One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

girls found on the beach. He had been watching it for hours. It was all taped footage from different channels that he had prerecorded. Every few moments, he would pause it, scribble something down on a pad of paper, and then fast-forward.

It was as if she wasn’t even in the room, and the unknown of what he was doing and what was to come next only heightened Sofia’s fear. She felt as if she had been lying there for a lifetime, even though it had only been a matter of hours, but how long exactly she did not know. All she knew was that she had awoken in the basement alone, untied, until he heard her and came downstairs. She had tried to make a run for it, but he had stopped her. He was too strong for her to overpower, and he quickly tied her up, duct-taped her mouth, and took a photo of her. Ever since then, he had been sitting at his desk.

Sofia’s heart still pounded. Her parents were probably worried about her by now. She hoped that someone would find her, that the cops were already searching for her. But as she looked up at the news he was watching, as she saw each dead girl’s face pop up on the screen, a wave of hopelessness crashed into her, and she sobbed. She wanted her mom’s home-cooked meal. She wanted her warm bed. She wanted to hear her parents say goodnight. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

A warm liquid trickled down her pant leg, and she looked down to see her urine leak out onto the floor. Her eyes welled; her body shook with sheer fear. Her body hadn’t even given her warning, and it only signified the reality of her situation. Even her body knew how terrified she was.

Sofia broke out into sobs. She wanted to plead with him to let her go, but her mouth was duct-taped, and all that sounded was a muffled cry. She thought of her school, of her future, how she wanted to be teacher, how she was soon supposed to be applying to colleges. Terror flooded her body at the thought that those things would never happen. She had no way out, nowhere to go. She was completely at his mercy. Her cries grew louder.

Eventually he could no longer ignore her, and he finally stood.

At his movement, Sofia quieted, but he had yet to speak a word. Is he going to let me go? she wondered as he moved closer, as he bent down next to her, as he stared at the puddle of urine on the floor.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered as he looked from the floor to her face.

His words were almost reassuring, and for a moment, Sofia wondered if he was going to listen.

But then he raised a string in his hands—the same string he tied her hands with—and terror flooded once again through her body. “It’s your time,” he added. “It’s almost over. And I know exactly where I’m going to put you.”

 He sat atop her legs so she couldn’t move. He placed the string around her neck as she tried to plead with him once more. But then she felt the pressure as he pulled, and the words couldn’t leave her throat. She thrashed about, but it was no use—his weight was too heavy for her petite body—and eventually her movement slowed as she gasped for air she couldn’t find, and the room darkened around her.

Chapter Fifteen

Tara sat in the kitchen of her apartment, staring at her laptop. She had slept very little after her dream and had eventually given up and gotten out of bed. She could now feel the lack of sleep, and she yawned. It was six thirty in the morning. She had been up for an hour, her mind racing.

She had looked up the prison’s phone number and was now staring at it, her eyes moving from the number to the time at the bottom of the screen. It was too early to call just yet. She waited another fifteen minutes, and then she dialed. She just hoped her father would speak to her and that the prison would allow it.

Moments later, an operator was on the other end. Tara mentioned her father’s name and that she was returning a call. The operator was quiet a moment. Tara could hear the clank of fingers on a keyboard.

“He’s allowed limited incoming calls,” the woman said. “Are you on his call list?”

“I’m not sure,” Tara admitted.

“Your name?”

“Tara Mills.”

The woman put her on hold without even a word, but Tara knew she was looking up the call list of her father. A few moments later, she was back on the phone. “Sorry, you’re not on his list,” the woman said unsympathetically.

Tara sighed. “Is there any other way I can speak to him?”

“You can try coming in, but I can’t put you through by phone.”

“But…” Tara was going to ask one more time, but the phone suddenly went dead. The operator had hung up on her.

Tara slunk in her chair, defeated. There was no way she would be able to travel to New York in the midst of this case. At that thought, John walked into the kitchen. He yawned as he made his way to the coffee machine.

“Were you able to talk to him?” he asked, knowing very well why she was already up.

Tara sighed. “I’m not on his call list. The only way I can possibly talk to him is by going there, but I have a feeling he’ll refuse to see me.”

John sat down next to her. “So what’s your next move?”

Tara already knew. The dream the night before had stirred the thought. “I want to get hold of the visitation records,” she admitted. If he was covering for someone, it was likely they had visited him at one point or another. That might even be the reason why Tara’s father pushed her away. He might not