SIENNA
The walls of the dark closet closed in on me as the temperature climbed with each passing second. Just a bit longer. I was so close to getting out of here. One more try. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took a deep breath before centering my focus on the script on the glowing laptop screen in front of me. I hit record.
“Most of you have been on this journey with me for the past year from the very start,” I read into the microphone on the floor. “I wanted to thank you all for your support. It’s because of you that the first episode of Killer Smile is going to drop in two days. You’re getting twenty—yes, twenty—episodes exposing Mateo Rossi’s cult and the disappearance of my best friend, Kadie King.”
I paused and smiled to myself as I took a breath before continuing. “We’re going to get justice for Kadie and everyone else pulled into Rossi’s orbit, just like I promised at the start of this. Thank you all so much for keeping my lights on this past year as I devoted myself to uncovering what’s been going on at Rossi Manor. I hope you’re ready to be blown away by the things lurking behind Mateo Rossi’s killer smile.“
Satisfied with that take, I stopped the recording, flung open my closet door, and collapsed on the rough beige carpet. Sweet, sweet relief. I breathed in the stale and only slightly less warm air of my studio apartment. Air conditioning was a luxury that a struggling journalist couldn’t afford. Lucky for me, I could edit my latest podcast episode at the coffee shop down the street. The cool air was plentiful there and it would only cost me a cup of coffee. I needed the caffeine anyway.
It was nine in the morning and I’d been up since five putting the finishing touches on various parts of Killer Smile. It was my podcast that I’d crowdfunded by giving sponsors weekly updates on production, hosting live video chats, and providing sneak peeks of what was to come. I rolled over and stared up at my crumbling popcorn ceiling. It’s finally happening.
I was so close to being out of this place. The crowdfunding had been just enough for a very modest lifestyle. I hoped it was all going to pay off in two days. A few companies were waiting on the sidelines to place ads in future episodes. If I made great numbers with the first episodes, I would prove it was worth their investment.
For now, though, I needed to get my last update edited. I couldn’t wait to show my supporters a screenshot of the most recent email I’d received from Rossi asking for an interview. I refused each time. Turning down an interview with your subject was a weird and uncomfortable move for a journalist. Mateo Rossi wasn’t just anyone, though. He was dangerous. The man was handsome, charismatic, and had made my friend disappear off the face of the Earth. He already had so many people fooled into believing he wasn’t a cult leader.
Those of us who had delved into Kadie’s disappearance knew there was something more there. I would never risk him doing that cult leader charisma magic on me. I couldn’t deviate from the genuine matter at hand. Kadie’s disappearance. The podcast hitting it big could get law enforcement interested in the case again.
“One more day,” I told myself as I hopped up and stretched out my sore body.
The closet was the only place where I could record anything halfway decent. However, it made each recording a sweltering, cramped event. Even though I was a small five feet, it was still a rough fit that required some pretzel-like positions. I hoped my walk down to the cafe would loosen up my tight body. A long day was ahead, and I was going to spend all of it hunched over my laptop.
I pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt before I tossed my red hair into a bun. It was far too long for anything else these days. Maybe soon I’d be able to afford more than a careful snip at the ends with my rusted cuticle scissors. It was hard to not get too excited at the thought. I knew I had something good here. It helped that Kadie was my best friend, so I scored what no one else ever would: exclusive interviews with her family. The things they had to say about Mateo would blow the minds of everyone who listened.
Grabbing my overheated laptop from the closet, I stuffed it in my messenger bag, grabbed my keys, and rushed out of my apartment.
***
Someone new stood behind the counter at Lux Cafe when I arrived a few minutes later. The owner, who had named Lux after herself, normally manned the register. Her employees worked in the back, making various baked goodies and roasting coffee.
The cafe had never been so quiet, nor this empty. The willowy blonde who had taken Lux’s place greeted me with a wide smile.
As I approached, she rushed to say, “Fair warning, this is my first day and you’re my first customer, so I’m super sorry if I mess this up.”
I gave her a smile to let her know I came in peace. “Consider me the easiest customer you’ll ever get. Just a cup of black coffee for me.”
“Um, which one?” She swept her eyes toward the menu and gave a nervous wave of her hands in its general direction. Lux roasted several locally famous blends, and I’d had them all more than once.
“Whatever you think I’d like.”
“You want me to choose?” she asked, her brown eyes wide. “Like, for real?”
I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“O-okay,” she said with a giggle. Nose scrunched, she looked me over once before nodding to herself. “I think I know exactly which one you’ll like.”
“Oh?”
“Yup.” She gave me a small, secretive smile.
With an amused raise of my brows, I paid for the cup and stepped aside. As I waited, I scroll through my phone. Before long, I found myself absorbed in the comments on my last sponsorship update from a few days ago. A lot of them were growing more concerned as the release date neared.
Aren’t you scared? Mateo could destroy you.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t given it some thought before. I’d received that same comment a hundred times. I was targeting a handsome multi-millionaire with a rabid fanbase. Yes, of course, I was worried about what would happen.
The tone of the emails Rossi sent me to demand an interview had grown increasingly short. Rossi was going to be gunning for me when I released the podcast. Legally or otherwise. Honestly, though, his fans troubled me more.
Several of them paid to get access to my private feed and trolled with a vicious commitment that gave me shivers. I’d wake up to countless disparaging comments on every single post in my feed’s history. Early in my research, I had to shut down any social media that wasn’t strictly for the podcast because they went after my family and friends. These were women and men who had never even been within a football field of Rossi. That was how far his charm extended. It didn’t matter if the real members of his cult were behind the walls of Rossi Manor. He was developing a devoted army outside of it, too. Those people were more frightening than his reclusive little cult.
“Careful now.” A voice sliced through my thoughts and jolted my attention from my phone. The long-limbed blonde had come out from behind the counter and now stood at my side. Her expression was utterly void of emotion. I hadn’t realized just how much taller than me she was until now. That made sense, though. After all, most people were taller than me.
“Careful?” I asked with a laugh. “What do you mean?”
That eerie stillness her gaze had held seconds ago seemed like a figment of my imagination when she beamed.
“The coffee?” she said with a giggle. “Just saying, it’s probably super hot. To be completely honest, I’m not totally sure I have the machine worked out just yet. Don’t even get me started on espresso.”
That was when I noticed she was holding out a lidded cup for me to take. Way to look like an idiot, Sienna. I made a silly face. “Sorry, I got lost in my phone. Y’know how it goes.”
“No worries,” she said as I took the cup from her. “I really hope it isn’t completely horrible.”
“I’m sure it’s great.” After giving her a smile and a nod, I moved to my usual spot. A dark corner booth that gave me the privacy I needed not to have anyone looking over my shoulder as I worked. I set everything down, pulled out my headphones, and got to work on the audio I’d recorded in my closet this morning.
After waiting for the coffee to cool, I took a small sip and nearly spat it out. It was the most bitter brew I’d ever tasted. Out of some strange compulsion to place the blame, I glanced over at the counter and saw the barista watching me expectantly. The way she wrung her hands and looked away made my heart ache for her. It’s her first day, Sienna. Just smile and drink it.
New jobs were always rough. As someone who had worked more than her fair share of service industry jobs, I wasn’t about to be a jerk over coffee. Besides, it seemed like Lux had thrown her into the deep end by having her handle the front counter by herself. I held up my cup and mouthed a thank you before taking another sip of the awful coffee. The moment she went into the back, I planned on dumping as many sugar and cream packets into the cup as I could.
I should’ve chucked the coffee in the trash. I really should’ve. Instead, I took a sip each time I saw her out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth swallow I knew something was wrong. A fog blanketed my thoughts, rendering them silent. I tried to stand, but my limbs grew sluggish. The screen in front of me blurred to nothing more than a glowing smear of white and black.
Unable to support my head any longer, my cheek smashed into the laptop keyboard with a dull thunk that didn’t even register as pain. I couldn’t feel anything. Endless error sounds echoed through my headphones and grew distant with each passing second. There was a blur suddenly at my side, and I struggled to shift my focus to it. The barista. She looked down at me with confusion in her eyes. Who taught you how to make coffee?
