Amy: It had to do with a man. And [redacted.] And her mother.
There’s an odd low humming sound coming through my speakers; it is decidedly not a lawnmower.
Me: Are you hearing that?
Amy: Mmm hmm.
Me: Because that’s not the lawnmower, that’s — that’s on —
Amy: I’m hearing that and I also keep hearing, um, what sounds to me like… mumbling.
There’s another very clear sound of the lawnmower outside. It’s not like what we heard before. I wait for Amy to say more.
Amy: There’s a fascination in JonBenet from… a third party. And a, feeling of… an offering.
Someone from work messages me through our corporate chat and I quickly hide it, watching Amy’s face. Her hands are folded in prayer.
Amy: This is very big. Um. So. Give me a… moment.
Me: Okay. Take your time.
I wait. Amy’s fingers grip each other tighter as the moments go on.
Amy: So she’s showing me a lamp. That is like… ornate. Brass. In color. Um. Almost like, what an old candlestick would look like? Back in the day? It’s a lamp, but the shade is off.
Another long moment passes. Amy’s hands are still interlocked, her eyelids flutter. I know something big is coming.
Amy: So… there was some dark stuff. Going on. In this [redacted,] with these [redacted.] People in high positions. Nobody’s innocent. And… Patsy… someone’s on their hands and knees. An adult. It feels… ritualistic. And… nasty. And dark. And…
Amy’s head rolls back; she clasps her hands in prayer again.
Amy: I’m not seeing, clearly, um, the level of involvement over — what is happening — but I feel, I’m being shown who killed her. So… from what I am seeing…
She covers her face with her hands. Sighs. Puts her hands on her chest.
