What She Left Behind ✔️

chapter eleven

"Gemma Beaufort?" a voice calls out.

"That's me." I hear my name, but I don't look up from the monitor. I have so much work to do and so little time left to do it.

"My name's Griffin. I have your flash drive."

"About time. I've only been waiting a month to get that back."

"Sorry, I was busy, you know, doing work that I actually get paid for."

I finally avert my gaze, ready to rip this snarky IT guy a new one, but I quickly silence myself when I see him. He isn't what I expected. Instead of a nerdy white boy with glasses and a pocket protector, I'm staring at a dark-skinned, six-foot-three man who looks as if he was hand-crafted by the gods themselves.

"Um, I'm sorry," I say, blushing scarlet. I rise to my feet and extend my hand. "Gemma. Gemma Beaufort."

He flashes an impeccably white, toothy smile. "Uh, yeah, I know. I already called your name, remember?"

"Right." I retract my hand and smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in my blouse. "Well, um, thank you for unlocking the files. I really appreciate it."

"Uh-huh." He crosses his large arms over his equally large chest. "I gotta say, these MP4s were hard to crack."

"MP4?"

"Type of video file."

"Right."

"Is your friend a techno genius or something?" he asks, taking the black USB drive out of his pocket and handing it to me.

"Was," I correct him. "She... she died back in December."

"Oh." His face softens. "I'm really sorry. I hope whatever's on here gives you some closure."

I force a smile. "Thanks. I hope so, too."

He nods his head. "Well, have a good one, Gemma."

"Wait!" I exclaim as he turns on his heel to leave.

He spins around. "Yes?"

"Did... did you watch the videos, by any chance?" I inquire.

"No, I didn't," he says with a chuckle. "I don't make a habit of invading other people's privacy. Ella asked me for a favor, so I did her a favor. That's all this was."

"It's not that. I'm just... nervous," I confess. "I have no idea what I'm going to find on this flash drive."

"Well, when are you planning on watching it?" he asks.

"When I get home from work, probably."

"Do you have some free time right now? We could take a look together."

I think about the half a dozen articles I need to proofread, the emails in my inbox I haven't read, and the dry cleaning I need to pick up for Ella by five before answering with a confident, "Yes."

Griffin takes me up to the IT department. I see an endless row of monitors, most of which have nerdy white boys in front of them. He leads me to a desk in the corner of the room and pulls up an extra chair.

"We're really doing this, aren't we? Like, this is actually happening?" I ask.

"I mean, we don't have to," he replies.

"No, I want to," I insist, although my queasy stomach says otherwise. "The drive has 'veritas' written on it, for god's sake. I need to watch the videos."

As Griffin inserts the drive, I take a deep breath. If this is a sex tape or something filmed in the wee hours before Raelyn took her own life, I'm going to lose it. I might be a reporter, but there's only so much truth I can handle.

"There are four files total," he explains, "They're not named, so I'm going to play the oldest one first."

"Sounds good to me."

"Are you sure? You look a little pale."

I scoff. "I never look pale."

He purses his lips. "Yeah, you kind of do."

"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes. "Just play the video."

He clicks on the first file. Raelyn's face takes over the screen. Her green eyes are bright, glossy, and full of life. She pushes her orange mane out of her face and smiles. I steal the mouse from Griffin and pause the video. She looks happy. She looks genuinely happy.

She never looked that way when she was with me.

"You okay?" Griffin whispers.

"Yeah." I hold the cursor over the play button. "Just dandy."

The clip starts up again. In a singsong voice, Raelyn says, "So Vange and I are finally moved into our new apartment! It's two-bedroom, complete with a—"

I pause the video. "Two-bedroom? She hasn't lived in that apartment since, like, 2014. When was this filmed?"

"2011," Griffin responds without hesitating.

"That was, like, five years ago."

"Good job."

I ignore his sarcastic remark. "Alright, let's keep watching."

"You're the one who keeps pausing it," he reminds me.

I roll my eyes again and hit the play button. Raelyn's voice rings in my ears once more. "—a view of this beautiful cemetery from the kitchen window. I can't wait to take Vange for walks there. I had to use most of what Gram left me to afford this place, but the rent isn't bad. I have a good job now. I'm a hostess at the diner across the street. My manager's a total sketch bag, of course. He keeps calling me Rae-Rae. You know how much I hate that." She giggles, biting her bottom lip with her front teeth.

I wrap my arms around myself as the nostalgia hits me. I miss her laugh. It was the kind of laugh that was so infectious, you couldn't resist the urge to laugh alongside her.

"I realize I haven't always made the best choices," she goes on, her grin fading. "I'm trying to do better for Vange. She's such a smart kid. She's just two, but she's already counting and naming colors and stuff. The other day, we went to the park, and she lined up a bunch of rocks in order from smallest to biggest. Another mom who was, like, twice my age didn't believe me when I said she was only two."

Griffin stops the clip and places his hand on my shoulder. "Do you want to take a break?"

I shake my head. "It's almost over. I can finish it."

"So, anyway, I just wanted to update you on the recent on-goings of my uninteresting life," Raelyn says to her webcam. "I hope to hear back from you soon! We'll have to meet up. I can't wait for you to meet Vange. Bye!"

The video stops. Raelyn's face is replaced with blackness.

"That was... pretty tame," Griffin comments.

I nod my head. Yeah, it could have been worse. It could have been a depraved sex act or a tear-filled reading of her suicide note. Not that she left a note. The only things she left behind were this flash drive and Evangeline.

"Do you want to look at another one?" he asks.

"Not today," I reply, removing the drive from the port. "Thanks again for unencrypting the files. I really appreciate it."

"Uh, no problem," he replies.

"I'll see you around, I guess."

"If you need anymore help, you know where to find me."

I exit the IT office. I have at least three hour's left of work to accomplish for the day. However, instead of returning to my desk, I go outside, get in my car, and drive away.

After hearing Raelyn's voice, seeing her smile, and listening to her melodious laughter, no email or article or freaking dry cleaners seems important.

The Emerald Tribune can go screw itself. I'm done for the day.