Chapter 3: A Growing Darkness

Ethan’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of Mark’s words, the anger simmering in his voice, the glint in his eyes. Something about the whole thing felt off, like a puzzle with missing pieces. He knew Mark well, knew the depths of his loyalty and his fierce sense of justice. But something about this whole “evidence” felt…different, as if it was fueled by something more than just grief.

"Mark, I understand you're hurting, but we need to be careful," Ethan said, his voice laced with concern. “We can’t go around accusing people based on feelings. We need proof. We need facts.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “I told you, I saw him. I’m not wrong. I know who did it.”

Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story, that something wasn't adding up. Mark’s normally sharp mind seemed clouded, his judgment clouded by grief and anger.

“Mark, tell me what you saw,” Ethan said, his voice softening. “Tell me everything, and we’ll figure it out together.”

Mark hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth as if grappling with something inside him. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “I was walking home from school, late one afternoon. It was just after the accident. I saw a red truck parked near the alley where my dad’s accident happened. The driver was getting out, looking around nervously, like he was checking if anyone had seen him. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him at first. He looked kinda like…like the guy who works at the gas station downtown, but I wasn’t sure. He got back in his truck and drove off, and I just... I just knew it was him.”

Ethan tried to piece together the story, but there were too many gaps, too many uncertainties. “Mark, that’s not much to go on,” he said, his voice laced with caution. “Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was a different truck, a different guy.”

“No, Ethan, I’m telling you, it was him,” Mark insisted, his voice growing more agitated. “I’m not crazy, I’m not making this up. I know it was him.”

Ethan wanted to believe his friend, to offer him comfort and support. But he also felt a growing sense of unease. The more Mark insisted, the more Ethan felt like he was losing him, like he was slipping through his fingers. He had never been more scared for his friend. He knew Mark had always been a little impulsive, a little hotheaded, but this was different. This was dangerous.

"Mark, we need to talk to the police. We need to tell them what you saw."

Mark’s eyes narrowed. “No, Ethan. We’re not telling them anything. We’re doing this ourselves. We're going to find him, and we’re going to make him pay."

The words hung heavy in the air, a chilling echo of the anger and rage that had taken root within Mark. Ethan felt a wave of despair wash over him. He knew he couldn’t let Mark go down this path, but he also knew that he couldn’t force him to listen. He was stuck in a labyrinth of doubt and fear, trapped in a nightmare of his own making.

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