Chapter 4: Everything Tyler Thought He Knew
"He has a phone in there," Tyler said.
"Yes."
"He's texting me from inside the basement."
"Yes."
Tyler set his own phone face-down on the hallway table.
He didn't respond to the message.
That told me more than anything he could have said out loud.
"How long have you known him?" I asked.
"Since October." Tyler leaned against the wall.
"We met in a study group.
He said he was transferring from a school in Seattle.
He knew everybody's names already, the professors, the buildings.
I thought he'd just done his research."
"Or someone told him."
Tyler looked at me.
"Who would tell him?"
"I don't know yet.
But someone gave him enough information to walk into this house knowing my name and my face."
From behind the door, Marcus knocked twice.
Not frantically.
Two slow, deliberate knocks.
"Tyler," he said.
"I know this looks bad.
But I need you to think about the last eight months.
Everything we talked about.
Everything I told you about myself.
Does that sound like someone who would hurt you?"
Tyler's eyes went to the door.
I watched his face.
He wanted to believe it.
Of course he did.
Eight months is a long time.
Long enough to build something that feels completely real.
"He's good at this," I said quietly.
"You don't know that."
"The article said the same thing.
That the families described him as warm.
Thoughtful.
That he remembered small details about people.
That he made everyone feel like the most important person in the room."
Tyler's jaw worked.
"That's just — that's just who he is."
"Tyler.
He texted you from a locked room telling you not to let me call anyone.
That is not someone who wants to clear up a misunderstanding.
That is someone managing a situation."
Silence.
Then Marcus again, his voice dropping lower, more personal.
"Tyler, I love you.
Whatever your mother thinks she knows, I love you.
Don't let her do this to us."
I watched Tyler's eyes fill.
He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"I'm so sorry this is happening."
"What if you're wrong?" he whispered.
"Then I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to both of you.
I will get down on my knees if I have to." I put my hand on his arm.
"But I am not wrong."
My phone rang.
The police dispatcher I had reached while Tyler was still coming down the hallway, the call I'd kept open in my pocket.
I raised it to my ear.
"Ma'am, we have two units about four minutes out.
Can you confirm the individual is still contained?"
"Yes," I said.
Tyler heard that.
He understood then that I had called before the conversation, before the text message, before any of it.
I hadn't been deciding.
I had already decided the moment I saw that face.
He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.
I sat down next to him.
We didn't speak.
From behind the door there was a long silence, and then the sound of Marcus moving.
Not pacing.
Something more deliberate.
A drawer, maybe.
Or a shelf.
May you like
Tyler heard it too.
"What is he doing in there?" he said.
