Page 125 of Can You Take It?

The more I think about it, the more it starts to click. It makes sense why Izel— that I’d predicted—would send those letters. She knew damn well that whoever she was in contact with would end up dead, and those letters were her way of warning me without directly implicating herself.

And the handwriting? That makes sense now too. The writing on the enrollment paper wasn’t Izel’s—it was Isla’s.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask, barely holding onto the edge of control.

Luna swallows, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Izel gave a statement. It was buried in her file—the one my father kept under wraps. Martin... he shared some details with me. He told me that if Izel ever slipped up, if she ever showed even a hint of rebellion, Victor would kill her mother and frame Izel for every single murder he committed. And I knew it was the truth when Victor spared my life. He wanted me to turn against Izel. He was banking on the fact that I’d hold it against her for kidnapping me, that I’d help frame her. But that’s not what happened. He even went so far as to threaten a girl, forcing her to give the FBI a false description of my attacker—describing Izel to a T.”

“Why didn’t she say anything?” I demand, unable to grasp why Izel kept this from us, from me. “We could’ve helped her.”

Luna shakes her head. “She was denied help once, by law enforcement. They didn’t believe her, didn’t protect her. So, how could she trust anyone else? She thought if she spoke up, it would only make things worse, that you’d think she was lying. She’s been living in constant fear, Rick. She couldn’t risk another betrayal. And there’s no hard evidence that Victor Montclair is the Ghostface Striker. In fact, he’s got files, every shred of evidence, and it all points to Izel, linking her to each kill. He’s turned the entire narrative against her, and it’s airtight.”

This whole time, I thought I was profiling her, figuring out her secrets, when in reality, I didn’t even scratch the surface. All I did was push her further into a corner Victor had trapped her in. And now, everything’s falling apart.

“Where are the reports?” I ask, focusing on the next steps.

“They’re in Hollowbrook. But I took pictures of them in case I needed to call out Izel’s lies.”

She reaches for her phone, but her movement is slow and labored. I help her pick it up, and she fumbles with the screen, unlocking it. She taps a few times and then hands it over to me.

I take the phone and slide through pictures she’s taken. There are documents detailing everything from Izel’s statement to the horrifying details of her abuse. There are notes and annotations, and in one of the statements, there’s a detailed account of Izel being sexually assaulted by Victor. I keep scrolling, my eyes tracing every word, every gut-wrenching detail of what she endured. Her world torn apart, her trust shattered by men who only took from her. Victor may have inflicted the most brutal of wounds, but I’m no better, am I?

I told myself I was different, that my intentions were justified. But the evidence says otherwise. I used her, just like the rest of them, pushing for answers, manipulating her reactions—all in the name of the case. I’m no better than anyone else who’s taken pieces of her for themselves. I took what I needed, dissected her pain for information, convinced myself it was necessary. But all I did was add another line to the list of people who have used her.

“I did something terrible, Luna,” I admit.

Luna’s eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

“I threatened Izel to get your location,” I confess, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I held a knife to her, tried to scare her into talking.”

“You used a knife to threaten her?”

“And... I may have used sex to get answers from her,” I add. “But I stopped the minute I realized I couldn’t go through with it.”

Luna’s disappointment is almost tangible. “So, her father tried to kill her, her grandfather made her life miserable, and her boyfriend used her. The examples of men she has in her life… it’s no wonder she’s so messed up.”

I feel a deep sense of shame and regret. “I’ll make it right, Luna.”

I stand up with a sense of urgency, my body already moving toward the exit. Luna starts to get up and I feel a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.

“You don’t have to,” I say almost as a plea.

“I am not letting her down, Reynolds,” Luna asserts. “Not when everyone else seems so good at it.”

I nod, acknowledging her words, and we walk out of the room together. Colton rushes towards us with concern etched across his face.

“What happened?” he asks, but I don’t answer. Instead, I tell him, “Keep an eye on Wilson. If he asks, tell him I am on medical leave.”

“He won’t believe that. You’ve never taken a medical leave or even a personal day.”

“Then tell him I’m dead.”

Colton’s face pales, his eyes widening like I’ve just told him I saw a dinosaur roaming around. His mouth opens to argue, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand, already turning away. “Adjacent,” I mutter over my shoulder, not in the mood to explain any further.

I lead Luna out of the building, and we settle into my car.

I pull out my phone and dial Emily. She picks up after a couple of rings.

“Any movement on Martin’s location?”

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