Treadmill

XIII.II

Her heart started pounding in her chest immediately as she stared at the headline, frozen. One of her friends from high school who went to school in Florida had shared the link, captioning the news article, "So sad. He spoke at Florida State last year and was so inspirational."

Rebecca's finger hovered over the article for at least a full two minutes as she hesitated. There was no reason that this would be the person who Kennedy hit. There was no logical reason for that to have just popped up on her timeline without warning. Nothing would warrant that. For all she knew, the article could be about a completely different hit-and-run than the one she had been involved in. After all, Florida was a bit state. And it didn't say the city.

So, she clicked on the article against her better judgment, convincing herself that there was no way this would be the same guy.

The very first word of the article proved her wrong.

Tampa, FL—The body of a 30-something year old man was found early Tuesday morning by police doing a routine drive of Tampa's back roads. The body was found just a few miles from the beach. The man had been hit by a car and left on the road, with a wound to his head determined to be the ultimate cause of death. The police believe the wound was incurred by the man hitting the ground after travelling over the top of the vehicle that hit him. There have been no leads as of yet on the car that was involved, but the police have the investigation open. The man did not carry any identification on him but was found to be 34-year-old Hank Wilcox, millionaire businessman and public speaker from Miami who moved to Tampa with his wife, Elizabeth Wilcox, five years ago. Mrs. Wilcox is offering a $1 million reward for anyone who can shed any light on her husband's death or give the police leads about the driver of the car in question or about the car itself. Mr. Wilcox was well-known throughout the United States and in Florida especially for being a generous philanthropist who spent his wealth primarily on charities and donations, which his wife hopes to continue on in his name. Anyone with information about the accident or the vehicle in question should call the police department at 813-555-4726.

Rebecca dropped her phone on the ground. It wasn't a voluntary movement; she finished reading the article and her phone fell from her hand onto the ground immediately, making a soft thump as it landed on the carpet beneath her feet.

She sat still for a moment. She wasn't sure exactly how long of a moment it was. It could have been exactly a moment, or it could have been fifteen minutes' worth of a moment. But she sat there, on her bed, with her phone face down on the carpet next to her right foot, staring at the wall across from her, unmoving. She couldn't move. Everything was spinning. Everything about her life was spinning, and she hadn't even done anything.

After the indefinite moment passed, Rebecca shook her head, snapping herself back into reality. Spinning stories in her head of ending up in jail with other murderers and being disowned by her family weren't going to do anything for her. They weren't going to help. She had to act like a rational person. A person who was perfectly capable of real thoughts and real action and the real movement of picking her phone up off of the floor.

So, she did. Rebecca bent down and picked her phone up off of the floor, dusting off the random lint and hair pieces that had attached themselves to it from the carpet, and unlocked it. She went directly to her contacts before hitting 'Kennedy Abrams' and putting the phone up to her ear.

"Miss me already?" Kennedy's voice crooned over the other line after the second ring, "I knew I had that effect on men, Rebecca, but you—"

"There's a news article." Rebecca interrupted Kennedy's personal self-esteem boost in a perfect monotone, "Kennedy. Shut up. There's a news article."

Kennedy stopped talking for a second, and Rebecca could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she thought about what had just been said.

"A news article? About what?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"What do you think?"

Kennedy was quiet and Rebecca could hear rustling on the other end.

"Can you send it to me?"

Rebecca sighed for a moment turned the phone on speaker before finding the article. She hit the little 'share' button in the corner and copied the link before texting it to Kennedy.

"Did you get it?"

Kennedy muttered a soft positive response.

"Read it."

Rebecca waited patiently while Kennedy read the article, every now and then hearing a gasp from the girl who had much more to lose in the situation than Rebecca did.

While she waited for Kennedy to finish reading, Rebecca continued thinking. Her thoughts came back; the thoughts about how she would end up in jail and never finish her education and die sad, alone, and surrounded by women who had been watching her go to the bathroom for half a century at that point.

"Don't worry about this."

Rebecca jumped a bit when Kennedy finally spoke, her eyes widening at the words.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't worry about it." Kennedy repeated, her voice back to its usual uninterested, unbothered lilt, "We covered everything. I ensured that nothing would be traced back to us or your car. Everything is going to be completely fine, Rebecca. No one is going to find anything. This reward offer is a good thing; so many people are going to be giving them fake leads that they're going to get tired of searching for a real one."

Rebecca was quiet.

"You're sure?"

The other end was silent for so long that Rebecca thought Kennedy might have hung up.

"Kennedy?"

"Yes." The other girl finally answered, "I'm sure. Let's get back to focusing on becoming the next Instagram model, okay?"

Rebecca nodded to herself before answering.

"Okay."

A/N: New cover for a new chapter! What do you guys think?

ALSO! Check out my new book, Sincerely, Yours, the third book in the 'Dear Sydney' saga! First chapter is up now, so be sure to give it a read and maybe a comment or two.

-Katherine