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The breath leaves my lungs like a crushing weight just descended on me. My chest heaves, but I can’t pull in any oxygen.
“No. I didn’t see anything,” River says quietly. “I’ve never heard about this man before.”
“Yeah, I dunno what she’s talking about,” Dax mutters. His jaw twitches as he says it, and when Chase echoes his words, the copper-haired twins both look almost angry.
What?
“They’re… lying,” I force out.
My voice doesn’t sound like my own, and I’m starting to feel that same numbness in my fingertips I did after we saw Iris die—like my body is becoming a foreign entity, something strange and uncomfortable my consciousness is trapped inside.
Detective Dunagan sighs, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “Miss Thomas, I know you’re worried for your mother. But making up stories won’t help her.”
“I’m not! They’re the ones who are lying!” I run toward Lincoln and pull the phone from his grip before he can stop me. “He took pictures. Look! Look! We have pictures of the man who did this! It’s not—”
My words break off. My finger swipes desperately over the screen again and again.
There are no pictures.
None at all.
Every single photo on the phone has been erased, wiped out with a few taps of Lincoln’s finger. That must’ve been what he was doing earlier when he pulled his cell out.
The small device falls from my hands, and I don’t know if it hits the ground. I don’t know if it cracks, don’t know if it breaks. And I don’t care.
My gaze tracks slowly up to meet Lincoln’s. His face is impassive, his eyes carefully blank.
“You…” I choke out. My lips feel numb, my throat tight. “You… How—could you?”
He doesn’t respond, and movement behind me pulls my attention away. The officers have opened the back door of one of the police cars and are putting my mom inside, one of them placing a hand on her head to make her duck.
My heart cracks; the blood it was pumping turns to poison.
I didn’t even get to hug her. Didn’t get to say anything to her before they took her.
The door closes with a dull thunk, and I see her pale, wan face staring back at me through the window. Tears cascade down my cheeks, blurring my vision as Detective Dunagan joins the other officer in the second car. Their lights flash, but no sirens wail as they pull around the circle drive and head back toward the main entrance.
They took her.
They just fucking took her.
They think she murdered Iris.
And the one piece of evidence I might’ve used to convince them otherwise is gone.
I stare at the place where the tail lights of the cop cars disappeared from view for what feels like hours. Then, slowly, I turn around.
My gaze catches on Mr. Black first. He looks shocked and angry, but pity rises in his face when he looks at me. He probably thinks I’m crazy—emotionally unbalanced. That I made all this stuff up just to try to save my mom. That I’d say anything, spout any lies I could think of, to stop them from arresting her.
Audrey is nowhere to be found. She must still be inside entertaining the guests, trying to downplay what happened. For the people inside the house, the party is still going on.
How is that possible when the whole world just came crashing down?
Reluctantly, almost against my will, I find the four boys standing in a group near the base of the stairs. They all wear slightly different expressions, but there’s one thing I see on each and every one of their faces.
Resolve.
What they just did wasn’t an accident. They knew what refusing to back me up and deleting those photos would mean. They didn’t even try to help.
