Innocent Until Found Dead

Chapter Eleven

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." -Winnie the Poo

(Listen to the song after the first time break(Those little dots) it'll make ya cry)

Quinn knew, deep down, that Laura and Hunter were hiding something from her, but it was time she realized it was the cold and bitter truth. She'd seen it in the way their eyes darted when she mentioned her dreams, heard it in the muffled, urgent tones of their whispers drifting through walls whenever they thought she couldn't hear. She caught it in their hesitant glances, in the forced casualness of every question they asked about her dreams as though bracing themselves for what she might remember. It felt like every look, every word, was keeping her on the outside of something she could sense was hers to know.

It stung. The ache of not knowing was sharp, twisting her trust into something raw and wary. Even with Hunter, whose presence had always brought her comfort, who had somehow slipped past her defenses recently in ways she didn't fully understand—there was a barrier now, a wall built by secrets he wouldn't share. And despite the pull she felt toward him, the closeness that had begun to bloom between them, she felt a flicker of doubt gnawing at the edges. If he was keeping something from her, how could she fully trust him? How could she fully trust anyone?

Yet, as conflicted as she felt, she still cared deeply for them both. For Laura, who had been her family when the rest of the world fell apart, and for Hunter, who felt like home in a way she couldn't quite explain. She knew they loved her, knew they were only trying to protect her from something. But the truth was a thing she couldn't ignore any longer; it had grown into a weight, a shadow following her every step.

After a long night of restless thoughts and a quiet, determined decision in the shower, Quinn knew what she had to do. She would find out the truth herself. She would unravel this mystery, follow every hidden thread, and uncover the secrets that lay between them. She would no longer rely on their hesitant answers or probing questions. This was her life, her past, her truth to claim—and she would face it alone if she had to. Plus, where better to start digging than in her parents' old things? Packed away or not, she would find whatever clues they left behind. There had to be something more than a vague story about her family becoming random targets of a serial killer, obediently following his every word without resistance. The whole thing felt a little too convenient, even far-fetched.

Stepping out of the shower, Quinn dried off and pulled on a pair of black sweats and a red tank top, ready for the ten or eleven hours she'd spend on the road. As she moved through her now nearly empty room, folding and packing what was left, a sense of resolve tightened in her chest. She wasn't going to let anyone keep her in the dark any longer—not Laura, not Hunter, and certainly not the ghost of a story that had been fed to her without enough explanation. She loved them both, truly, and part of her hated to go behind their backs. But there was an undeniable need clawing at her insides, urging her forward, demanding the truth no matter what the cost. She had to know. For herself. For the family she'd lost.

Quinn finished zipping her bag, her fingers brushing the worn fabric thoughtfully. She let out a deep breath, her eyes shifting over the empty shelves and bare walls that once held photos, memories of a life that seemed like it had never really been hers. Not entirely.

With one last glance at her room, she picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and quietly opened the door. The house was strangely quiet, only the muted sounds of moving men echoing down the hallway from the front of the house. It was almost unsettling, that quiet—a perfect backdrop for secrets yet to be uncovered.

She made her way down the hallway, heading for the stairs, her senses on high alert. Laura and Hunter were busy somewhere else, preoccupied with the last-minute packing and overseeing the movers, so it was now or never. Quinn reached the hallway closet where she remembered her parents had kept old documents and boxes of memories stored away over the years. As she knelt down, sliding the door open as quietly as possible, she prayed that Laura hadn't already taken the boxes out.