Chapter 20 · The Death File

The lock clicks behind me and I don't turn around.

I'm staring at my own corpse. Six angles. Different cameras. My face in the dirt, blood pooling under my cheek, eyes open and empty. Someone printed them poster-size and mounted them like gallery pieces.

The surveillance shots are worse. Me in the cafeteria three weeks ago. Walking to class. In my dorm window. All from this life. All recent.

Someone's been watching since day one.

"You were supposed to wait."

Cain's voice. I spin around and he's leaning against the door, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He looks tired. Like he's been up for days.

"You locked me in," I say.

He doesn't deny it. "Marcus was about to follow you. I told him I'd handle it."

"Handle what? Your creepy stalker shrine?"

His jaw tightens. "It's not mine."

"Then whose?"

He doesn't answer. Just pushes off the door and walks past me to the far wall. There's a metal cabinet I didn't notice before, half-hidden behind the photos. He pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks it.

Inside are files. Dozens of them. Color-coded. Tagged with dates and ID numbers.

He pulls one out. Red label.