Things We Can't Tell (Cold Case Series 1)

ix.

Confess

𝟺 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙽𝙾 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳. 

 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟻𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍. 

𝙽𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎.

S E S S I O N  9

I couldn't feel anything. I didn't notice the sun was already up. I didn't notice the birds chirping. I couldn't feel my own flesh, if I was blinking, if I was still breathing. My eyes were dry because of exhaustion and my mind was clouded with thoughts. 

The discovery of the gun weighed heavily on me. Enough for me to can't think, and be paranoid at the same time. 

What was it for? s̶h̶e̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶m̶e̶ Why did Lindsey have it? s̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶d̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶t̶a̶r̶t̶ Was that mute girl trying to kill me? Was she really mute? 

The questions swirled in my head, each one more terrifying than the last.

I let my body move on its own. I prepared for my session with Lindsey, my mind was full of fear and confusion. 

As if it was just the first time. Like I'm looking in the mirror, now our aura is much the same, our expressions are, our faces are. The tension between us was noticeable, more suffocating than ever before. As we sat down across from each other, the silence was deafening. We stared at each other.

Lindsey's expression was as blank as ever, but there was something in her eyes—a flicker of something I couldn't quite place. Was it fear? Anger? Desperation? I couldn't tell. But it was clear that she was bothered, that the tension was getting to her as much as it was to me.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. 

This would be our last session. 

I couldn't continue like this. Tomorrow, it would all be over. 

"Lindsey," I began, my voice shaking slightly. "Today is our last session."

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't speak. The flicker of emotion in her eyes grew stronger, and I could see the tension in her body. She was bothered, clearly, but she still said nothing.

"Tomorrow, it will be all over," I continued. "I need you to tell me everything. No more secrets, no more hiding. I need to know the truth."

Silence. Nothing.

Lindsey's expression remained blank, but her eyes told a different story. I could see the fear there, the anger, the desperation. But still, she said nothing.

I felt a surge of frustration and fear. Why wouldn't she speak? What was she hiding? I stood up, unable to take the silence any longer.

"Please, Lindsey," I said, my voice breaking. "Just tell me. I need to know."

But she remained silent, her eyes locked on mine. The tension in the room was unbearable, and I felt like I was about to break. I couldn't do this anymore. 

I turned and left the room, my heart pounding. I needed to get out, to clear my head. But the questions continued to swirl in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last. I left with no answers to even one of my questions.

What was the gun for? Why did Lindsey have it? Was she really mute? What were her secrets?

What are the things she can't tell?

⌖

When the night came, I fixed everything I needed. I tried to focus on preparing for tomorrow.

The silence is making me hear my own thoughts. 

The tension from our final session was still bothering me. Lindsey's blank expression, her refusal to speak—it was all too much. I needed to get out of this house. But as I packed, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something, that there was still something I needed to understand.

Then, suddenly, a loud noise shattered the silence. My heart jumped into my throat and I froze. It had come from the kitchen, a crash followed by a series of muffled thuds.

⌖