18 • Flashbacks

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"Have you received any more white roses after that first evening?" Agent Callaway asks, breaking the silence.


After telling him about discarding one of the key pieces of evidence, the room had grown rather quiet. Everyone had been looking at me, attempting to comprehend why I would throw away something that important.


"Yes, almost every night," I half-whisper, not wanting to lie anymore. "A couple days ago, this came with the rose. It's the only physical message he's sent so far."


I pass the note to Callaway, who examines it carefully. Officer Jenkins' eyes narrow at me as he questions my words. "What do you mean by 'only physical message'?"


A panicking feeling rises to my throat as I try to figure out what to say. I can't tell them about the texts or calls, they'll take away my phone for good, which would take away my contact with Xavier. "Nothing," I tell him firmly. "It's nothing, wrong choice of words."


Jenkins still gives me a suspicious look, but doesn't say anything more. Agent Callaway looks back to me, handing the note to one of his other agents. "Is there anything else Skylar?"


I decide to keep my mouth shut about the realistic dream I had about my stalker running his hand over my arm and neck. "No, that's it."


His eyes narrow. "Are you sure, Skylar?"


I nod quickly, "Yes."


Agent Callaway sighs and stands up, his posture slumped like he's exhausted. "Make sure all of your windows are locked at night, and if he drops by again, let me know. I'll make sure I have agents assigned to watch over you and your mother, Skylar."


I nod again, pulling myself to my feet. I extend my hand for Officer Jenkins, and then Agent Callaway to shake. When Jenkins takes my hand, his grip is firm, and it almost crushes my fingers. The look in his eyes is unpleasant, and I try not to squirm under his gaze. It's almost as if he's trying to read my mind, unearth everything that I haven't told them. He seems almost too interested about what has gone on for the past few weeks, so intrigued that he had snapped at an FBI agent. Finally, his grip lessens and he mutters quietly, "We'll see you soon, Melanie."


By the neutral looks on everyone's faces, I can tell they didn't hear what he had said. I rip my hand away, giving him a small glare. My skin is still crawling from Jenkins' words when I shake Callaway's hand.


We'll see you soon? What does he mean? And, why did he say my real name?


"Remember to call if anything, absolutely anything arises, I want to be the first to know," Callaway tells me firmly.


As I watch the swarm of cops and agents leave, I notice Jenkins giving me that look again, the analyzing one. He wants to see my reaction to his words. He wants to see the panic in my eyes before he leaves, I can tell.


I cannot let him see that I'm weak; I don't want to seem like a sniveling sixteen year old girl who can't function by herself. I straighten my posture and stare right into his brown eyes, challenging him to see if he'll react. Jenkins doesn't take the bait however, and walks out of the door without a word.

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