Uncovering You 7: Resurrection Read Online Free PDF Page B

watch, scanning the people milling around me on the screen for sign of Hugh. The elevator doors open. Some people get in; some get out.
    I remember the moment. I almost stepped onto the elevator before realizing it was going up, not down. It wasn’t long after that I felt that hand touch my arm.
    I go up on my toes, anticipation building. “There!” I say, spotting a man moving through the crowd toward me. “There! That’s him.”
    Sure enough, the man reaches me and touches my arm. His back is to the camera, so we can’t see his face.
    Jeremy looks over his shoulder at me. His forehead is marred by a deep frown line.
    “Lilly,” he says slowly. “That’s Simon, my driver.”
    “What? No it’s—” I cut off. The Lilly on the screen starts to follow the man. Together, they turn toward the camera. I see his face.
    Jeremy is right. It is Simon. It is his driver.
    But that’s not who I was speaking to!
    The surveillance room spins. I feel dizzy. Short of breath. Like I’ve been submerged in a pool of thick, murky liquid, and am looking out at the world from behind an aquarium lens.
    Jeremy taps a few keys. The video display changes to track my progress with Simon down the hall.
    We walk into a room. Not the one I remember entering.
    Jeremy pauses the tape and looks at me. “This is what had you upset?” he asks. There’s an undertone of grave disappointment in his voice.
    I try to steady my nerves, but they’re beyond frazzled. “I…I don’t know what to say,” I blubber.
    “ I sent Simon to get you, Lilly. He was supposed to relay a message to you that I would be delayed tonight. That I wouldn’t make the trip home.” Jeremy’s eyes narrow oh-so-slightly. “Let’s see what happens next.”
    The camera showing the inside of the room lights up the screen. There’s Simon, sitting behind a desk…A small one, not nearly so grand as I remember. And there—my stomach gives an uneasy lurch—am I, sitting across from him, both our faces clear as day in the recording.
    I watch in silence, dumbfounded. It feels like I’m losing my grip on reality. In my mind’s eye, I have no recollection of what is transpiring on-screen. I remember Hugh —what he said, what he told me, his office, his face—not Simon.
    Then why the hell is the video showing something else entirely?
    There’s no audio, but Simon and I are conversing. It’s a conversation that does not exist in my head. He slides something across the table to me. My eyes latch onto the object—and some small degree of faith in my own sanity is restored.
    The thing he slides across the table—the thing that I pick up—is a rectangular manila envelope.
    The one with all the photographs inside.
    “There,” I exclaim. “There, you see that? That envelope held the photographs I was telling you about. The ones of us on the beach, on the island!”
    “Yes, that’s right,” Jeremy says. Letting the tape pause, he reaches into his jacket and takes out the exact same rectangular, manila envelope. “Photographs that I had made as a souvenir for you.”
    He extends it to me. I take it from him in a daze. My fingers brush the outside paper lining, but they feel like someone else’s fingers. Someone else’s hands.
    “I asked Simon,” Jeremy says patiently, “to give those to you so you could choose your favorites. I was intending on having them blown up and framed.”
    I take the photographs out. I flip through them, searching for the lewd night vision ones.
    There are none.
    Jeremy glances at the screen. It shows me, collected, composed, shaking hands with Simon and exiting the room.
    He switches cameras. This one shows me walking calmly toward the elevators, envelope tucked under one arm. I hit the call button and get in. The doors close, hiding me from view. And the camera of the hallway continues to play.
    Jeremy turns to me. I stare.
    “Is that all, Lilly?” he asks.
    I…I don’t know what to say. Have I completely lost it? Have I cracked,