Page 73 of Aperture

Wyatt is at my door before I even have a chance to finish steeping my tea. I answer the door before he has a chance to knock.

“Is everything OK?” he asks as he walks in.

“Yes. It’s fine. I talked to Theo today.”

I can’t make out the expression on his face. “Did you confront him about what we saw?”

“Yes.”

He’s anxious to get more information. “And what happened?”

“I broke up with him. Just like I said I was going to.”

“Millie, that could’ve been dangerous. I wish you had told me so that I could have been here.”

“I’m capable of breaking up with my cheating boyfriend without a chaperone, Wyatt.”

“It’s more than that,” he says. “He’s dangerous.”

“That’s just it. I don’t believe that he is,” I shrug. “He’s messed up somehow. I will give you that. But I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the couch.

I slowly sink down into the cushion and he kneels beside me so that we are eye to eye. He grabs my hand and meets my eyes with intent.

“I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen to me. Really listen to me,” he begs.

My entire body is tingling and I’m terrified of what he’s going to tell me, but I give him a small nod.

“I’m not in Sierra Falls by accident,” he says calmly. “I followed Theo here.”

“Why would you do that?” I ask.

“Because I suspect that he is a serial killer.” Wyatt’s face is stone as he says it, and it seems so absurd that I can’t help but laugh.

“What?” I ask. “I know you hate him, but that’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”

“I don’t hate him, Millie. I fear him. I have seen the darkness in him and I trust my instincts,” he says matter of factly.

“Your instincts?” I question. “That’s what you’re basing this off of? Do you have any proof?”

“I have three dead girls and a missing girl from college. He was in the area during all of the incidents. He fits the profile and I KNOW him,” he emphasizes. “And you look like the other victims.”

“OK,” I exhale, “Let’s say for a moment that I believe you. You’re telling me that I was dating a serial killer? That I could’ve loved a serial killer?”

Wyatt stands up and looks at me like I’ve just slapped him across the face. “You don’t love him, Millie. You can’t.”

“I can’t? Are you fucking serious, Wyatt? You think you can tell me how I feel?”

“No, fuck!” he says exasperated. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant that you don’t know him. The real him. So you can’t possibly love him.”

“So, who is he, Wyatt? A crazy serial killer who moonlights as an oil salesman and doting uncle?”

“He is not crazy, Millie. He is the smartest person I have ever met. But yes, he has a job and a family, just like a lot of sociopaths.”

I push away from Wyatt and start to pace. “I don’t want to hear this, Wyatt. It’s not true. You have the wrong guy.”

“I don’t have the wrong guy, Millie.” He places his hands on my shoulders to steady me. “I don’t,” he repeats.