Murder Mystery | Herophine story

Chapter Sixteen

Josephine

Friday, October 12th 7:45pm

Four days after we're featured on the local news, the story goes national on Mikhail Powers Investigates. 

I knew it was coming, since Mikhail's producers had tried to reach my family all week. We never responded, thanks to basic common sense and also Robin's legal advice. Hero didn't either, and Inanna said she and Samuel both refused to talk as well. So the show will be airing in fifteen minutes without commentary from any of the people actually involved. 

Unless one of us is lying. Which is always a possibility. 

The local coverage was bad enough. Maybe it was my imagination, but I'm pretty sure Dad winced whenever I was brought up. The whole thing made me wish, for the hundredth time since this started, that I'd just taken that D in chemistry. 

Kathrine and I are sprawled on my bed watching the minutes on my alarm clock tick by until my debut as a national disgrace. Or rather, I am, and she's combing through the 4chan links she found through Dylan's admin site. 

"Check this out," she says, angling her laptop toward me. The long discussion thread covers a school shooting that happened last spring a few countries over. A sophomore boy concealed a handgun in his jacket and opened fire in the hallway after the first bell. Seven students and a teacher died before the boy turned the gun on himself. I have to read a few of the comments more than once before I realise the thread isn't condemning the boy, but celebrating him. It's a bunch of sickos cheering on what he did. 

"Kathrine." I burrow my head in my arms, not wanting to read any more. "What the hell is this?"

"Some forum Dylan was all over a few months back."

I raise my head to stare at her. "Dylan posted there? How do you know?"

"He used that AnarchiSK name from his blog," Kathrine replies. 

I scan the thread, but it's too long to pick out individual names. "Are you sure it's Dylan? Maybe other people use the same name."

"I've been spot-checking posts, and it's definitely Dylan," she says. "He references places in Oakwood, talks about clubs he was in at school, mentions his car a few times." Dylan drove a 1970s Volkswagen Bug that he was very proud of. Kathrine leans against the cushions, chewing on her bottom lip. "There's a lot to go through, but I'm going to read the whole thing when I have time." 

I can't think of anything I'd like to do less. "Why?" 

"The thread's full of weird people with axes to grind," Kathrine says. "Dylan might've made some enemies there. Worth looking into, anyway." She takes her laptop back and adds, "I got that encrypted file of Samuel's at the library the other day, but I can't open it, yet." 

"Girls." My mother's voice is strained as she calls upstairs. "It's time."

That's right. My entire family is watching Mikhail Powers Investigates together. Which is a circle of hell even Dante never imagined.

Kathrine shuts her laptop as I heave myself to my feet. There's a slight buzzing from inside my end table, and I open the drawer to pull out my Hero phone. Enjoy the show, his text says.

Not funny, I reply.

"Put that away," Kathrine says with mock severity. "Now is not the time."

We head downstairs to the living room, where Mom had already settled into an armchair with an exceptionally full glass of wine. Dad's in full Evening Executive mode, wearing his favourite casual fleece vest and surrounded by a half-dozen communication devices. A commercial for paper towels flashes across the television screen as Kathrine and I sit side by side on the couch and wait for Mikhail Powers Investigates to start.