My old booking photo.
Brooke’s Stratford photo.
Bold text beneath them calls us a nationwide manhunt.
“Turn it up,” I say.
Beau grabs the remote and raises the volume.
“…authorities are asking the public to be on the lookout for Seth Kincaid and Brooke Sinclair,” the anchor says. “The pair is now wanted in connection with the Everspring Hotel massacre, multiple kidnappings, and a series of homicides involving dismemberment. Investigators believe they may be operating as a psychotic serial killer couple, responsible for a growing number of violent crimes across several states.”
Brooke’s fingers tighten on the back of the chair in front of her.
The screen shifts to footage from different angles. Grainy shots from Everspring security cameras play first, catching blurred figures and streaks of motion. Still images follow, rows of body bags lined up outside the hotel while emergency lights wash everything in red and blue. Then they pull an old photo from the campus vigil for the Stratford students.
The anchor keeps talking.
“Some online communities have already begun referring to the pair as ‘The Stratford Slashers,’” she says. “The name references both the Stratford student homicides and the dismemberment patterns present in later crime scenes.”
Travis lets out a breath that sounds half horrified and half impressed.
“I mean, at least they gave you guys a cool serial killer name,” he says quietly.
Brooke shoots him a look that could cut through bone.
“Really? That is the part you focus on.”
Travis lifts his hands in front of his chest. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking,” he mutters.
“Law enforcement sources confirm that both suspects are considered armed and extremely dangerous,” the anchor continues. “Officers have been instructed to treat any contact as a lethal threat. If you see them, you should not approach. You should call the tip line immediately.”
A message bar crawls along the bottom, listing a reward amount and a federal number in bold white text.
“Fucking fantastic,” Brooke says quietly. “They made it sound like we planned the Everspring massacre.”
“They needed a story that made sense to people who watch this shit over dinner,” I glance at Brooke. “Serial killer couple sells more fear than the truth ever will.”
Beau exhales through his nose and points at the screen. “Listen to this part.”
The feed cuts to another talking head, some former profiler with too much hairspray and a practiced frown.
“Based on current evidence, this fits a pattern of pair bonding around violence,” she says. “He has military training and a history of aggression. She is the survivor of multiple mass homicides who appears to have fused her attachment to him with participation in his crimes. Together they present an extreme risk. Law enforcement will likely prioritize neutralization over capture.”
Brooke’s mouth pulls tight. She turns her head just enough to meet my eyes.
“Wow, they really psychoanalyzed us.”
Travis shifts uncomfortably beside the couch. “I mean… I can’t say they’re exactly wrong.”
Brooke raises an eyebrow.
Travis lifts his hands defensively. “But also, context matters. You guys are killing people, but it’s justified. And you are killing bad people.”
He pauses.
“Like… really bad people.”
Beau walks out the room.
