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“So tonight, I ask you to join me in a moment of silence. For the five young lives we lost in the mill fire, and for the six friends we’ve lost during this terrible week. May their memories live on in our hearts, and may we never forget the joy they brought into our lives.”

One by one, people bow their heads in silent remembrance. I reluctantly do the same, lowering my head to the candle in my hands as an eerie stillness settles over the square. Even the usual sounds of Fairhope seem to fade away, leaving nothing but the occasional rustle of leaves and the faint hum of the lights overhead.

Ten years ago, five students died in a fire.

This week, six more have lost their lives.

And here we all are, standing around a memorial, pretending these are two separate tragedies.

But they’re not. They never were.

The six people we’re mourning tonight weren’t just connected to the five who died ten years ago. They were directly responsible for their deaths. Six of Peyton’s so-called beautiful sisters, whose cruelty cost my friends their lives, are now being remembered as innocent victims of some terrible tragedy.

I can’t help wondering if the person responsible for their murders is standing somewhere in this crowd, bowing their head along with the rest of us, knowing that same ugly truth.

“Why?” I hear someone sob.

“Why?” The voice comes again, louder this time, breaking through the silence that has settled over the square.

I lift my head, searching for whoever is speaking, only to find Kayla standing on the other side of the crowd, staring straight at me.

“Why haven’t you come for me yet?” she asks, stumbling forward, her steps faltering every few seconds. “You went after them, but you still haven’t paid me a visit. Why?”

Jesus Christ. Is she really talking to me?

A cold sweat breaks out along my brow when everyone around us begins looking between Kayla and me, their initial confusion morphing into suspicion.

“I was there too,” she cries, wiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was there, Max. You know I was. You saw me.” Her voice rises with every word, growing more agitated as she pushes her way through the crowd. “So why haven’t you come for me? Why?!”

“Kayla! Stop, sweetheart!” I hear a familiar voice from within the crowd.

Betty rushes toward her daughter, with Bill close behind. She catches Kayla by the arm, but Kayla immediately wrenches herself free and continues stumbling toward me.

“I need to know, Mom!” she cries over her shoulder. “I need to know why I’m still alive!”

“Oh, fuck,” Sienna mutters beside me. “Max, we should go.”

But I don’t move. I can’t. Because beneath the tears and the desperation in Kayla’s eyes, there’s something else. Something painfully familiar.

I recognize that kind of suffering. The kind that eats away at you from the inside until there’s barely anything left of the person you used to be.

I’ve lived with that misery. I breathed it into my lungs. But seeing Kayla like this has my heart breaking for the two of us.

“Everyone in this town knows what really happened,” Kayla continues, her voice trembling. “Or at least they’ve heard the rumors. But they don’t care. Why the fuck would they? They got rich off my brother’s death. They turned what happened to him and the others into a fucking gold mine, and they’ve been lining their pockets ever since. You think any of them want the truth to come out? Of course they don’t. Not when there’s still money to be made.” Her voice cracks, but she pushes on. “But you and I know the truth, Max. We were there. We know what really happened.” She suddenly turns and points an accusing finger toward the podium. “And so does she!”

A collective gasp moves through the crowd as everyone turns toward Peyton, whose carefully composed mask of grief has vanished, replaced by something that looks an awful lot like rage.

“Eli, I think it’s time you helped Kayla along,” Peyton says sharply, trying to control her temper.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” I shout before I can stop myself, pointing my own finger at both the mayor and the chief of police. “She’s not doing anything wrong.”

“She’s disturbing the peace,” Chief Neptune replies, giving Andre a curt nod to intervene.

Still, Kayla doesn’t seem to notice the deputy making his way toward her, too fixated on me. When she finally reaches me, her legs give out beneath her. On her knees, she stares up at me with such desperation that I feel something inside my chest twist painfully. It’s the look of someone who’s run out of reasons to keep going and is begging me to ease her misery by making it all go away.

“Please,” she whispers, clasping her hands together. “Please, Max. I need you to do it. I can’t. I’ve tried to do it myself, but I can’t.” A sob tears from her throat as she shakes her head. “I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live with the pain. It hurts too much.”

I swallow dryly, bending down and reaching for her hands to help her up.