Bethany Roman’s Letter to Jake

SPOILER WARNING! DO NOT READ until you finish the book.

Jake,

If you're reading this, then something has gone very, very wrong.

Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe this letter will end up crumpled in the bottom of my suitcase and you'll never know I wrote it. I hope that's what happens. But if it isn't… There are some things I don't want left unsaid.

Coming back here was never going to be easy. I knew that before my I got sent here on an assignment I loathe. It’s beneath me. But when they told me Senator Osgood was going to be here of all places. Blackhand Hills. It felt like fate when they sent me to interview her. Like the universe wants me to be here. I know that sounds overly dramatic. I keep asking myself, what if it isn’t. So here goes.

Part of me wanted to see you again. I've heard you're seeing someone. I've heard it's serious. If that's true, I genuinely hope she's everything you've been looking for. No one deserves happiness more than you do, Jake. I won't pretend hearing it didn't hurt, but that's my burden to carry, not yours.

Still… I couldn't leave here without telling you something I've carried around for far too long. You were the only person who ever made me feel truly safe. I never said that out loud, and I've regretted it for years. If I had one thing to do over, it wouldn't be changing the day we met. It would be telling you sooner what you mean to me.

Now I need to tell you why I'm really writing. The story I came here to investigate wasn't supposed to be anything more than a local interest piece. I don't think that anymore. A source contacted me claiming someone had installed hidden cameras around the resort. Not in guest rooms. In places where the seasonal employees shower and change after work. Most of them are college kids. At first I thought this was just another voyeur—a sick employee obsessed with one particular young woman. Now I'm not so sure.

The evidence I've seen is credible. More importantly, some of the things my source has said don't fit together. The closer I've gotten to the truth, the less I trust the person who first brought it to me. I can't tell you who it is. Not yet. If I'm wrong, I could destroy someone's life. If I'm right…

I'm not convinced my source is the whistleblower. I'm beginning to think he may be involved. Something else doesn't feel right either. I think someone is following me. Maybe it's coincidence. Maybe I'm spending too much time chasing shadows. But I've started noticing the same vehicles. The same faces. The same feeling that someone knows where I am before I get there.

I haven't told my producer. Not because I don't trust her. Because I don't trust what might happen if this story reaches the wrong desk. I recently learned the owner of the resort has a close personal relationship with the owner of my station. Maybe it's innocent. Maybe it isn't. But until I know for certain, I can't shake the feeling that if I hand over everything I've collected, this story could disappear before it ever sees daylight.

Maybe I'm being paranoid. I hope I am.

There's one more thing. Pay attention to Baylee Tremblay. I can't explain why yet. I don't have enough to accuse her of anything, and she may be completely innocent. But every time I interview her, I leave with more questions than answers. She knows something. Whether she's frightened or protecting someone, I don't know.

Tomorrow morning I'm placing copies of the SD cards I've recovered into a safety deposit box. If anything happens to me before this story is finished, that's where I'd start.

Maybe you'll laugh when I show you this letter a year from now over coffee, and you'll tell me I spent too much time watching conspiracy documentaries. I'd love for that to happen.

Take care of yourself, Jake. And if I never get the chance to tell you this in person…

Thank you.

I know I can trust you with all this. Talk soon.

Bethany