Sitting at my desk, I stare at the picture of the girl. She was dead. At least, she should have been. But here, in the photo in my hand, she was smiling, alive, happy. Both of us unaware of each other, I standing away from her, taking pictures of the trails and trees. This picture had been taken on my trail camera before I went to collect the data.

They had told me she was dead and had shown what I thought had been proof. They were lying, it seems. I slam the photo onto my desk, standing so suddenly my chair hits the wall across the room. Damn it! The photo was taken five minutes before I got there. Five minutes!

Pacing, I pick up my phone and call them.

"Hello?" The voice on the other side says, bored.

"You said you had taken care of it," I snap.

"What are you talking about?"

"The girl. You told me the girl was dead, that you killed her. It seems you lied."

Silence met the accusation.

"Tell me the truth, Grim," I said. "All of it, no lies this time."

Grim sighs. Not the guilty kind, but the exhausted kind. Like someone who's already played this game to many times to give a shit.

"I did what you asked," he says finally. "I watched her go still. I checked her pulse. Hell, I buried her myself."

I stop pacing and stare out the window, taking up an entire wall. "Then explain the photo," I bite out.

"I can't."

"Try," I grab the picture off the desk again. She's beaming, hair and clothes clean and shining. "She's not a twin, Grim. I checked. This is her. Same scar on her face, same necklace, same damn shirt I found in the evidence locker."

"I buried her," Grim says again. "I put her in the ground. There was no heartbeat. No movement."

"Then why is she alive?"

Another pause on the end of the phone.

"Where did you take the photo?" Grim asks. I sigh and look at it again, suddenly unsure. I rub between my brows with my free hand and plop back into my desk chair.

"I don't know. The memory card was in my trail cam, but I haven't been near those woods in months."

"Send me the coordinates. Don't go back there alone."

I sit up straighter and drop my hand from my face. I scoff. "You think I'm afraid of her?"

"I think," Grim says, low and slow, "you should be."