The Skylar Experiment : Dead Ending (second draft)

Chapter Twenty-Six - Snowflake in the Blizzard (p.2)

HE ABSORBED THE WALL'S chipped-off painting, clinging onto the only noticeable detail about this small room. He sat on a stiff, wooden chair in front of a rectangular table with a shiny surface. The light was bright and irritating, reflecting off the two-way mirror on the opposite wall. There really wasn't a whole lot to this place, but it seemed to somehow contract inward on Chuck and suffocate him with the suited man and woman across from him and Miles seated in-between.

He wanted to cry for help but didn't know who would care to extend their hand.

"We won't keep you long," the woman began and deposited her threaded fingers on the table. "First, we'd like to know what you think after seeing the news."

"What I think..." His gaze lost itself and blurred out of focus. "I can't believe that Adam and Ethan were found dead. I didn't know that they... would be involved. I don't understand."

"Have you witnessed any reaction on Miss Addison's or Mr. Montgomery's part? Or any of the others you know?"

He remembered Riley asking him specifically not to speak to these guys and knew how detrimental it could be to her. But they wouldn't let him off the hook, and it was all he could do to be sorry. He never wanted people to suffer like they have and for the events to turn deadly. Now, he'd have to live with it.

He hesitated, testing the words in his mouth and scrambling to not put them out. His leg started jiggling under the table, eyes desperately darting anywhere but at the agents. Miles leaned forward a little.

"It's alright, man. It's just us in the room. Nobody will know and we need your help."

"Why am I so important for this investigation?" he retorted as his innards curled in revulsion. "How is it that I'm your best chance at gathering knowledge when you must know better ways to get what you want? I don't know much. I never did."

"Because," the man answered with a deep, rocky voice. "We can't overlook anything. People like them are more manipulative than you think, Mr. Danefield. It's no coincidence that they fabricate all their identities to purchase estates and properties. It makes them virtually unreachable for us. We have to rely on less... appreciated tactics."

Chuck was tempted to question just how 'manipulative' Riley and her peers were in their book. Why was that not up for debate with them?

"What do you even mean by manipulative, sir?"

Both agents stared at each other and then passed a side glance to Miles. He straightened in his chair, uncomfortable with the newly directed attention, but seemed to know where this was going. He brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

"You know when you saw her and me in the classroom? She was holding glass pieces around me, and she said that she lost control. I didn't tell you at the time because I didn't want to scare you, but... she was trying to kill me, Chuck." His eyes flicked up, his lips twisting. "If you hadn't come in, I don't think I'd be sitting next to you today."

Chuck processed that, reminding himself all that followed after he sprinted down the school corridor. She had seemed so unsure, so brittle with her explanations, and her own inflections had sounded rickety. He had no choice than to believe her if he wanted to get out of the room alive, but at some point he'd thought to himself that maybe Riley told the truth. It wasn't like there was hard evidence that she killed anyone, and as she'd pointed out, kids in this town were disappearing long before she arrived.

He remained silent. That alone wasn't enough to convince him of anything, but he had a feeling that Miles or the agents had more stories to share.

"What do you think Riley was doing when she sent the footage to the headmaster?" Miles asked, leaning forward even more. "Do you really think it was out of kindness?"