Page 38 of The Arbiter
UNKNOWN:“You already know the answer, Madeline.”
This manipulation with the “you already know,” shit, is really starting to get on my nerves.
ME:“Why did you do it?”
A long pause follows. When the reply comes, it’s only one line.
UNKNOWN:“He hurt you.”
I stare at the message for several seconds before responding.
ME:“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
Three dots appear. Disappear. Then appear again.
When the answer finally arrives, it sends a slow chill through my back.
UNKNOWN:“Everything about you is my decision.”
I sit back in my chair, staring at the screen. Fear. Anger. Something else I don’t want to name.
I type another message.
ME:“You’re watching me, aren’t you?”
A long pause follows. So long I start to think he won’t answer. Then the phone buzzes.
UNKNOWN:“I always am.”
My eyes lift again toward the security camera.
The building has grown quieter. The mortuary feels different at night. Bigger. Hollower. Like the walls themselves are listening.
I look back down at the phone.
ME:“You can’t keep doing this.”
No reply. Seconds pass. Then minutes. The typing bubble never appears. I wait. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. Nothing. The silence begins to feel heavier than the conversation.
Finally I set the phone down on the desk. Maybe he’s done. Maybe he just wanted to scare me. The evening light outside the windows slowly fades into deep blue. Shadows stretch across the room as the building settles into nighttime quiet.
An hour passes. I’m halfway through reviewing another report when my phone vibrates again.
UNKNOWN:“Go to the second floor. Now.”
My fingers freeze.
Another message appears before I can respond.
UNKNOWN:“Cold storage.”
My pulse spikes instantly. The room with the body drawers. The place where I left Jake.
ME:“No.”
UNKNOWN:“Madeline.”
Only my name. One word and I know it’s a warning. Suddenly the entire building feels a lot less empty than it did an hour ago.
