Her gaze is hard and sharp. The girl doesn’t appreciate the truth bombs. “He said you’d be too scared to call the cops on me.”
“It’s a complicated situation. But I would really appreciate it if you stayed off my property in the future.”
Due to her use of an outside voice and swearing, we’re attracting attention. A man with a baby gives us definite side eye. And a young person standing over by the bananas pulls out their cell to film the confrontation. Which is when Laura decides to take her leave. It’s not the sort of attention she’s after, apparently. Though the security cameras didn’t bother her. I don’t know. She’s a strange one.
I straighten my shoulders and push my shopping cart in the opposite direction. Everything is fine. Just ignore how my hands are shaking. Seems I may not be completely cool with getting stalked by this bitch after all. But I have things to look forward to—like bingo tonight with Muriel and beating the shit out of my punching bag when I get home. A mostly healthy release for a messed-up situation. “Sweater Weather” by The Neighbourhood starts playing over the speaker system and yes. I love this song. Some lucky people in the bakery section even get to hear me singing it. Grocery store soundtracks really can save the day.
Hana texts me during breakfast on Wednesday.
Hana: How did your date go?
Me: Not a date. Just friends.
Hana: Answer the question.
Me: Good. He’s having drinks with work friends at his house on Sunday.
Hana: He asked you to go?
Me: Yeah.
Hana: Will you?
Me: I think so.
Hana: Do it do it do it.
Me: Bingo was fun. I had no idea it was so competitive. A fight nearly broke out. And I’m pretty sure another couple are getting a divorce.
Hana: Invite me next time. I need to experience this.
Me: Will do. Wanna catch a movie next week?
Hana: I would love to!
Hana: But I have some bad news.
Me: What?
Hana: I really don’t want to tell you. But you need to know. Sorry.
She sends me a link. It’s the first trailer for a series coming soon to a streaming service. Creepy music plays. Two men are seated at a table surrounded by the microphones and computers required for a podcast. They talk about the fear felt by the citizens of this city when the hunt was on for a killer.
Photos flash up on screen of Ryan and me together. Me sitting on his lap at a concert in a park. Us posing happily with a bunch of flowers he bought me for Valentine’s Day. These are followed by video of me testifying in court and a picture of Briana Petersen. Then we’re following a winding path through the woods leading to a realistic-looking skull lying on the ground. It’s all very gross and dramatic.
Next, Ryan is heard speaking over the phone from jail. My stomach turns upside down at the sound of his voice. It’s been so long since I heard it. He swears I manipulated him into taking part in the murder and helping me dispose of the body out in the woods. The poor innocent man is just a victim of love, apparently. Which is not a new thing. To clear him or knockdown the charges in the original court case meant his legal team needed to prove reasonable doubt. Apparently, the easiest way of doing so was by shifting the blame to someone else. Me. The strand of my hair on Briana Petersen’s body and the search of her burial site on my computer created enough doubt that the jury would only convict him of manslaughter.
I assume the documentary makers are just ignoring the other women who went missing during the time he spent at school. No need to unduly complicate the tale of his supposed innocence.
He claims therapy has helped him to understand how I coerced and controlled him. How pressure from me led to him playing a part in this terrible tragedy. I was jealous of Briana Petersen, apparently. Which is news to me. But he says he’s spent the time in jail praying for forgiveness. He credits finding religion and his real love with turning his life around. Which is when my stalker, Laura, gets her share of the limelight. How nice.
I had assumed she was attracted to him because he was a psychopath. However, maybe I am wrong about that. She might just be with him because she believes he was done wrong by society and the justice system. You never know. Though her behavior tends to lean toward idolizing and mimicking homicidal assholes more than anything. What I’ve seen of it, at least.
The scene returns to the podcasters, who promise new interviews with officials involved in the investigation. Along with family and friends of both the accused and the victim. It finishes with the announcement that they will be shedding new light on the case. They’re calling itMisledand over fifty thousand people have watched the trailer already.
Bile rushes up the back of my throat. I make it to the bathroom just in time to vomit up breakfast.
Sometimes a girl just needs to rot in bed. To turn her back on the world and wither for a while. Which is exactly what I am in the process of doing when my neighbor starts shouting at eleven o’clock at night. So rude.
