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