Page 32 of Little Bitter Truths
“Do you know what has happened?”
“I know I am no longer alive, but I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“I believe I died before my time, and now I’m here, trapped within these walls like a prisoner.”
“Do you know why you haven’t moved on from this life yet?”
“It feels like something isn’t finished.”
Something wasn’t finished.
Her murder wasn’t solved.
“Do you remember what happened?”I asked.“Do you know who did this to you?”
She tilted her head, studying me.“I remember a sound that wasn’t a sound.”
A sound that wasn’t a sound … the hush of a gun fitted with a suppressor.
“Did you see the person who shot you?”I asked.
Her gaze drifted past me, unfocused.“It’s the key.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The key,” she repeated.
“What about a key?”
She turned to me again, her expression now serious.“The key waits where it shouldn’t and leaves when it’s found.”
“What do you mean?Are you talking about the key to solving your murder?”
That had to be it.
The key to who killed her and why.
“The key waits where it shouldn’t and leaves when it’s found,” she repeated.
I wasn’t getting anywhere, which was often the case with dreams like these.
“You’re not making any sense,” I said.
“It’s there, and then it isn’t.”
“What’s there?”I asked.
As the question left my mouth, she blinked at me as though she’d already given me enough to piece it together.“I have faith in you, and you have faith in yourself.Do not doubt the way forward.”
“What is the way forward?”
Before she could answer, she began to fade.
“Wait,” I said, holding up my hand, palm out.“Please, don’t go yet.”
“Something is about to happen, and you will be a part of it.”
