The Truth Hurts

33 │delusional

"I'm telling you... He was there, Morgan!" Taylor says, frantically pushing buttons on her camera as she attempts to go through the pictures taken earlier that night. Although the cracked screen is lit up, nothing but a dark cyan hue glares from behind the broken glass. She paces back-and-forth in front of the window, feeling her frustration grow with each step she takes.

Morgan leans his back against the tall dresser in his bedroom near the closed door, staring at her as if she were deranged. He shakes his head in denial, knowing that—or hoping really—what she saw wasn't real. It couldn't have been. "Taylor, you were there at his house. For crying out loud, you saw the condition he was in! There's no way he could be up and running around. And at bars of all places?"

"The nurse did say that he was recovering."

He runs his hands vigorously through his spiked hair, wanting to avoid this subject at all costs. "Yeah, well that sounds a hell of a lot better than telling us that he's still suffering from severe burns to his entire body. Don't ya think?"

Adamant, she shakes her head as she refuses to believe it was just an illusion. "Look, I know what I saw."

"Do you? You were drunk." He says, clearly wanting to drop it. "From the looks of it, you still are. Get some sleep."

"Damnit Morgan, I'm not drunk! Garret was there!" Getting pissed that he is so eager to dismiss it, she continues to push buttons before flipping the camera over. She pops open a small compartment to pull out a thin roll of film. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'll prove it."

"Taylor, sober up." He takes a deep breath. "Look, in the morning, if you're still convinced that you saw him, we can drop by his house and pay a visit to clear your mind."

Nodding, she turns around to set the camera and the roll of film down on the computer desk in front of the window. Whether or not she wants to admit it out loud, she knows that she is still rather intoxicated. The image of Garrett's scarred face has been haunting her for the past few weeks now. Maybe it has manifested itself so much into her mind that she's starting to see things that are not really there. Talk about being haunted by your past...

"Does that sound good?"

She gazes back up at him from the desk, sighing again as she rubs at her forehead. "Yeah. Fine."

"Now get some rest." He backs up to the wall to give her space to walk out the room, signaling her to leave. "We'll talk in the morning."

She nods, heading for the bedroom door just as somebody knocks heavily on it from the other side. The two glance at each other before Morgan reaches over to grab the doorknob, pulling it open.

Riley stands in the hallway, clearly distraught as he stares blankly forward at them. Words can barely escape his mouth. "It's Cesar—"

"Yeah?" Morgan asks, stepping forward. He can see the dismay in Riley's eyes and can already tell that something is terribly wrong. "What about him?"

"He's dead."

♫ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ / ᴍɪᴋᴋʏ ᴇᴋᴋᴏ ♫