Sadly, no

“911, what is your emergency?” An operator’s voice said over the line. There was silence. Sarah glanced up at her ace in the hole, that being the reassuring red glow of one of the cameras mounted on the corner of the house. The pins and needles in her fingers that would have caused them to move with an adrenaline-fueled speed were now leaden weights, rooting her to the ground. She couldn’t bring herself to talk as what she could only surmise was shock began to overtake her.

“Hello?” the dispatcher called out; the concern now more tangible in her voice. She was about to repeat herself when Sarah cut the line. She could feel a burning swell in her throat as an act she had not performed in years ushered forth in the form of an anguished wail as, for the first time in years, the stinging trail of tears began to pull their way down her cheeks. It was a nearly infinitesimal moment compared to the years of cultivated stoicism and poise, however, as she quickly summoned up the strength to silence her sobs and simply curled up on the floor.

She couldn’t think of another way to describe it besides crippling fear. What stopped her from making the call? It would have been so damn easy. Hell, she even had security footage of the stranger. Though the tears stopped, there was an inner roil that threatened to tear her apart and it made her want to scream. Still, she fought tooth and nail to keep her composure despite clutching her own knees to her chest in the middle of a guest bedroom. The light blue pastiche wallpaper seemed to stare with accusatory fury down at her as though there was something more she could have done while being dragged down by what felt like her very soul. Bite them back. Sarah considered her options for a long while as the walls of the guest bedroom threatened to consume her. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or a warped perspective through her teary eyes, but with each blink they seemed closer and closer.

Sarah considered her options for a long while as the walls of the guest bedroom threatened to consume her. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or a warped perspective through her teary eyes, but with each blink they seemed to move closer and closer. On one hand, it would be so easy to just forget this. To put this all behind her and never have to think about the rugged, emotionless stranger ever again. To forge Doyle, and Martin’s bullshit plan, and just retreat into her own world again. And yet, there as another path that seemed to call to her. One that existed not as a beaten, well worn footpath but a tiny break in the thickets that one would only see if they were looking for it. Doyle was clearly no normal boy, that much was for sure. Her own interest was piqued in a morbid, bone chilling way. There was nothing for her here and yet when she thought of the soft-spoken albeit dedicated student who so clearly wavered between academic dedication and his own personal affairs. She was familiar with his work and knew he was a bright student though it was clear he could apply himself a bit more rigorously. She could see it in his eyes after every lecture that he wanted to stay behind to ask questions in a more one on one setting. It was clear Martin chose her for a reason. She was an in for interested parties to find out more about the situation and, after today's events, she was if anything, among that crowd . Though her thoughts on remaining such an asset were always in question, the escalation the stranger presented all but screamed at her that a more concrete decision had to be made.