As soon as the realization that the coat was hers hit, she was fumbling toward it with abandon.


     “Oh, thank you, thank you, God!” She sounded almost blissful as she slid her pretty pink, puffy coat on.


      She immediately felt warmer and for just a brief moment, a little bit of happiness.


      The happiness was fleeting though when she recalled again that she had somehow murdered her boyfriend Tim.


      “But Tim was so awful! He had it coming!” She tried convincing herself as she knelt to examine the shovel.


      “Oh my God, was I…using this? To dig…a grave?” Fear flushed throughout her body, sending more shivers in spite of the fact that she had warmed up somewhat.


      She quickly looked around for more clues.


      Then, in the distance just straight ahead, she saw it.


      There was a significant and ominous mound of fresh-looking dirt.


      Leslie gathered herself together and stood slowly, using the shovel to help her stand. She was feeling quite wobbly.


      Walking carefully through the bushes and toward the mound, another memory flashed.


      Paramedics. A stretcher. The ambulance.


      A hospital.

 

      “That’s right! I was in the hospital after the accident!” She full-on spoke to herself as if trying to manufacture some kind of reassurance.


      She paused at the near end of the big mound as more memories bloomed.


      That had been a few months back as well. What was it? Maybe two months or so? Yes, it was just a few days after that fight with Tim.


      Or, rather, after Tim had gotten violent with her.


      She had been fine after the accident for the most part. Mild concussion. A few bumps and bruises. Nothing life-threatening.


      But what else? Who else? Wasn’t Tim, unconscious in the backseat? She couldn’t recall hearing about anyone else, alive or…not.


      But more than that, why was she here? How did she get here? And was Tim buried here?


      There was only one way to find out.