I am the ghost accusing her.
Not Vanessa Lyons.
Me.
But that isn’t possible. We saw the orb three weeks ago. The comments started three weeks ago. How could I be the one…?
My gaze shifts to the mug prominently displayed on the screen. TheDoctor Whomug from Rory, with the time travel quote I’d said on the show.
Things don’t always happen in the right order…
Footsteps thunder down the hallway.
“Hannah? Hannah!”
It’s Rory.
Oh God,Rory. He’s about to race in and find my body. I spin, as if I can stop him, but he’s already frozen in the doorway, his gaze on the floor. Then it lifts to me.
“Sit,” he says, rolling the chair toward me. “You hit your head, and there’s blood… Damn it! Where the hell is Trinity? Did she just shove you down and take off?”
“You can see me?”
His brow furrows. “Of course I can…” He sputters a ragged laugh. “How badly did you hit your head, Hannah? No, you’re not a ghost. Sit down for a minute, and then we’re getting you to the hospital.”
As he puts me in the chair, he explains that he saw part of the fight on the hidden camera. Without any sound, he only caught a glimpse of Trinity pushing me, in the screen reflection. Then he saw me crumple to the floor. He caught an Uber and spent twenty minutes banging on the door before breaking in through a back window.
“Fucking Trinity,” he mutters. “I hope this is the hint you need, Hannah. She’s no friend of yours, and you have to get out before…”
He trails off, his gaze fixed on something behind me. I turn to see he’s looking at blood on the floor, a pool of it creeping from behind the desk.
I’m about to say that’s just mine. Then I realize it’s in the wrong spot—I fell on the other side of the desk, and this is apoolof blood, trickling along a crack between the floorboards.
That’s when I see Trinity’s sneaker.
I bolt up from the chair so fast my head lurches. Rory grabs my arm to steady me. Then we make our way to the desk. There, on the other side, sits Trinity, holding her slashed wrists on her lap. Dead eyes stare at us.
There’s a note by her leg. I pick it up as Rory hurries to check for a pulse that I know he won’t find.
I skim the note. It’s barely legible, a crazed rant about my trick with the orb and the comments, how I tried to drive her off, and we argued, and I fell, and Trinity knew everyone would blame her, just as they did with Vanessa.
“She thought she killed me,” I whisper.
“What?” Rory takes the note and skims it. “Wow. I knew she was unstable, but she lost it. She totally lost it.”
He’s still talking. I don’t hear him. I’m staring at the screen as that figure behind Trinity slowly comes into focus. It’s a slender young woman with long dark hair. I see the ghost’s shirt—a pale blue V-neck. My gaze goes to Trinity’s body…wearing a pale blue V-neck.
That’s when the comments begin to scroll.
gonegirl5:
You’re alive, and I’m not, and that’s your fault, Hannah.
gonegirl5:
Everyone’s going to know what you did to me.
gonegirl5:
