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F reddy was an oily-haired twenty-something who was now sitting in front of a desktop. Acne had not been kind to his face and there were thick lines of dirt underneath his fingernails.

“What date are you looking for?” Freddy asked me.

“Can you go back to September fifth?”

Freddy let out a long breath. I was clearly an inconvenience to his day. He’d been lying on a couch in the break room playing a Nintendo Switch when Luisa and I walked in.

“Alright. This is the fifth,” he said, boredom lacing his voice.

“Great. Can you fast forward to about six that night?”

Freddy tapped a button on the keyboard, sending off a loud clack . Then he clicked the mouse.

“Right there.” I pointed at the screen, and he gave the keyboard a clack again. “Go back a bit.”

Clack .

“Right there,” I murmured.

He paused the video, revealing a still of Eve entering the diner in a brown hoodie, leggings, and Uggs.

Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, her face pale, hands tucked into the hoodie pocket.

She looked exhausted. She stopped at a table where someone was already sitting.

This person had a hood on, their back to the camera and the diner entrance.

Who is that?

“Is there an angle where I can see the person sitting with that woman?” I asked Freddy as I pointed at Eve.

Clack.

Click.

Freddy switched to another angle of the diner, went back to September 5th, and stopped the time at 6:04 PM, just like the previous still.

He paused it, but even from this angle I couldn’t see the person’s face.

They had their head down, hood pulled low, only the bill of a hat poking out, completely aware of the cameras.

Eve sat with this person for no longer than six minutes. Throughout the entire six minutes, she appeared visibly upset, slapping her hands on the table, throwing them in the air with exasperation, before finally hopping out of the booth, flipping the person off, and leaving the restaurant.

I tried following her to see which direction she might’ve gone outside of the building but had no luck.

“Are there cameras outside the diner?” I asked.

“Only in the back,” Freddy said. The rest are CCTV, and I don’t control those.”

“Right.” I gave the screen one more look. The person sat at the booth in their hood, watching Eve go. They sat for three minutes before finally standing up, pulling the hat lower with leather-gloved hands, and exiting the diner too.

“That’s creepy as shit.” Freddy chortled.

Yeah. It was creepy, not only because I had no idea who this person was, but because whoever it was, they’d clearly done something to Eve. Judging by the build, this was a man. Unless there was some buff, broad-shouldered woman wandering around that I wasn’t aware of.

“Thank you for your help, Freddy. Have fun playing with your Switch.”

“It is fun, actually,” Freddy retorted.

I left the back room with more questions than I’d gone in with. On my way out the diner, I checked my phone, and my signal was ten times better here than at the cottage. I searched for Nico’s name again but bumped into someone along the way.

A large pair of hands caught me before I could stumble. Gasping, I looked up at the familiar older man with ivory skin, a graying mustache, and large cowboy hat atop his head. He wore the same sheriff’s badge I saw yesterday but he didn’t have the aviator sunglasses.

“I’m so sorry.” I collected myself as Sheriff Reed released me. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Nose stuck in your phone,” he said, but he didn’t smile.

It was weird. His eyes were beady and dark, blending in with his irises.

I was glad I hadn’t seen them when he pulled me over or I would’ve been even more unnerved.

I didn’t like the way he looked at me either, like I was a pest he wanted to squish with his foot.

“Yeah,” I said before walking away and hurrying to my car. Once inside, I locked the doors and watched the sheriff make his way inside the diner, stopping at the counter in front of Luisa. She poured him a coffee as he said (or asked) something, then she spoke.

Sheriff Reed looked back at me with narrowed eyes as Luisa mouthed away, waving her hands in pure nonchalance. When he held up a finger at her and marched toward the exit, I started my engine, put the car in gear, and drove out of the parking lot.

Eve Castillo journal entry

I was supposed to meet Rose for a movie last night.

I wanted to vent to her about how this new guy had upset me.

I bought my favorite ice cream, and she asked me to grab butter pecan for her.

When I got to her place, Cole said she’d left really quick because Ben had called her.

His arthritis was getting worse so I understood why she left but I wish she’d told me in advance.

It was just me and Cole. I didn’t like it.

We’d kissed before. Now we were alone again.

It wasn’t safe. He could sense that I was about to leave so he made up some stupid question and asked me for advice on a logo he’d hired someone to design.

He had two options, and both were ugly, but I told him to go with the blue one.

He could tell I was upset about something so he asked me about it but I shrugged it off.

I sent Rose a text and told her I would catch her another time.

She replied quickly and begged me not to leave—said it shouldn’t take her too long to get back.

She wanted to vent to me too, most likely about Cole.

She’d been hinting at how they were having issues and were arguing a lot more.

But then Cole came up to me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and reeled me backwards.

I asked him what the hell he was doing, and he started kissing my neck.

I don’t know how he managed it, but somehow, he’d guided me to the couch. He took off all my clothes and I just . . . let him. He kept saying we needed to finish what we’d started and that’s when I knew I had to end this.

I told him to get off. He didn’t. He just held on tighter and kept kissing me, even when I tried pushing him off. He continued spreading my legs so he could make it easier for himself to enter me. I was triggered. I realize that now. And when I’m triggered, I have the tendency to freeze.

For some reason, while this was happening, I thought about my dad and how sometimes I had to just take the beating so it would end sooner. Don’t fight back. Just let it happen, let him get it out so he can move on and leave you alone.

It was called being in survival mode.

That’s what my mother always said.

I remember just . . . letting it happen.

Letting Cole suck on my nipples and moan as he rolled his tongue around my piercings. Letting him palm my breasts as he grunted in the crook of my neck. He kept saying how much he missed being inside me. How he wished I was in Rose’s place. I was glad he had a condom on because he came fast.

Then Rose came home, and she saw us together. I don’t know what to do. She won’t answer me. It’s been hours and I can’t sleep because I feel horrible. I need to explain to her what really happened and tell her I never wanted that with Cole.

I think because the act was forbidden, Cole wanted me more.

He knew he’d never be able to have me again with Rose in the picture, and he couldn’t live with that.

He also knew he’d never leave Rose for someone like me.

To him, I was forbidden fruit and despite the issues it would bring, he wanted to devour me.

Now I understand why my parents named me after the first woman who sinned.