What She Built

Murder Girls is created, written and produced by Eternal Teenager. Content warning, this episode contains discussions of murder, references to past trauma, and themes involving surveillance, secrecy, and institutional power. It includes references to medical emergencies, prescription medication, and grief, as well as brief sexual references and profanity throughout. Listener discretion is advised.

Previously on Murder Girls. I'm back in my hometown after over a decade because my recently departed aunt Deedee left me her curiosity shop. I was a sleuth, part of a team, and we solved our first case and Amy was my sleuthing partner, my best friend. I haven't spoken to her since I left here.

Should probably introduce myself. Amy, Amy O'Connell. If the main floor is this weird, imagine what Deedee kept in the basement.

Whoa, what is all this? These feeds? They're from all over AF.

We investigate, like we used to.

I haven't decided anything.

You don't have to decide tonight.

If I did sell, I assumed we would just take the money and do something together.

Really? Like what?

I don't know. Details aren't as important when there's money to sort them out.

But what do you want to do for real?

I don't know. I really don't. There hasn't been time to think. Med school didn't work. Loose ends was an asset. I told myself coming back here was research. Like I was evaluating whether this place still fit.

But?

But when I got off that bus, I knew it didn't.

Didn't fit?

Didn't stick. I wanted to sell. Take the money. Go find the thing that would lead to the thing.

Okay. So what happened?

You, Amethyst Emily O'Connell. You fucking happened. Oh, hey, this should be it. Basement safe records. In a box.

Wow.

She really did prepare for her own death like it was a dinner party.

She liked contingencies. Whoa, what's this? It's an envelope.

Is it labeled, do not open until dramatically appropriate?

Opening it.

That's a USB. What does it say?

Mags and Amy.

She planned that.

Okay, let's see. One file, no name, video created just over a month before she died.

Oh, hi.

Oh shit.

If you're watching this, then a few things have happened. One, I was right about you. Two, you found what I hoped you'd find. And three, you're ready. Oh, and number four. I, I died. At this point, some time has passed, and well, I'm sure you have some questions, right? That's what you little shits were always good at. So, I'm not going to start with why. I'm not going to explain that at all. You already know why. You've seen enough by now to know why. No, I think first, first I need to explain what it is I built.

Murder Girls, episode 23, What She Built.

So, I practiced this part, and it sounded much more organized in my head. But hey, you're watching this together. That's, well, that's something. I always figured you'd end up in the same room eventually. I just hoped I'd get to see it.

She's so smug about it too.

She earned it.

Sorry. Okay. The basement. My little system. It's not magic. It's just feeds. You must have realized that by now. Traffic cams, storefront security, county feeds. A few blind spots I filled in where it seemed prudent. I centralized it, indexed it, saved what looked important, logged what felt off.

Logged. Based on the filing cabinets, it's a little more than logged.

It's not about catching someone in one big dramatic moment. That's television. This is just accumulation. Sometimes patterns only look like patterns when you can rewind.

Our first week using it and we get a murder.

That's so us-coded.

There's no need to get into why this started or who it's aimed at. You already know. But it is all based on a truth people get wrong. Everyone thinks the originals are strong because they own the land. They're strong because they own the timeline. They don't hide because they don't have to. They stopped bothering. That's not arrogance. That's permanence. When people believe they're permanent, they get sloppy. For a long time, the system was just insurance. Lately, it hasn't felt that way. Lately, it's felt like much more than that.

Dylan or Omnia.

It's Avalon Falls. Why not both?

Never truer.

Big projects make noise. Paperwork leaves footprints. Airs get restless. When you watch long enough, you can tell when the rhythm changes. Well, the rhythm's definitely been changing.

She saw it.

Oh.

Sorry again. Okay. Okay. Before we continue, I just wanted to make something really clear if it isn't already. This is not your job. You don't owe this thing anything. You don't owe me anything. I don't want this to feel like something you got in the will. And if you walk away from it, that is a complete sentence.

Hey, we could probably turn those servers into a dating app or something like that. You know, like Hinge for trauma-adjacent professionals.

Cringe.

Shut up.

You love it.

Press play.

God, I would have liked to sit at the table with both of you and argue about this in person. You'd both interrupt me.

Not wrong.

This will have to do. I built this because I got tired of things happening and then being told they didn't. This is not about taking anyone down. That's not what this is. I just didn't want to forget. For years, it was just a hobby, a habit, a record, a private archive. Things change. Your focus changes. Your priorities re-arrange. I thought the work was important. I thought I could make a difference, you know, like... like somewhere down the line. Oh, man. I thought I'd have longer. But I think... I think you both... Yeah. You're right on time. Whoa, Amy O'Connell in the flesh.

In a mask.

That still counts as flesh.

It's been a minute.

Yeah, a global catastrophe will do that.

So, I feel like I should apologize for not, you know, storming the shop during the apocalypse.

Come on now, you did Zoom.

That doesn't count.

It counted. You showed me what you did to your kitchen.

It's a nook, and I regret that.

It was aspirational.

I added two forks and a mug from that thrift store in Bearview. You know, thrift me, baby, one more time.

Minimalist.

Impulse spy.

You look taller.

I'm not.

Emotionally, then. Or maybe it's the full Phoebe Bridgers minus the skeleton costume thing you've got going on these days.

That feels like a trap.

It's an observation. I missed you. I missed this.

Me too. Obviously. I know it seems really glamorous, but Sunset Shores can be claustrophobic when you're stuck there for months.

I can see that. How's Kathy?

Good. Yeah. Happy to be out and about again.

And is she...

Going to Burning Man as soon as they announce it's back on? Yes.

You know what? I love that.

It's a whole fucking mood.

I'll give it that. You want something to drink? I bought a bunch of booze from the Otter when they were doing that whole bottle shop and provisions thing.

Jake has his moments.

I think that was Kenzie's idea, but yeah. Jake is... Jake.

Town's best swearer.

You know, I heard he...

You know what? Never mind. Never mind.

No, go. I want to hear this now. You have to tell me.

No.

I've said too much already.

I can't.

Dee Dee!

Fine. Okay. Well, I... I heard that he and Amber Holt are like, you know...

Fucking?

Well, I mean, I would have said something a little less inelegant, but yeah, they're fucking.

They are for sure, or that's gossip? Also, why did you whisper it? Who's going to hear? That fucking haunted fucking ventriloquist dummy? It's not still here, is it? Dee Dee, tell me it's not still here.

Uh, I just, you know, heard that they're involved, yeah. And I'm whispering out of habit. This town is just that kind of place, right?

Sure.

So, babe, what have you been doing with yourself?

Well, just maintaining that town's walking cautionary tale thing I do. Oh, so well.

Come on, you know I'm not going to participate in that self-pity bullshit.

Huh, fine. Mostly I've been walking dogs.

Doggies? That's so cool.

Yeah, even when they had all the time at home and were told to go outside, people still didn't walk their fucking dogs. So I do that for money. It's pretty great, actually. Fresh air, exercise, and a bunch of dogs being lovable dum-dums. No complaints.

Hey, yeah, I can see you as a dog walker.

Also, I learned how to fix a car, a stove, plumbing, electrical, a computer, plus how to pick a lock and, oh, how to make a pretty rad vodka sauce.

Nice. YouTube?

Claro. Yeah.

Also learned some Spanish on there. Duolingo just did not do it for me. Also, and of course, I played a lot of Overwatch.

Let me guess. Your main is Kiriko?

You're totally correct, but how do you even know Overwatch characters?

Well, Amy, I guess you could say I'm curious.

Barf. Anyway, dog walking or not, I'm thinking maybe I pivot.

From what?

From whatever this is. I just don't think I'm built for a linear life.

Very few people are. They just pretend better. You want to leave town? Go back to school? Both?

I don't know. Go back to school for what?

For anything. Just not coding. That is a total scam. Mark my words. But, I mean, you could get a private investigator's license. You would be coming off the street having actually solved a murder slash drug ring case.

Me? A PI? Yeah.

You? Why not you?

I don't know. I could do something remote. Digital. Something with vibes.

Vibes pay well in this economy.

You mock, but I'm serious.

I'm not mocking. I'm bracing. For what? For the next reinvention.

You love my reinventions.

I love that you survive them.

You rearranged in here.

It's got to rotate the chaos. Keeps it fresh.

The singing fish wall is still here.

The wall thrives.

I hate that it thrives. Oh, hey, come on, man. Unbelievable.

You walk directly into their field of vision. What else are they supposed to do?

Die, hopefully.

You eating?

Yes.

Not just hot dogs?

Yes, not just hot dogs.

You sleeping?

Define sleeping.

Amy?

Yes, sleeping.

Meds? Amy?

Yes, mostly.

Mostly is not a unit of measurement.

I'm fine.

You're feral.

Yeah, and that's my brand now. Fine and feral.

By Amy. It's not sustainable.

You miss me?

Obviously. I'm glad you came, kiddo.

Me too. So, you texted, we need to talk.

I did.

That's never casual.

No, it's not. I, I have cancer.

Wait, uh. What?

It's bad.

I, I don't.

It's stage four.

I, I don't know what that means.

It metastasized.

Dee Dee, I still don't know.

It's in my spine.

So, it's spinal cancer?

No, that's not how it works.

Okay. So, what's the plan?

Drugs. Until they stop working. Then different drugs. You try to live long enough for them to invent a drug that doesn't stop working.

How long?

Maybe five or six years, if I'm stubborn.

Well, you are definitely stubborn.

It's not new. I've been managing it for years. Surgery. Then surgery. Then more surgery. My body is really fucking great at making breast cancer.

You didn't tell me that. You didn't tell me any of this.

I didn't.

You didn't tell anyone?

No. Why?

Because information changes how people treat you, and I didn't want to be handled. Now it's in my spine. Still breast cancer. It just relocated.

Jesus.

I'm technically shorter.

Stop. It's true.

One of the discs compressed. It's measurable.

Stop making it funny.

I'm not making it funny. I'm making it survivable.

Does your family know?

No one knows. Except you.

Why me?

Because I needed someone who wouldn't look at me like I was already gone.

That's not fucking fair, Dee Dee.

Life rarely is.

Well, shit.

Hey, I'm not disappearing. I'm redistributing.

Right.

Your father wasn't wrong to ask questions.

Then why did it cost us everything?

It didn't. They're just hoping you think it did.

You can't say that like it fixes anything.

I'm not fixing it. I'm trying to see it clearly. Loss doesn't mean defeat.

Those literally mean the same thing, and it definitely feels like it.

Look, feelings are persuasive. They're not always accurate. You don't get to close your heart because you're afraid it'll be emptied.

That's not what I'm doing.

It is a little. You don't have to forgive anyone. You don't have to fix anything. Just don't put up a wall.

We'll see.

You don't get forever to decide.

I know. Let's go to the Otter this week. Thursday is nachos and two-for-one shots night.

I'm there. Always.

Okay.

See you soon.

Bye, kiddo.

She looks tired.

Yeah, she does. Press play.

Things kept happening in this town, and then afterwards, people would say they didn't, or they'd say they happened differently, or they'd say they happened for a reason. And eventually, the version that survived wasn't the one that was true.

Yeah, that's Avalon Falls core.

The town that town forgot.

It already brings the machine into focus a bit more, doesn't it?

The system, that's what she called it.

The system? Eh, we'll see.

But you're right, if memory is what's driving it all, it makes more sense.

For a long time, I thought the answer was asking better questions. Turns out that's a great way to get people hurt. So I stopped asking. And instead, instead, I started keeping records.

I always got the sense that she took Jonathan's death personally, like she blamed herself somehow.

Yeah, she just, she just always took on a lot, more than she needed.

I, you know, I tried to convince her otherwise. Not sure it ever stuck.

You know what a curiosity shop really is? People think it's about objects, old things, weird things, things nobody else wanted. But it's not really about the objects. It's about the stories attached to them. Someone brings you a box from their attic or a drawer from a relative's house after they're gone, or something they found buried in a field. And suddenly that thing has a story again. Most of the things in this shop are only interesting because someone remembered what they meant.

Okay. Yeah. Sure. But dude, I don't think anyone remembers what that box of buttons meant.

Agreed. I've got nothing for that.

Avalon Falls has a lot of stories people would prefer to forget or rewrite or bury under paperwork. So I started collecting those too. Turns out it's surprisingly easy. Most systems around here assume nobody is paying attention. Traffic cameras, security feeds, parking lots, the docks. Public infrastructure is built on the assumption that curiosity is rare. It isn't.

She says that like she didn't break at least 12 laws.

Minimum.

Low estimate.

Still, pretty cool.

Pretty terrifying.

Sorry, sorry, where was I? Right. When you run a curiosity shop, you learn something quickly. If you don't label things, they disappear. Not physically, conceptually. They become junk. So the system works the same way. Everything gets tagged. Location, people involved, time, and the story that followed. That part is usually the interesting one.

She turned an archive into a weapon.

She built it so people couldn't lie later.

In this county? Yeah, that's smart.

But also, she built it to watch people.

I mean, the system itself is neutral, but she must have steered things when there was a reason to steer them.

Definitely. Think of the camera she placed at that secure store, where Dylan had his safe house.

Right. There's intention there. Observation first, then direction.

Exactly.

She placed one at the lodge.

Right. Why wouldn't you?

Totally. And that's intention again.

My weird, obsessive, tiny, hilarious hot aunt.

People think systems like this survive because they're strong. They don't. They survive because they control the story about what happened. Memory is fragile. Paperwork isn't. Video footage isn't. Timestamped metadata definitely isn't. So I built something that remembers, not to punish anyone, just to prevent forgetting.

She really hated them. Not like angry hate. More like patient hate.

I think that's the hate that everyone in this county has. Underneath, unspoken, unacted on. She made it more strategic and more real.

I get it, honestly.

If you expose something too early, it disappears. Records vanish. Witnesses change their stories. And eventually, the official version becomes the only version. You can't rush it. You have to wait, collect, cross-reference, watch the patterns, and eventually the story stops holding together.

Daniel said the same thing.

Marion too.

They talk about it like it's a bomb, but this... This is something slower.

Slower and heavier.

People think change happens all at once. But of course, it almost never does. Eventually, I realized something else.

Wait, do you think she, like, figured out the whole CIS thing? The Calhouns? All of that?

I don't know. How do you see that from surveillance cameras? Still, she asked ants in Calhoun questions about Calhoun Manor, so who knows? She's definitely got cameras in too many places where powerful people think they're safe.

Small places matter because you can see the seams. The same people sit on the same boards. They sign the same permits. They attend the same fundraisers. The same names appear over and over again in paperwork that's supposed to be unrelated. Eventually, you stop seeing events. You start seeing patterns, a structure, intention over time. Once you start tagging everything, the patterns emerge. The same cars, the same addresses, the same phone numbers, the same people standing quietly behind decisions that affect everyone else. After a while, you realize something unsettling. The system isn't hiding. It's just patient.

It's funny. Anyone in this town could have started something like this. Like, at any time.

That's true. But it kind of makes sense that it was Dee Dee. When you think about everything that happened to her, and what happened to us.

Huh. Yeah, I guess it does.

Jonathan saw pieces of it. He thought asking questions would be enough. Yeah, we all learned the hard way that it wasn't. In the end, in the end, machines don't create truth. They just keep it from disappearing. Even truth we hide from ourselves.

This is big.

Well, yeah.

No. I mean, beyond, you know, secret, illegal, countywide surveillance network built by a tiny middle-aged aunt to fight local corruption. Like, it's big as a concept, as a thing.

Definitely. And I keep going back over all the times I met up with her through the years. And for the life of me, cannot recall ever suspecting she had anything like this on the go. Like, not even a secret someone she was seeing on the side or anything.

Dee Dee's business was curiosity, so maybe part of that is knowing how to redirect it too. Huh.

Good point. Most of the time, it just made her nosy as fuck. Oh my god. So nosy. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Just could not get away in time to catch the right bus.

You're only 10 minutes late.

That's practically early.

Fashionably late, actually. I ordered you something.

Bless you.

Aw, how's my beautiful niece doing? Oh my God, feel like I haven't seen you in forever.

Oh, you know, good overall. How about you?

Yeah, yeah, good, good. So, long day?

Long week, long month, long concept of time.

That sounds medical.

Anatomy lab. We had a quiz this morning and then a lecture that was basically just a man calmly explaining all the ways the human body can stop working.

Isn't that just like med school?

You know what?

You're not wrong.

Remember, you're the one who found this career path appealing.

Seemed like a good idea at the time.

And now?

Now it seems like a idea.

Drink this.

Is this the one with the cinnamon?

You liked it last time.

You have no idea how much caffeine I've had today.

I can imagine.

Oh, wow. Okay. That's good.

You know, I think I've heard something about Seattle and coffee, or maybe I'm remembering that wrong.

Ha, funny. This place is always packed.

Students.

Yeah.

You've lived here, what, six years?

Almost seven now.

Huh.

What?

Nothing. I just remember when you left. You looked very young.

I was 13. So, yeah. I was very young, Dee Dee.

You still are.

Yes.

You look tired though. Your skin looks tired.

Well, that's the esthetic.

Medical chic?

Exactly.

I bought some face masks before I came here. I'll give you a few before I go. So, how's the program? Good.

Intense. Everyone's very smart and very competitive and nobody sleeps.

Sounds healthy.

Oh, extremely.

What do you like about it?

About med school?

Yes.

I mean, helping people, obviously.

Right. Obviously.

And it's structured, you know?

Structured.

Right. Right. There are answers, there are problems, solutions, and of course, if something's wrong, you diagnose it, and then you fix it. So that clarity is like very clear.

That must be comforting.

Oh, it is. It is. Yeah.

Do you still take pictures?

Sometimes.

Sometimes?

When I remember.

What do you mean?

Yeah, I don't know. After a while, it just got weird.

Weird? Weird how?

Like, I'd take a photo and then stare at it for an hour, trying to figure out if I missed something.

That sounds exhausting.

It was.

So you stopped?

I mean, no. We walk around with a camera right in our little pocket computer thing. So, sometimes I take pictures, but...

But?

But I don't do photography.

There's a difference?

Okay. Okay. I see what you're doing.

What I'm doing? What am I doing?

Yes, you're doing that thing you do.

What thing I do?

That Dee Dee thing where you're obviously trying to impart some kind of older anti-wisdom, and instead of just coming out with it, you're leading me through this emotional maze thing.

An emotional maze thing?

That's right. Don't play innocent about it.

You'd rather I just ask you what I want to ask you?

Sometimes. Yeah.

All right. Why did you decide to become a doctor when you originally wanted to be a photographer?

When you say it like that, it sounds like a strange pivot.

Isn't it?

Listen, I guess I just wanted to do something real, not abstract, something where mortality wasn't subtext.

That's a very thoughtful reason.

You say that like there's a but coming.

No but. Running from something can still take you somewhere useful.

Okay.

Just make sure that's not the only reason you're going.

You think I'm running.

I think you're reacting or you reacted. Time doesn't automatically turn things into choices. It's not too late to correct things.

So what should I do? Quit med school? Yeah. Let me call dad and you two can talk about that one. I didn't say you should quit.

And why is your dad suddenly part of this conversation?

I've watched enough TV to know that parents tend to have strong opinions when you drop out of med school.

Parents tend to have strong opinions when it comes to their kids no matter what. That's no revelation.

I am perfectly fine in medical school.

As long as you're perfectly fine.

I'm not entering the maze this time.

Okay, okay. You know what I like about places like this?

Wild guess, but the coffee?

Nope. The people.

Oh, uh, yeah?

Like that couple over there.

Which couple?

Tragic overalls man, pale sweetheart woman, aka the couple trying to hide that they're arguing.

Ah, okay.

Right. Yeah.

Wow.

They are totally arguing, huh?

See the way she keeps touching the cup?

Yeah. She keeps like, keeps tapping it.

That's a warning. But judging by his wild hand gestures, one he has probably never heard.

You're terrifying.

People are patterns.

You say that like a scientist.

I'm just a shopkeeper.

Same thing.

If you watch long enough, people tell you exactly who they are.

Ominous.

It's actually comforting.

Why?

Because the truth is rarely hidden. It's just patient.

You've been thinking about this a lot.

Yeah, maybe.

You okay? You look tired.

Uh, oh, yeah. Just been working late these days. The boss is a real taskmaster.

Yeah, that's what I've heard.

So, I feel I would be remiss as your favorite cool aunt if I didn't ask if you were seeing anyone.

Ugh, come on, Dee Dee.

What? I'm genuinely curious. Well, you know, up to a point. After that point, it's just gross no matter who you are. No offense, babes.

Some offense.

Uh, I don't know.

Oh.

Oh, wait. Is there actually someone?

Maggie Mae, are you telling me you're sitting across from me right now and you're involved with someone?

Uh, I don't know.

It's been like a few weeks, so I mean, it's not probably serious or like not anything yet.

Well, still, you're pausing. You're entertaining my questions. You're definitely blushing. Sounds, dare I say, serious-ish?

Adjacent. Serious adjacent.

Okay. Okay. Yeah. So who is this person who's captured the heart and interest of my beautiful, wonderful niece?

So his name is Greg.

His name is Greg.

Yes. His name is Greg.

Huh.

Okay. Not loving the name. That's bad. Bad start.

It's a perfectly normal North American name, Dee Dee.

Sure.

Sure.

Fine.

Sorry.

So Greg, tell me about him. What is he passionate about? Besides you, of course.

Well, I mean, funny you should mention passion, because, you know, there is something that he like, oh wow, yeah, something that he for sure is passionate about a whole bunch. You see, because he definitely loves podcasts. Yeah, I guess.

Oh, oh, okay, right. Oh, so like, he has his own podcast? That's cool. That's kind of cool. That could be cool. What's it about? It's not an audio drama, is it? Because those people just seem off.

Eww, no, no, not an audio drama. Actually, he doesn't have his own podcast. Nope, no. He just really, yeah, just really loves listening to podcasts. After all, there are just like thousands of them. Yeah, just so dang many.

There is, there definitely is. Some would say too many, but you know, there's Greg out there just listening to them all. So who am I? Or, you know, like the entire whole rest of the world to say.

Anyway, yeah. So Greg spends a lot of time listening to them. And so I have to listen to them. I mean, I do too, with him.

Okay. Yep, yep, yep.

Oh, and he has this, you know, this kind of cute saying of his. Yeah, he says, he says, these podcasts are not going to listen to themselves. And so that is, that is something that he says. Yeah.

Okay, well, what else do you crazy kids have in common?

I don't know. I mean, med school, there's that.

Match made in heaven.

Oh, oh, he likes Overwatch and I like Overwatch.

You're making me cry, kid.

Yeah, yeah. He means Lucio and I mean Reinhardt. Now, that is actually a match made in heaven. Like, you know, in Overwatch circles.

I understood approximately six of the words you just said, and I've played Overwatch. All kidding and ribbing aside, you don't talk about people lightly.

What does that mean?

It means when someone actually gets a mention, I pay attention.

You're doing the pattern thing again.

I always do the pattern thing, and you always do the dramatic thing.

I am not dramatic.

You are 100% dramatic. Like, artsy dramatic. Are you still curious, though?

As the owner and purveyor of a curiosity shop, are you obligated to ask everyone that?

See? Artsy and dramatic.

Fine. Yes, I'm still curious.

About people?

Sometimes.

About the world?

Upon occasion.

About the past?

I have done a lot of therapy.

I'm glad.

You're not my therapist.

I know.

Yeah, you're worse. Way worse. Definitely funnier, definitely hotter, but definitely way worse.

Thank you.

Somehow taller too, if you can believe it.

Oh my god. Impossible.

I'm serious.

Dr. Morgan is sub-five feet. And look, I'm okay, Dee Dee, really. You don't have to worry about me.

I'm always going to worry about you, Maggie Mae.

Well, you know what I mean. No more than usual.

That's good. I just like to be in the loop with you, you know? You're entitled to your privacy and secrets. Everyone is. But I love you and care about you, okay? You're special to me. You always have been.

Oh, okay. I'm starting to cry a bit here. My dramatic side is showing.

Should I tell the story about the first time I held you in my arms again?

Oh my God, no, because that story ends with me soiling myself. See?

You were always so relaxed around me.

I'm begging you not to tell that story in public someday.

Already talked with your mom and I have a time slot booked at your wedding. It's part of my Type 5.

Wow, betrayal.

Can't help it, kid.

It's part of the aunt code.

You know, I'm glad you came out here.

Me too.

Even if you're doing the whole mysterious I'm just checking in thing.

What? Can't an auntie check in?

You just like keeping an eye on things.

Someone has to.

There you go being ominous once again.

It's not ominous. It's just curiosity.

Well, the world definitely does need more of that.

It really does.

By the way, you're a weird person.

Oh, I know. Not only listens to podcasts weird, of course, but who's that fucking weird, right? Dee Dee! Now, if I've done this properly, then by this point, you're both probably feeling a little overwhelmed.

A little bit?

Yeah, you know, like just a scooch overwhelmed.

That's fair. I know what this must look like. A basement full of servers, a surveillance system, enough stored footage to make any reasonable person deeply uncomfortable, and then me from beyond the grave popping up to explain why I built the whole thing like some kind of deranged neighborhood spy master.

Not inaccurate.

Nope.

That said, this is not a burden I am handing to you. It's not a quest. It's not a mission. It's not an obligation wrapped in grief and dropped in your laps because I happened to die before cleaning out the basement. This was my work, my choice. It mattered to me. That does not mean it has to matter to you in the same way, or at all. And I mean that. I really do. You do not owe this system your lives. You do not owe this town your lives. And you certainly do not owe me some kind of posthumous loyalty campaign where you carry on my strange and just like fucking questionably legal basement operations in my honor.

That's the version I was kind of hoping for.

Sure, sure. That's great. But it's still okay if we try to use it to win the lottery though, right?

I know. Very romantic. Very dramatic. Very the girls continue the work. No, absolutely not. You are allowed to walk away from this. You are allowed to shut it down, unplug the servers, erase every drive, salt the earth and go live in some bright and ridiculous place where nothing interesting ever happens.

Nope. Hard pass.

Secrets have a way of making people feel responsible. That's part of how they work. You know something heavy and suddenly it feels like your job to carry it. Then a day passes, then a month, then years. And at some point, you stop asking whether the thing belongs to you at all. Most of the time, it doesn't. Most of the time, the hardest part of knowing the truth isn't the truth itself. It's the feeling that if you set it down, even for a second, you failed somehow. You haven't. You're allowed to set things down. You're allowed to tell the truth and then leave it in the room. You're allowed to know something and decide it isn't yours to fix. And I'm speaking from experience there, in case that wasn't obvious. I was never particularly gifted at putting things down.

No shit. I mean, lucky for her, curiosity shops exist and she could like just turn her neuroses into profit or whatever.

You get that she just has all this stuff here because it's for the store, right? Like she didn't just always have a bunch of curios around and suddenly one day figured she could start selling like boxes of buttons and Mexican Marvel superheroes?

Press play.

So let me at least be useful now and say this clearly while I still can. Curiosity is only beautiful when it stays free. The second it becomes a cage, the second it becomes a life sentence, it stops being curiosity and starts being worship. And I refuse to ask that of either of you. Pay attention if you want to. Ask questions if you want to. Stay in Avalon Falls if you want to. Leave Avalon Falls and never think about this town again if that's what freedom looks like to you. Sell the shop, keep the shop, burn the shop down metaphorically, turn it into a bookstore, turn it into a furry bar, whatever.

Okay, now we're talking.

I mean, furries have to be underrepresented in the area.

The point is, whatever comes next has to belong to you. Not to me, not to Jonathan, not to the town, not to anyone. Only to you. And if I have left either of you with anything worth keeping, I hope it isn't the system. I hope it's the reminder that looking is a choice, that caring is a choice, that staying open is a choice, and that none of those choices mean very much if they aren't freely made. Pass the tissues.

Here you go.

Now, there is also the matter of me. Yeah, we've been dancing around that part for a while. And I suppose if you're watching this, then the dance is over. I don't want this to be one of those recordings where the dying person becomes suddenly profound and starts speaking in polished final lines like they know they're in a movie.

Too late.

Deeply too late.

Still, I know what this is. I know what it means that you're seeing this, and I'm not there to argue with you in person. I know what goodbye means in this context. And for what it's worth, I had a good life, a strange one, a nosy one, a life full of odd objects and secrets and unfinished projects and more local corruption than any one woman should reasonably have to metabolize. But it was a good life. A little too fucking short if you ask me, but yeah, a good life. And you two, you two were a big part of that. Maggie May, you were never hard to love. Not once. Not when you were little. Not when you were impossible.

Not when you left.

Not now. And Amy, you came into my life sideways and stayed there, which frankly is how the best people usually arrive. You never asked if you belonged here. You just did. I loved you both. I love you both. I suspect I always will. Whatever that means from wherever I am by the time you're watching this.

Amy, no, no, I'm fine, I'm okay.

Always remember, I'm proud of you. I am so proud of you. I'm proud of you because you kept becoming yourselves, even badly, even slowly, even after everything. So this is the part where I say goodbye. And I suppose, if I'm honest, I still don't particularly care for that. But there it is. It's okay to cry. Doesn't, like, Gandalf say something about that? Crying isn't always bad. So, yeah. Goodbye, Ames. Goodbye, Maggie May. Be kind to yourselves. Be curious. Be happy if you can manage it. And if you can't manage happy right away, settle for alive. Take care of each other. Try not to make the same mistakes I did. Or at least make prettier ones. All right. That's enough from me. I love you.

I'm, I'm okay, yeah, yeah, great, just, just crying a bit. Are you okay?

Oh, oh yeah, I'm okay, totally fine.

I mean, it's okay if we're, if we're not fine, right? It's okay, of course. Good, good, yeah. Crying and hugging are okay. Yes.

Yeah.

My lord, that was... That was a lot, Dee Dee. Holy shit. What...

What do we... What do we do?

I... I don't know. But I don't think we have to decide tonight. No.

No, we probably don't.

Is it... Is it morning?

I think so. You want to go upstairs? Yeah. Balcony?

Yeah.

Let's go.

Okay, wow, it is aggressively early.

Yeah, or, you know, late.

I mean, this is considered the morning, and the morning is by definition early, right?

Sure, sure, but we haven't gone to bed yet, so it's technically still night from our perspective.

Dude, there are birds chirping, that is morning. Yes, they are still negotiating whether they want to exist yet, but they are chirping nonetheless.

I thought it would be nice to come out here.

It is, it is, Chica, but just like early and, you know, a wee bit chilly.

Oh, you want a blanket?

No, no, no. If I go back inside, I will immediately lie down on the floor and become part of the floor, and then you will have to solve Dylan's murder with a floor as your partner.

Tempting, but fair. No blanket. Got it.

This is nice, though.

It is, yeah.

We never used this balcony when we were kids.

I think Dee Dee said it was structurally suggestive.

Way more fun than just saying unsafe.

Exactly. I think she fixed it up after I left town.

I guess I don't remember her doing that weird. So, that video?

Yeah, big lift.

Right, like emotionally?

And technologically.

I still can't believe she built all that. And like, she didn't even tell us how.

I can believe it. You can? Yes.

Explain.

Dee Dee ran a curiosity shop.

Famously.

Which means people were constantly bringing her weird stuff.

Boxes from attics.

Drawers from dead relatives.

That one jar of teeth.

Do not remind me about the jar of teeth.

I'm still pretty sure those were all human teeth.

Yes, Amy, that's the fucking terrifying part. My point is, she was always cataloging things.

Right.

Stories, objects, people.

Patterns.

Exactly.

Still, this is a secret countywide surveillance archive hidden under a curiosity shop. It's like half a premise of a weird but cozy genre blending content series of some kind, but not like something someone just kind of does in their spare time as a midlife crisis thing or whatever.

Right. Where even did she get the servers?

I'm not sure I want to know. And if that means this place awakes all of its haunted dolls to drive me out of here forever for my lack of curiosity, then so be it.

Dramatic, but totally fucking possible.

You know what's crazy?

People who hate ice cream? Yes!

What the fuck?

But also, the fact that Dee Dee kept all of that secret for years.

Yes.

Like, people were hanging out upstairs while she was running a covert information network underneath us. Like, I was hanging out upstairs. Man, why am I even in the detective game? Stupid.

Okay, okay. Easy there, buddy.

Oh, and she was so smug about bringing us back together, too. Ha.

Yeah, yeah, she was.

Right? And acting all like she knew.

Well, I mean, she probably did.

How? I could have avoided you. She didn't know. How could she know? How could she know I was following Dylan? How could she know he would happen to come here, and you would happen to be outside, and I, like, would just happen to have a seizure, and you would, uh, happen to be a doctor?

Almost doctor.

Whatever. That's a lot of moving parts needed for a reunion is what I'm saying.

Sure.

Also, and let's not forget, I am unpredictable at the best of times. A loose cannon, a wild card, a renegade if you will, a rebel if you must, feral, ethereal. Like a ghost wolf.

I will accept wild dog maybe, but not ghost wolf.

Same thing.

A ghost wolf is not a wild dog, and I was being generous. You resemble a raccoon more than anything else. Those are unpredictable, I suppose.

Ugh, fine. Dee Dee was right about us.

Yeah, she was.

She knew I couldn't stay mad at you once I saw you. I mean, ugh, just look at that face.

Oh my God. I mean, even I know you couldn't, and obviously she knew, and really, I think pretty much, like, pretty much everyone knows that, actually.

Okay, okay, you're super cute right now, but don't get cocky.

You hate that she was right.

No, but yes, fair. So what do we do?

I really, really don't know.

Same.

But like we said before, I don't think we have to decide right now.

Dee Dee literally told us not to.

Exactly. It's weird. Weird? What's weird?

The fact that she said we could walk away. That somehow makes me want to think about it more.

Agreed.

Oh, God, I'm tired.

Oh, yeah, same. This week has been, I mean, isn't there still a murder out there to be solved?

We've been up for how long?

I stopped tracking time around the illegal surveillance empire portion of the evening.

Look at the sky.

Wow.

That's beautiful.

No notes.

Yeah.

I hate that Avalon Falls can still look like this.

I mean, at the end of the day, it's still the Pacific Northwest.

I'm just gonna sit for a second.

Okay.

Not sleep. Sure.

You know, like, just resting my eyes.

Of course, buddy.

Mags, if I fall asleep, you are legally required to wake me up.

Noted.

Okay.

But seriously, if...

Ames? Amy falls asleep faster than I've seen her fall asleep in years, like someone flipped a switch. The sun's coming up over the ocean, the town's starting to make noise again, cars, birds. Somewhere down the street, someone's probably making coffee. Avalon Falls, waking up like nothing strange happened last night. Dee Dee spent years watching this place, recording it, cataloging it, making sure things didn't disappear just because people wanted them to. Tonight, she handed us that choice and reminded us that Amy and I were two people this town tried very hard to forget. And for the first time since this whole thing started, it doesn't feel like something we have to solve immediately. Amy shifts a little in her sleep, doesn't wake up, just pulls her jacket tighter and leans her head against the railing. It's such an Amy way to fall asleep. Mid-sentence. Like the world can wait. And for a minute, it's just the two of us up here. The sunrise, the town, everything we don't know yet. We'll figure it all out. Just not today. She looks peaceful. I don't wake her.