The Echo
Wes was almost at the cruiser before he remembered where he was.
Theresa’s face had consumed everything else. The grief. The anger. The betrayal. For a few terrible moments he’d forgotten this wasn’t happening now. Forgotten the harness holding him upright. Forgotten Voss. Forgotten the simulation.
He wasn’t here to relive the worst day of his life. He was here to repair it.
The officer opened the rear door of the cruiser while the second rested a firm hand between Wes’s shoulder blades.
“Head down.”
The push was gentle, but confident enough that resisting never crossed his mind.
Wes stepped forward.
Rain hammered against the kitchen window.
He stood motionless, letting the sound settle over him. The house was dim except for the light above the stove, which cast a warm amber glow across the countertops. Everything else faded into soft shadow.
He looked at the clock. 10:22 PM.
The calendar on the wall. June 16.
The day Marty had handed him the envelope. Wes slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in.
“I’m home...”
His first instinct was to run. The garage. The truck. The envelope.
Drive back to the office. Put the money where it belonged. None of this ever had to happen.
His body had already started toward the garage before he stopped himself. Of course. Coherence. The money had already been stolen. Whatever happened here still had to lead to the arrest. He couldn’t rewrite history. But maybe...
Maybe he could stop Theresa from finding out the way she had. He closed his eyes. He could still see her standing in the driveway. Police lights flashing across her face. Confused. Terrified. Looking to him for an explanation he never gave. He thought about the kitchen simulation from only a few sessions ago. About telling her the truth. About how pain shared had somehow felt lighter than pain hidden.
The theft wasn’t the moment that broke them. The silence was.
Wes took a slow breath and started toward the hallway. Halfway there, he stopped.
There was another doorway.
White trim. Beige paint. Matching baseboards. Perfectly ordinary. It looked exactly like every other doorway in the house.
Except the hallway ended in a wall.
He stared at it. A strange coldness crept into his chest. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with his hands.
The doorway was gone. Just drywall.
“...Jesus.” He rubbed at his eyes again. “Focus.”
He kept walking. As he reached the stairs, a single creak echoed from upstairs. Not the settling of old wood. A footstep. Just one. He waited. Nothing.
The house fell silent again. His pulse quickened.
By the time he reached the bedroom door, his shirt clung damply to his back. His hands trembled. His chest felt impossibly tight, as though something inside him was pushing outward against his ribs.
Steady. Just tell her. He opened the door. Theresa was sitting up in bed beneath the soft glow of the nightstand lamp, reading. He smiled despite himself. The Nicomachean Ethics. What a nerd, he thought to himself.
She hadn’t noticed him yet. For a brief second, everything felt ordinary again. Safe.
“Hey... Reese.”
She finished the sentence she was reading before slipping a bookmark between the pages. Closing the book, she smiled.
“Hey. You’re home.”
Before Wes could answer, the baby monitor crackled. Not static. Something softer. Almost... A child’s laugh. Or maybe a cry. The sound stopped. Wes waited. Silence. He still couldn't decide whether he'd heard laughter or crying. He frowned and picked up the monitor. Nothing. Nora slept peacefully.
“Hear that?” he asked.
Theresa looked puzzled.
“Hear what?”
He stared at the screen another second before setting it back down.
“Never mind.”
He sat on the edge of the bed.
“There... there’s something I need to tell you.”
Theresa glanced at the clock before looking back. She must have seen something in his face. Her smile disappeared.
“Okay.” A long silence settled between them. “What is it?”
Wes looked down at his hands. He’d rehearsed this conversation a hundred times in his head. Now that it was here... Nothing sounded right.
“Reese...” He swallowed. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“It’s about money.” He paused. “No...” He shook his head. “It’s about me.” The words caught in his throat. “I’m in trouble.” He looked up. “We’re in trouble.”
The color drained from Theresa’s face.
“Oh my God...”
He leaned toward her, reaching for her arm.
“Reese... hey... just let me explain—”
He stopped. She wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her eyes had drifted over his shoulder. Toward the darkest corner of the room.
She wasn’t frightened. She looked... Confused. Then... Recognition. Like someone had quietly stepped into the room. Her lips parted. Barely above a whisper. “...No.”
Ice flooded through Wes’s veins. Every muscle locked. Theresa never blinked. Slowly... Very slowly... He began turning toward whatever she was seeing.
Before he could finish, the room fractured.
The bedroom pixelated in violent bursts. Walls snapped in and out of focus. Colors smeared into blocks of light. A low electrical buzz filled the air like an untuned radio station, growing louder until it swallowed everything.
The floor vanished.
Darkness.
Wes jerked against the harness, gasping for breath. Sweat streamed down his face. Warning lights flashed across the chamber. Alarms screamed. He blinked until the room came into focus.
Voss wasn’t looking at him. His fingers flew across the controls. His tie hung loose around his neck. Hair disheveled. Eyes fixed on the monitors with an intensity Wes had never seen before.
The alarms stopped. The lights continued flashing.
“Doc...” No response. “What the hell just happened?”
His eyes never left the screen. Finally, he spoke.
“So that’s why...”
“What?”
Voss looked up.
For the first time since they’d met, there wasn’t confidence in his expression. Only uncertainty.
“...Impossible.”
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