Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
I became a ghost in my own life. I took leave from work, my focus entirely on building a case that the police—who were friends with Harrison—wouldn't ignore. I needed proof that was impossible to refute.
I began sitting in the park near the school, watching the playground. I saw the patterns: the way he singled out quiet children, the way he moved with a predator’s grace. But I was powerless to intervene without risking my own freedom.
May you like
Then, the breakthrough came. I received an anonymous package in the mail. Inside was a flash drive. It contained deleted security footage from a hallway outside the "behavioral" room. The footage was fragmented, but it captured a moment—a fleeting, terrifying glimpse of Harrison’s hand grabbing a child’s arm with enough force to make them recoil. It wasn't the final strike, but it was the proof of intent.
I felt a surge of hope, but it was dampened by fear. If I released this, they would know it came from me. I needed more. I needed a voice.
