If this is really Dylan, tell me what happened to you.
I hit send before I can change my mind.
It feels like a trigger being pulled.
For a long time, I just sit there, listening to the wind outside moving through the trees and whispering against the windows. Part of me wishes I could take the message back. The other part is waiting with bated breath for a response.
Then it comes.
From:Dylan Ross
To:Jackson Ellis
Subject:Re: Hello, Jackson.
Isaac happened.
A pulse of adrenaline hits me. I glance around the room as though irrationally expecting someone to be standing behind me.
I type fast before I can lose my nerve.
What did he do?
The next response comes quicker this time.
From:Dylan Ross
To:Jackson Ellis
Subject:Re: Hello, Jackson.
He lied.
My mouth goes dry, and my heart won’t stop pounding. My fingers remain hovering over the keyboard as I’m torn between exiting out of my email and begging for more.
Finally, I type out my next question.
About what?
I stare at the screen as the cursor blinks back at me.
The next reply takes a little longer this time, like whoever’s on the other side is enjoying stretching this out just to see how long I’ll wait. Tormenting me.
If this really is Dylan,how? Why now? And if it’s not, then why pretend?
Could he really be alive, hiding, trying to warn me? Or is it someone else entirely, someone who knows too much about me? About Isaac?
My stomach twists. It’s ridiculous, sitting here letting some stranger play mind games through a screen. But I can’t look away. Every second that passes feels deliberate. Calculated.
When the answer finally comes, it’s only one word.
But it has me doubting everything.
From:Dylan Ross
To:Jackson Ellis
Subject:Re: Hello, Jackson.
