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"It's not a mysterious injury. We were out on the search party for the missing teenager and he fell. His boss can confirm that. I can walk you over to her, actually. They're right across the street at the police station. Where she's the chief of police. You might know her."

The man snorted, making it clear exactly what he thought about Bev Cornell, the chief of police here in Lowery's Crossing.

"I know you're lying to me."

"I'm really not, but if that's what you want to keep thinking, then — hey!"

I was around the corner and standing in the doorway before I could stop myself. Alex's pained protest cut through my fear to the very core of me, where I hid the memories of the times I'd made those same cries.

Alex stood near one of the short bookshelves that formed a children's area, his back to it with nowhere left to retreat to. The third man had his arm in what looked like a bruising grip. The other older man, Garth, watched impassively, but the younger one looked shocked, eyes wide. He was reaching for the unknown man when I stepped into the doorway, as if he wanted to stop him.

Alex saw me first, panic and relief warring on his face.

"Quinn! Hey!"

The man immediately let go of Alex, his attention landing on me. "The bookstore is currently closed, Mr. Camden."

That sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't know this man, but he clearly knew exactly who I was. My momentary spurt of insanity-induced bravery withered, and I had to swallow back the urge to vomit.

"Actually, it's not," Alex cut in, saving me from myself. "These men were just leaving."

"We still have some unfinished business, so yes, you're closed." The forceful growl was so similar to the one in my memories that I nearly lost that battle with my stomach, but I held it together.

"The door was unlocked and the sign said you were open," I said, hating the quiver in my voice. "O-Ori was going to meet me here and help me find some books."

That, more than anything else so far, made the older man pause for a moment. Alex picked up on it, too, and ran with it.

"Great. If you three want to stick around a little longer, I can introduce you to Ori Castellanos. They're a very good friend of mine. They might have some information that could help you."

I tried not to wince. That was pushing it a little far. Ori barely topped five feet tall and didn't carry much muscle on their slender frame. These guys would tear Ori apart.

To my surprise, though, the older man throttled back his aggression. Garth seemed unfazed, but the youngest, David, couldn't hide his unease. Why were these three so unnerved by a short, skinny crystal shop owner?

"We'll be back if we have any followup questions, Mr. Copeland," the older man snapped.

"Great. I'll make sure to have my detective boyfriend here to fill in any gaps," Alex replied with a cheerful snark that was probably completely forced.

The two I'd met before walked past me without a word as the three men left. Garth didn't even glance at me, but David seemed almost apologetic, shooting me a quick wince as he hurried past. Their compatriot came last, and unlike the other two, he stopped to face me instead of walking past. How I managed to keep my chin up and meet his eyes, I'll never know.

"I don't know how you're involved in all this, Mr. Camden, but I intend to find out," he warned, voice low and hard. He leaned into my personal space, looming in a way I was all too familiar with. I knew it was a petty power move, but knowing that didn't make it any less effective.

"I-I just wanted some books," I stammered weakly.

His hand was on my throat before I even saw him move, and my paper-thin bravery crumpled, dissolving beneath the weight of the memories and instinctive fears that crashed over me. He said something, but I didn't hear a word. Someone shouted something from behind us, and the pressure on my throat vanished, along with the shadow hovering over me.

His hand on my throat, holding me down.

His voice in my ear, whispering that this was my fault. I pushed him to this. I made him do this.

The weight of his body on top of me. Pain ripping through my body. The hands tightening, my vision dimming as my lungs burned, desperate for air. Then nothing. Nothing but endless darkness.

Hands on my shoulders ripped me from my memories, and I scrambled back, pure terror driving me. I needed space. I needed air. I needed to breathe.

"Quinn, you're safe. It's okay. You're safe."

I'd heard that voice before, whispering those same words to me. Years ago, waking up in a hospital bed, he'd been there making the same promise.

"Lain?" My voice cracked. I couldn't help it. A deep shiver started in my core and worked out to every nerve ending in my body, leaving me a trembling wreck on the floor of the bookstore.