Sarah Turney

Yeah, and the what ifs.

Yeah, absolutely.

Like, you always think, what if?

What if I did something different that could have changed the whole course of this?

And when you overanalyze, you go back and you think, you know, were they hinting at something?

You try to, like, draw any information or any clues you can out of those last statements.

Absolutely.

You know, if you know somebody that deeply, right, something like they didn't have coffee that morning could make all the difference.

You know, like what happened?

Why were they thrown off?

Absolutely.

It's January 24th, 2006, sometime before 7.30am.

Jennifer's tan lines are fading.

Her bags haven't even been unpacked.

Her suitcase sits on the floor of her living room, waiting for that dreaded laundry day.

Jennifer lays out a few different outfits on her bed and chooses one for work.

Then she turns on the shower and hops in, going through that same autopilot routine we all do.

Afterwards, she gets in front of the mirror and does her hair and makeup the same way she does every single morning.

She checks the clock.

It's getting close to 7.30 a.m.