The Coworker

by Freida McFadden

The phone on her desk is still ringing. Usually, the caller’s number flashes on the screen, but it’s not this time. It’s a blocked number.

More silence. Just when I’m about to hang up, two words are spoken in a tortured female voice that send an icy chill down my spine: “Help me.” And then the line goes dead.

That’s when I notice the chair overturned, lying on the floor. I creep closer, squinting into the darkness. And then I see what’s on the carpet. And I scream.

He can’t possibly know about… No, I’m being paranoid.

Oh? Something uwanna tell us?

The note was written in red ink. Scribbled, really. The handwriting was messy but large enough that it was easy to read what it said: If you touch my husband again, I will kill you.

While I was cleaning, one of the shards sliced into my finger, but I ignored it, even when a drop of blood trickled out.

Seth Hoffman, my boss, is standing on my doorstep.

Why.

“Because,” he says, “we found Dawn’s body early this morning.”

It’s a ceramic turtle. And it’s covered in blood.

The tiny turtle figurine. It’s back on my desk. No. It can’t be. It can’t be. I threw it out. Twice. I didn’t just throw it out, but I brought it all the way to the garbage in the break room.

Part II

YES.

I’ve been watching the news all morning. Over and over. I can’t get enough of it. That moment when the detective steps out of the crowd and tells Natalie she’s under arrest.

YOU'RE ALIVE

Three loud knocks on the door to my room. He’s here.

I told you I would get vengeance. I told you I wouldn’t let Natalie get away with killing you. I made a promise on the day you died, and today, I honored that promise. I love you. I will never forget you. Sincerely, Dawn Schiff

That’s how she managed to work in a cubicle next to mine for nine months without realizing that the two of us went to high school together, albeit briefly.

Caleb. Mia’s brother.

Oh my God. It’s Caleb.

I have to kill her. Caleb would never let me do it, but he’s not here right now. He can’t stop me. I have to end this. Right here. Right now.

“Tara Wilkes,” I choke out. Tara Wilkes. My old best friend from high school. The one who sat with me writing fake valentines to Amelia Hodge all those years ago.

She’s a very dangerous woman. And nobody knows but me.

She’d be proud that I avenged her death by killing Tara Wilkes.

We will keep each other’s secrets to the grave. Dawn may be dangerous. But so am I.