The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter three

Chapter Three

Lexington Robinson didn't hear about the killings until they became the most trending story across the internet. For all the news outlets in the Dallas area, it was the blessing of the year to be able to write about such a hot new subject. Everyone was rushing to hear the details, to spread the word and take all the publicity they could get. The whispers were everywhere, from work to her own dinner table. It seemed all people could talk about was a brutal set of homicides without ever getting tired of it.

The police hadn't released too many details, but the gossip circling gave just the right amount of insight. It made her nauseous to hear the specifics. Lexi had always been queasy about blood.

She walked into the kitchen two days after the third murder. Her aunt was watching the news on a small, boxy TV that rested on the counter next to the toaster. Every so often, she would tweak the antennas, trying to get the best sound.

"Dammit," Delaney swore in her deep Texan drawl. She smacked the top of the TV set, annoyed. "I keep getting bad reception."

Quinton Robinson, who was sitting at the table twirling his spoon through a bowl of stale cheerios snorted. "Aunt Delaney, the TV ain't worth shit. Go get another one."

"We don't have the money for that," she reminded him, indignantly taking a bite of her toast.

Lex faintly made out the broadcaster's grave tone. The woman stood in front of a rundown motel with a mic in her hands, her voice droning on amid a static sound erupting from the small speakers on the television set. Lexi wondered if Aunt Delaney would give up and turn the damn thing off, but it seemed unlikely.

"Morning, Delaney," Lex said, wandering toward the fridge.

"Good morning, Lexi," Delaney replied, her gaze fixed on the screen. "Have you been keeping up with this?"

"Nah." Lexi unscrewed the cap on the carton of orange juice. "I like to mind my own business."

"I mind my business just fine," Aunt Delaney protested.

"Says the woman who knows the gossip about everyone on the street," Quinton chimed in.

Delaney raised a spatula threateningly. "That's not true, Q. I'm getting too old for this."

"You're only thirty-three," Lexi said, fighting a laugh.

"I feel older," Delaney argued.

"Okay then," Quinton said, raising his eyebrows. He dumped what was left of his soggy cereal in the sink and kissed both women on the cheek. "I better get to my lecture."

"Didn't that start thirty minutes ago?" Lexi asked, checking the clock.

Quinton smiled cheekily. "Yup."

His red hair, the same auburn shade Lexi shared with him, peeked out from under the brim of the worn Astros cap he never left the house without. He kept it backward at all times, and it drove Lexi crazy whenever he did it.

"Would you fix your damn hat?" Lexi called after him.

"Never!" He was out the door before anyone could reply, pulling it closed behind him with a thud.

"That boy," Delaney remarked. "I'm telling you, he's gonna get fired from every job he ever has."

"Definitely," Lexi agreed.

"Are you working this morning?" Delaney asked.

She nodded. "Unfortunately."

"Well, don't say it like that."