‘She was bedridden.Or stuck in a chair in the living room.Every day, my dad had to inject her, and they’d ask me to stay in the other room, but I would peer around the door to watch.Sometimes, when neither of them were looking, I’d find the needles in the trash and I’d imagine injecting myself with them.Sometimes I’d touch the tip of the syringe and it would cut me.’
Ella swallowed hard.She’d never told anyone this, let alone twelve strangers.It wasn’t something that came up often, because any conversation about her parents usually defaulted to her dad’s murder.
‘Feel free to continue, if you wish.’
‘I remember sitting by my mom most nights, just watching her breathe.I asked her if I could inject her one time, and she just laughed and said no.One day, just after my fourth birthday, she could barely function, so she brought me into the room as my dad was injecting her.She never did that, so I knew there was a reason for it.When he injected her, she didn’t even flinch like she usually did.I figured out a few years later that she just wanted us all in the same place, so she could say goodbye.The last thing I remember seeing, next to her body, was a box full of needles.’
Ella was no longer in St Augustine’s Church, no longer surrounded by strangers.She was back in her living room-turned-deathroom to endure the painful cycle one more time.
‘Every time I see a needle, I remember that you can do everything right and still lose.’
Ella blinked.The church came back into focus.She looked around the circle.People stared at her with sympathy, curiosity, and pity.She couldn't tell if any of them were faking it.
‘Thank you for sharing that, Ella,’ said Derek.‘It takes courage to be that honest.Fear and grief are often two sides of the same coin.’
Ella sat down.She wiped her eyes quickly, before any tears could fall.
Maybe she'd regained her cover, at least.She'd given them a real story, and now she couldn't take it back.
Ripley had been right, again.
She really was a terrible actress.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Ella forced herself back into investigator mode.She'd just spilled her guts to a room full of strangers, but that didn't matter now.She was here to find a killer.Her story about her mom, true as it was, could still serve a purpose.Psychopaths didn't react to emotional confessions the way normal people did.She could use that.
She studied the men in the circle while Derek moved on to the next participant.
One guy was staring at his phone.He hadn't looked up once during her story.That could mean detachment, or it could just mean he was uncomfortable with heavy emotions.Hard to say.Another man was staring blankly at a spot on the floor, displaying neither sympathy nor indifference.
A third man was watching her too.His expression was calm and placid, but the corners of his eyes didn't match.They were upturned in focus, like he was studying her instead of listening to her.
A young woman across the circle stood up.Her voice was soft but steady.‘Hi, I'm Lily.I’m terrified of heights.It's called acrophobia.’
Ella shifted her attention to Lily while keeping her peripheral awareness on the men she was observing.She glanced over at Mason, or whatever his real name was.She’d noticed him watching her intently during parts of her monologue, and his face had been etched with what appeared to be genuine concern.Upturned mouth, narrowed eyes, no makeshift barriers with his arms or legs.However, Ella knew better than to take appearances at face value.
Lily said, ‘I remember this one time.I was on a school trip to the mountains.Everyone was excited about the cable car ride, except me.Just the thought of being suspended in the air made me feel sick.I tried to tell myself it's just a ride, nothing will happen, but when we got there, and I saw the cable car, my legs just wouldn't move.I couldn't step in.I felt so embarrassed, standing there, frozen, while everyone else got on.’
Ella studied the girl.Mid-twenties, brunette, soft-spoken.There was something fragile about her, something that made Ella want to stand up and tell her it was okay.That fear didn't make you weak.
‘It's not just cable cars.Bridges, tall buildings, even being on a high floor...it's all the same.The other day I tried to walk across Helmsley Bridge, but I couldn’t get near it.I had a panic attack.It feels like I'm missing out on so much.’
As Lily's story unfolded, Ella reflected on her own emotional vulnerability earlier.Had it been a mistake to reveal so much?Or perhaps it was a strategic move, disarming those around her, making them less guarded in their responses.Her story could elicit reactions that mere observation couldn’t.
Ella traced the room again, this time using Lily’s monologue to peer beyond the veil of appearances.She rifled past each male group member one by one – Derek included – checking their microsignals and reactions.But while she was engrossed in the task at hand, her peripheral vision caught something.
A figure stood in the doorway.He was drifting in and out like he couldn't decide whether to stay or leave.
Ella tried to place him.Church staff?Shy attendee?
He looked young.Early thirties, maybe.Thin build, curly black hair falling over his forehead.She couldn't see his face clearly, but something about the way he stood felt familiar.He leaned against the doorframe with his thumbs moving across his phone screen while Lily kept talking.
Odd behavior.He wasn't participating, but he wasn't ignoring the session either.He was watching.
The man looked up from his phone.
His eyes met Ella's.
