Page 84 of Hunter's Hidden Camera
We start moving towards the front entrance.
“If you’re up for it, we should file a police report too,” Patricia suggests.
“No!” I yell.
“Okay, okay, we can talk about it tomorrow after you’ve gotten some rest.”
Darin and Henry wait for an Uber to take them home for the night, while the rest of us head for Jo’s car. I keep looking back at the hospital to see if Nash or Nikolai emerge, but they don’t. Darin and Henry just think I’m looking atthem. So Darin waves at me with his fingers in the most flamboyant way possible.
When we reach Jo’s car, both Oscar and I notice that it’s parked next to a black SUV. I now think we parked next to it when we first got here, but I didn’t notice it until now.
I grab the back door handle of Jo’s car and pull on it repeatedly, desperately.
“Hold on, Hunter,” says Jo, before clicking her key fob and unlocking the doors.
Oscar and I hurriedly get in the backseat.
“What’s going on, Hunter? They here?” Oscar asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
Jo backs out of the parking spot, and I keep my eyes on the SUV, which appears empty.
As the car heads toward the street, Oscar taps me on my arm. “Yo, Hunter.”
I keep watching the SUV. “What?”
Oscar asks, “Does Alessandra have a twin sister?”
“No. Why?”
“Then who’sthat?“ says Oscar.
I turn my head. Oscar is pointing out his window. Walking alongside our car, ignoring us, heading towards the front entrance of the hospital with a quick stride, is a girl who looks exactly like . . .
We pass by the girl, and I twist my neck, causing much pain, to look at her out the back window.
“Holy fuck,” I say. “Is that Alessandra?”
Oscar also looks out the back window. “Dude. ThatisAlessandra. What the fuck is going on, Hunter?”
“Stop the car!” I scream.
Jo is so startled that she slams on the brakes, and we come to a complete stop.
The screech of the tires against the pavement catches the girl’s attention and causes her to stop walking. She makes direct eye contact with me. She seems surprised to see me, but then her expression turns into what looks like anger. But perhaps more than anger. It’s unbridled rage.
She starts running toward the car. But I can’t move a muscle.
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Because all of the doors of Jo’s car are locked, the girl who looks like Alessandra pounds on my window. “Hunter!”
“Who’s that?” asks Patricia.
“It’s . . .” I’m so confused right now. “I think it’s my brother’s girlfriend.”
