Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Machine
The truth was a weapon, but it was a rusted one.
Julian spent the next week digging. He didn't use the police; he used his own resources. He found the burner phone Brooke had used to text her dealer that night, the one she’d dropped in the floorboards. He found the mechanic who had been paid to “lose” the vehicle’s black box data.
But the most damning piece of evidence was something I had kept hidden, afraid to use it because it meant destroying my own life alongside hers.
I had an audio recording.
Six months ago, in the car, moments before the barrier, Brooke had been arguing with her then-boyfriend. She was intoxicated, screaming at him through the phone, ignoring the road. I had been recording a voice note for my physical therapy patients, and I hadn't turned the recorder off.
I gave the drive to Julian in the hospital parking lot, my hands trembling as I handed him the key to her downfall.
“She’s planning a destination wedding in two weeks,” Julian said, sliding the drive into his pocket. “She wants to be married before the investigation into the rooftop push gains any traction. She thinks she has the time.”
“She’ll destroy you to keep this quiet,” I warned.
“Let her try,” he said.
That evening, Brooke came into my room. She didn't bring flowers. She brought silence. She walked to the window, looking out over the city.
“Julian is sniffing around,” she said, her voice devoid of its usual sugar. “You told him, didn't you?”
“I told him the truth,” I said, sitting up in the bed, my spine aching.
May you like
Brooke turned, her eyes dark, the mask fully dropped. “You think he’ll choose you? You’re broken, Claire. You’re a liability. You’re the shadow. Shadows don't survive in the sun.”
She leaned down, her face inches from mine. “If you don't call him and tell him you lied, I’ll tell the world about your 'medication addiction.' I’ll tell them you’re suicidal. I’ll make sure you never leave this hospital.”
