Chapter 9: The Driver
The click echoed across the showroom.
Jordan stared at the driver's seat.
The seatbelt had pulled itself across the cream leather and locked.
Vanessa whispered, “No.””
Marcus didn't move.
He looked at the photograph in his hand.
Then at the car.
Then at Vanessa.
“The owner died?””
Vanessa's eyes dropped.
“I shouldn't have said that.””
Jordan turned toward her.
“You said the owner was alive.””
“I said he was the owner.””
“You told me he was out of town.””
“I was told to say that.””
Jordan stared at her.
“By whom?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
Marcus stepped toward her.
“When did he die?””
Vanessa looked at him.
“Three months ago.””
Marcus's expression remained unreadable.
“Then who's been sending the messages?””
Vanessa's lips trembled.
“I don't know.””
Marcus looked at the phone.
“You've been receiving messages from a dead man.””
“I know how it sounds.””
“It sounds impossible.””
Vanessa gave a bitter laugh.
“Exactly.””
Jordan looked toward the cameras.
“Then who's watching us?””
Marcus followed his eyes.
The red indicator above one camera suddenly turned green.
Jordan stepped backward.
“That wasn't green before.””
Marcus stared at it.
“No.””
Vanessa whispered, “He told me never to unplug them.””
“Who?””
“The owner.””
Marcus looked at her.
“After he died?””
Vanessa nodded.
“He said the cameras had to stay on.””
Jordan shook his head.
“This is insane.””
Marcus looked at the black luxury car.
“Who was sitting in the driver's seat?””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“I don't know.””
Marcus's voice sharpened.
“You told me I asked you that before.””
“Yes.””
“So answer me now.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because I never saw the driver's face.””
Marcus looked at the photograph.
In the picture, the driver's seat was visible.
Empty.
But the rearview mirror had been adjusted toward someone sitting behind the camera.
Marcus studied it.
“Where did you take this?””
Vanessa hesitated.
“Here.””
“Who took it?””
“I don't know.””
“You're lying.””
“I swear.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Look at the photograph.””
Vanessa did.
“There's a reflection in the window.””
She leaned closer.
Jordan joined her.
A faint reflection appeared in the glass behind Marcus.
A person.
Only a silhouette.
But the shape was unmistakably someone standing near the driver's side.
Jordan whispered, “Who is that?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I never saw anyone.””
Marcus looked at the reflection.
Something about the figure felt familiar.
Not the face.
The posture.
The way the shoulders were held.
The angle of the head.
He had seen it somewhere.
Marcus's phone vibrated.
He pulled it out.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
*LOOK IN THE MIRROR.*
Marcus looked up.
The rearview mirror inside the car had slowly tilted toward him.
Jordan's face went pale.
“Did that just move?””
Marcus nodded.
Vanessa backed away.
“Don't go near it.””
Marcus opened the driver's door.
The interior light came on.
He sat down.
Vanessa shouted, “Marcus!””
He ignored her.
Jordan stared.
“Why are you getting in?””
Marcus looked at the steering wheel.
His fingers hovered above it.
Then he touched it.
Nothing.
He looked at the dashboard.
A digital screen illuminated.
No ignition.
No music.
No warning.
Only one message:
*WELCOME BACK.*
Marcus froze.
Jordan stepped closer.
“What does it say?””
Marcus didn't answer.
Vanessa whispered, “No.””
Jordan looked at her.
“You've seen this before.””
She nodded.
“When?””
“The last time Marcus came here.””
Marcus turned.
“You saw this screen before?””
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
“You sat exactly where you are sitting now.””
Marcus looked at the steering wheel.
“What did I do?””
Vanessa stared at him.
“You started crying.””
The words landed harder than a shout.
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“I don't cry.””
“You did.””
“When?””
“Three months ago.””
Jordan looked at Marcus.
“Why?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“You kept saying you couldn't remember.””
Marcus stared at the dashboard.
A small icon appeared.
A microphone.
Then a red recording symbol.
The old key fob in Marcus's pocket suddenly vibrated.
He pulled it out.
The light was flashing rapidly.
Jordan stepped backward.
“What does that mean?””
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
“You know.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
The car speakers crackled.
Static filled the showroom.
Everyone froze.
Then a voice came through.
A man's voice.
Deep.
Calm.
Faintly distorted.
“Marcus.””
Marcus stared at the dashboard.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Jordan whispered, “That's the owner.””
The voice continued.
“If you're hearing this…”
Static.
A pause.
“…then you came back.””
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
The recording crackled again.
“You're going to ask Vanessa why she lied.””
Vanessa started shaking her head.
“No.””
Marcus looked at her.
The voice continued.
“And she's going to tell you she had no choice.””
Vanessa whispered, “Please.””
Marcus didn't look away from her.
The voice became clearer.
“But that's not the lie.””
The showroom went completely silent.
Jordan whispered, “Then what's the lie?””
The speakers crackled.
The voice answered.
“Vanessa wasn't the person sitting in the driver's seat.””
Vanessa suddenly screamed.
“No!””
Marcus turned toward her.
The recording continued.
“The person driving that night…”
Static swallowed the next words.
Marcus leaned closer to the dashboard.
“What?””
The voice returned for one final sentence.
“…was standing behind you.””
Marcus slowly turned.
Jordan's face went white.
Vanessa stared past Marcus.
Her eyes fixed on something behind him.
Marcus followed her gaze.
There was nobody there.
Only the showroom mirror.
And in its reflection, a Black American man stood directly behind Marcus.
Wearing the same dark work shirt.
The same faded jeans.
The same worn boots.
Marcus slowly looked down at himself.
Then back at the mirror.
May you like
The reflection smiled.
Marcus did not.
