The realization shattered him, but the photos continued to develop, revealing a sequence of events that grew darker with every frame. They weren’t being kidnapped; they were being led somewhere by someone they trusted implicitly. The car wasn’t a prison; it was a getaway vehicle that had clearly missed its turn.
Suddenly, a heavy knock echoed through the metal walls of the shed, making Elias jump so hard he knocked over a tray. “Elias? I saw your truck. You find that old wreck in the creek today?” a voice called out. It was Sheriff Miller, the father of Julianne, the girl whose bag Elias now held. Elias froze, his hands dripping with developer fluid, staring at the photos of his brother and the Sheriff’s daughter. If he showed the Sheriff, he would be implicating his own blood in a crime that destroyed the town. But if he stayed silent, the girls would stay buried in the mud forever.
“I’m busy, Sheriff! Just cleaning up some parts!” Elias yelled back, his voice cracking with the strain of the lie. He heard the Sheriff’s heavy boots linger by the door for a moment before the sound of gravel crunching signaled his departure. He had to finish the last roll of film now.
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