Page 17 of Web of Lies

My eyes drift to every nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for another red light. Thankfully coming up empty this time. But going to sleep in an unfamiliar room, and the threat of a stalker sends my nerves into a frenzy.

Someone may know why I’m here and that means I’m fucked. Like super-duper fucked.

I swallow hard and sit down at my computer. Tracking the camera back to its owner proved impossible, but I can still get a glimpse of the owner through another source. I access the security footage from the school’s network with ease. Being on campus instead of three hours away has its perks—like getting into the network I couldn’t six months ago. Now if they only stored surveillance videos for longer than three days, I could follow Magnolia’s tragic story on camera.

In a few clicks of my mouse, I pour over the footage on the screen. More than twenty panels of live footage from every corridor of campus spring to life before my eyes. Every hallway in and out of the classrooms, the darkened courtyard, the parking lot, and even the forest, has cameras pointed at it. Only two squares are blacked out labeled,``The Maze’’and“VB house.”I wonder how the boys pulled that off?

I pour through the captured footage of my hallway from hours before, checking the timestamps of every camera. Piper and I exit my room and other girls traipse up and down the hallway without a care in the world. Until it’s eerily empty.

Finally, after two hours lapses, one tall figure dressed in black from head to toe with sunglasses, and a pulled down black cap over their forehead, comes into view. The baseball hat blocks their facial features and gender, with a black hood hiding any hair they might have. Even the baggy clothes hanging off their body, conceals everything. Their thick black boots are large, but still, it gives nothing away.

Who is this?

My body naturally leans in toward the screen, as the figure pulls out a set of keys. Fucking keys? They unlock my door like it’s nothing and close it behind them. Thirty minutes later they emerge with empty hands, tucking them into their equally as empty pockets. My skin prickles with awareness. Someone was in my room, in my space without me. Who knows what they looked at? The worst part about it is, I don’t understand who they were or what they were looking for. Or why in the hell did they put a camera in my vent?

I rub my hand over my forehead while my stomach fills with lead. I never in a million years imagined someone would be on to me. They have to be if they’re tailing me like this. With a few keystrokes, I set both computer cameras to catch any movement possible in my room and head off to bed.

Tristan:

Have a good first day, babe! Give ‘em hell and run circles around those bastards.

Me:

You’re so encouraging at seven in the morning. Have a good day too, don’t let them beat you down this year.

Tristan:

Yeah… that’s never going to happen. If anyone is doing the beating, it’s me….

Me:

You will… you’re a badass. Right?

Tristan:

I’m not the only one boo. you’re my equal…

Me:

Ouch… just your equal? I thought I was your queen or something.

Tristan:

Yeah… I bow down to you…but I’m the king…so we’re equals…

Me:

In the game of chess, me being the queen, equals the most power.

Tristan:

I bow to you, my queen.

Me:

Much better, peasant! HA! Have a good day, knock ‘em dead.

Tristan: