Between the Lines✔ [COMPLETED]

[42] Our Fate

Kyle

There are days when Malory does not come to school simply because she does not want to go through the terror of finding some form of abuse towards her lying around in her classroom. When those days come, Ron and Olivia clean up the mess for her, and I stand by and watch.
On the days when Malory decides not to come to rehearsals, Olivia fills in for her, and I try my best not to act like she's different from the Valerie I'm used to.

My main problem with Olivia is that when Malory's not here, I have to act like I'm hot for my best friend's girlfriend.

Does anyone even understand how wrong that is?

I mean...

Besides professionals?

Anyway...

I feel bad for Malory. I really do. 

But I can't help when I'm around her. I need to do something alone.

It's Friday, rehearsals are over and everyone's packing up to leave. I'm standing on the stage, and when I turn to my left, I see something fly through the wing and land at the corner of my eye where I couldn't help but walk over to pick it up. 

I'm disturbed by what I see. It's a picture of Malory and I during practice last Friday.

I wasn't aware that people were taking pictures then.

It wasn't a picture of us that we knew was coming –it was candid.

Nobody made an announcement that the photographer was coming back after the final photo shoot...

Why is the picture slightly blurry?

It has to mean that the person watching us is part of this group...

Why are they printing pictures?

Are they evidence for Ace?

I stand there, holding the photograph, deep in thought, but then my trail is broken by a whispered voice behind the stage.

"She didn't show up today," the person says, lowly, "But I'm on her –yes...yes... oh shut your trap... I'll go find her."

That's them! That has to be the person...

But I don't recognise their voice. 

Are they really going to get Malory?

What are they going to do?

No... she's not here, she may be at home... does this person know where she's living?

Hah! As if I'll let anyone lay a finger on her.

I turn and run to the back of the stage –but when I get there, I don't find a person.

Instead, I find more photographs of both Malory and I, snapped at different times, shot while nobody was looking, from all sort of angles. They're spread out on the floor like they lead to somewhere, and with every photograph that I pick up, I reach backstage, but there, I don't find anybody either.

Somebody here is causing this trouble... and it seems I'm closer to figuring out who it is now that I have these pictures.

Malory... I remember. 

If I didn't find the person... doesn't... that mean that...

I don't even try to finish my trail of thought.