She Won't Tell
Her heart hammered, lungs burning. He was gaining. She should have run sooner. A sob caught in her throat as she tripped and fell. Scrambling up, she ran again, toward the beach. He was close now. He called her name, softly. She screamed. No one was there. He put on a mask. “I won’t tell,” she sobbed. “No,” he said, “you won’t tell.” She closed her eyes and prayed. Two months later, Alison attends an audition for a reality show, searching for her missing sister, Gwen.
The sand dragged at your feet, the sound of waves a cruel mockery of your desperate flight. He was right behind you. You scrambled, fell, then crawled, screaming for help, but the beach was deserted. When he pulled on the latex mask, dread seized you. You’d seen his face.
Months later, you sit in a sterile conference room, one of forty hopefuls. This is it – your last chance. The "ruggedly handsome" director, Brogan, surveys the room. He’s here for "Reality Island" auditions, the same show your sister, Gwen, vanished on. You shift in your chair, praying he doesn’t see through your disguise. You’re not Alison, fitness instructor seeking fame and fortune. You’re Alison, searching for the truth.
