What She Left Behind ✔️

chapter twenty-four

I watch as my little brother stares at the monitor, his headphones secured in his ears. When I told him about the "veritas" drive and what was on it, he demanded to watch the videos right away. He's about finished with the second one as I pause the clip.

He pulls out his earbuds and glares at me. "What was that for?"

"I haven't even opened the last two files yet," I inform him. "I don't want you getting ahead of me."

"Are you serious?"

"I know it sounds petty, but—"

"No," he cuts me off, "that's not what I meant. You, an investigative reporter, haven't binge-watched these yet? I'm shocked."

"Seeing her face... it's hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be," I admit to him. "When I watch the videos and hear her voice, I sometimes forget that she isn't here anymore. I forget that she's dead. That can't be healthy, right?"

Bowie's lips curl into a smile. It's the first time he's appeared happy in weeks. "I think it's your brain's way of telling you you miss her."

"I do miss her. I don't think I'll ever stop missing her." I prop my elbow on the desk and rest my head against my palm. "It was so much easier when I was mad at her."

"Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance," my brother mumbles.

I blink. "Huh?"

"The five stages of grief," he clarifies. "I think you skipped bargaining and went straight to depression, though."

"What is there to bargain? 'Please, divinities, let Raelyn live!' That's not how it works. The dead can't come back to life."

"That doesn't stop people from trying."

I shake my head, unwilling to entertain the ridiculous idea of resurrection. I'd rather be depressed for the rest of my life than live in some fantasy realm where holding Raelyn again seems like a possibility.

"Shall we watch the next one?" he asks.

"Up to you."

"I'm down if you're down."

With a sigh, I steal one of Bowie's earbuds and hold the cursor over the triangular play button. Raelyn's face appears on the screen, except this video is not like the previous two. Here, her face is damp with tears. Her hair is pulled back into a frizzy ponytail. Her emerald eyes are glistening not with excitement, but with sorrow.

"I don't know if I can do it anymore," she weeps. "I've been keeping this secret for so long. So fucking long. I... I thought I could push it to the back of my mind and forget about it. I thought I could go on with my life like it never happened." I watch as she wipes her teary eyes, leaving an ebony mascara trail across her face. "I protected him for the sake of my friends, for Evangeline, but I'm starting to realize that that's all a bunch of bullshit. I was just scared. I am scared. I act like I'm so different now, like I've grown up so much." She grabs a crumpled piece of tissue and blows her nose. "I haven't changed one bit, you know that? Not one god damn bit."

All of the sudden, Bowie presses pause. "When did she record this?"

"Um, I don't know," I reply. "She's in her studio, so it must be somewhat recent."

"Is there a time stamp?"

"I don't know enough about this stuff, Bowie. If my friend, Griffin, were here—"

"Never mind. Let's keep watching it." Without another word, he presses play.

"He's a monster, but everyone thinks he's this perfect man who can do no wrong," Raelyn goes on. She clutches her chest like someone in pain. "I want to forget. I just... I just want to forget."

Her face vanishes. Once again, we're staring at a black screen.

"What was she talking about?" I wonder aloud. "Who was she talking about?"

Bowie looks at me, his face ashen, his blue eyes wet with unfallen tears. I reach for his hand, but he recoils from my touch.

"Bowie, it's going to be okay," I assure him. "I'm sorry. I never should have shown you the videos. It's a lot for anyone to handle. I—"

"I can handle the videos," he interrupts, his voice a soft murmur.

"Then why are you so upset?" I ask.

His mournful gaze meets mine. "Gemma, I... there's something I have to tell you."

"Um, okay." The fear in his voice is palpable, and it ties my stomach into knots. "What do you have to tell me?"

"Not here. Not now." He pulls his headphones out of the jack and rises to his feet. I grab the flash drive and follow him toward the door, sprinting to keep up with his pace.

We walk to my car. He climbs into the driver's seat and asks for the keys, to which I shake my head.

"You shouldn't be driving right now," I warn him. "You're too upset."

Reluctantly, he scoots over to the passenger's side. I get behind the wheel and drive us to my apartment. Bowie still has no desire to go home, and I'm not letting him out of my sight until he says what he has to say.

We're greeted by Levi, who looks almost as shaken as Bowie. I shoot my roommate an inquisitive look. He rolls his eyes in response.

"What happened tonight?" I ask him. "I heard something about Alyx getting an abortion?"

"Oh, she wanted to," Levi replies. "She screamed at Benson for an hour on the phone and then begged me to drive her to Planned Parenthood."

"And did you?"

"No way! I'm not getting in the middle of that. This is some straight people drama I want no part of."

"Where is she now?"

"In your bedroom. She cried herself to sleep about an hour ago."

"Guess I'm taking the couch tonight," I mutter.

"I would have offered her my bed, but she's your guest." Levi flashes a toothy grin and pats my shoulder. "On that note, goodnight!"

I watch as Levi disappears into his Alyx-free bedroom. As soon as I hear the click of his door shutting, I order Bowie to take a seat and start talking.

"You really want to do this here?" he questions me. "Like, right now?"

"Yes, right now. I'm an investigative reporter, remember? I'm a truth junkie."

He rubs his temple. "This might be more truth than you can handle."

"Bowie," I whisper, "whatever it is, just tell me."

He lets out a weary sigh, looks me in the eyes, and says, "I think I know what Raelyn was talking about in the video, but you're not going to like it."