“Victor,” I said, drawing his attention back, “you good?”
He blinked, clearly realizing he’d been caught and straightened. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
Nishi smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Thinking, huh? Didn’t look like thinking to me.”
Aurora raised an eyebrow but said nothing, focusing instead on flipping through a stack of receipts she’d found on the desk. “Focus,” she said sharply, though the faintest twitch was at the corner of her mouth.
Victor cleared his throat, avoiding Nishi’s knowing gaze, and turned his attention to the laptop. “Let’s see if there’s anything useful here.”
I bit back a grin, watching the interaction unfold. As much as the tension in the air weighed on all of us, moments like this reminded me that we were still human—or at least most of us were. And in a world as dark as ours, that humanity mattered more than I liked to admit.
Pulling open another drawer, I kept my focus on the task at hand. Somewhere in this mess, the answer to Brody Hansen’s murder was waiting.
Nishi leaned casually against the edge of the desk, her eyes flicking between Aurora and Victor. “You two should make sure the mundane authorities don’t stick their noses inthis too much,” she said, her tone deliberately light but unmistakably pointed.
Aurora paused, a stack of papers in her hands, and turned to give Nishi a look so severe it could have cut through steel. “I’m aware of how to do my job, thanks,” she said coolly.
Nishi smirked, clearly unbothered. “Just making sure. Wouldn’t want anything to slip through the cracks.”
Aurora rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further. Instead, she turned her attention back to the cluttered desk, her keen gaze scanning the items we’d pulled from the drawers. After a moment, she paused, her fingers resting on a small, sealed box tucked beneath a pile of receipts.
“What’s this?” she muttered, sliding the box toward her and peeling off the tape. She flipped open the lid and pulled out a handful of photographs. Her quick inhale drew our attention.
“What is it?” Victor asked, stepping closer.
Aurora held up a few snapshots, her expression grim. The images showed a woman and a little girl, and the candid shots were taken from a distance. The brim of a hat partially obscured the woman’s face in one, and the girl clutched a stuffed animal in another.
“He was following someone,” Aurora said, her voice low but calm. “These weren’t taken here. It looks more like a park or a playground.”
Nishi leaned in, her expression darkening. “Well, that’s not creepy at all.”
Victor took one of the photos, studying it with a frown. “If he was stalking them, it could explain why someone or something came after him.”
I rubbed my mouth, the pieces of the puzzle shifting uncomfortably in my mind. “Or,” I said, “whoever killed him wanted these people to stay off their radar. Either way, it’s not random.”
Aurora nodded, slipping the photos back into the box. “We need to find out who they are.”
“We will,” I said, glancing around the cabin one last time. “But first, let’s finish up here and deal with the kill site. I don’t want to leave the mundanes unattended for too long. I’m just going to pop over to the electronics store and grab a battery pack.”
CHAPTER 3
Ileft the others in the cabin, giving them a quick excuse about needing to grab a battery pack for the camera. It wasn’t a complete lie. I did need the battery to see what Brody had captured, but I also wanted a moment to think, to process the creeping unease that had settled in my gut since seeing those photos.
The electronics store was a short walk away. It was a tidy little shop tucked between a candle store and a bakery that smelled like cinnamon rolls and regret. Inside, I grabbed the first compatible battery pack I saw, paid the smiling cashier, who wished me a cheery “Merry Christmas,” and stepped back into the cold.
That was when I noticed the map board standing near the edge of the village. It was brightly lit, with a cheerful “Welcome to the Mystic Falls Christmas Village” banner stretched across the top and a diagram of the area beneath. As I scanned it, my eyes caught on a section labeled “Playground.”
The playground. My mind flashed back to the photos Aurora had found—the monkey bars, the woman, and the child. Brody had followed them to that playground. But why?
Without overthinking it, I started toward the site, weaving through the maze of festive decorations and candy-cane-colored fencing. The playground wasn’t far, sitting on the outskirts of the village. It was close enough to still feel like part of the festivities, but far enough to be quieter. The cheerful hum of carols faded as I stepped onto the snow-dusted woodchips, and the soft creak of the swings in the cold breeze broke the stillness.
I stopped at the edge of the playground, scanning the equipment. It was the same as in the photo—brightly painted monkey bars, a small slide, and a couple of spring-mounted animal rides. It should’ve looked inviting, but knowing what had been done, it felt… off.
Brody had been here. He’d taken photos of that woman and her child. But why? Was he watching them, or was something watching him?
I stepped closer, examining the site. Nothing was obvious. No footprints that stood out in the churned snow or discarded items that screamed for attention. I circled the monkey bars, comparing the angles to the photo in my memory. This was the spot, no doubt about it.
I moved to other landmarks from the photos, tracing Brody’s movements—the small bench where the woman had sat and the edge of the playground where the girl had played. Nothing of consequence—just mundane spaces filled with mundane memories.
