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“Honey—”
The line went dead.
“Dad?” I waited, but nothing. The call was gone.
“Was that your dad?” Sophie had come over, her eyes on my phone.
I tucked it away. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What was he saying?”
I frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah, but—”
“If she doesn’t want to talk about her dad, especially in these circumstances, leave her alone.” Pialto moved up, touching Sophie’s arm, his gaze on me. He steered Sophie away. They went back to the desk Nurse Sloane had been studying so intently.
I nodded, letting him know I was fine, but I wasn’t. I was suddenly so tired. And worried.
Ashton was still out there. Jess. Trace. It’d been quiet except for an occasional gunshot, and quiet again. I couldn’t handle the silence. I felt like my skin wanted to come off my bones.
“Your father knows who killed Kelly? Jess’s friend?” The question came from Nea, who was staring at my gun.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
She lifted her gaze to me, her eyes narrowed, focused. “That’s what he was trying to find out? Who killed them?”
I frowned at her. “Yeah. Why?”
“Nea.” Nurse Sloane was coming around the desk, fixated on her friend. “Don’t—”
Nea shook her head, her eyes looking a little panicked. “He knows. He knows, Sloane.”
“Nea, don’t—”
Her voice hitched up. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
She’d said that before. My body went cold at her words. “What wasn’t?”
“Um . . . ,” Pialto said from behind me. “What are these?”
“What?” I glanced back. He was staring at the desk, at the pictures there.
Nurse Sloane stepped away, coming toward me. Her face was stricken. Pale, like she’d seen a ghost. “Nea.” Her voice was so low, like a warning.
“Molly.” From Pialto again, more insistent, more alarmed. “These. What are these?”
I held up a hand. “One second.”
Something was happening. Something between Sloane and Nea.
Something . . . why did my stomach take a nosedive?
Dread started lining my insides.
“Molly!” Pialto said it again, sharper.
I looked his way, seeing he was holding a picture, and he was slowly lifting it. “What is this?”
“It’s—uh—Ashton brought pictures for me to look at.”
But the picture he was holding up to me. His eyes were darting from it to Nea and back again. A deep frown on his face.
That picture.
He kept looking from it to Nea and back.
He was confused, but me—dread was lining my organs.
The room was suddenly shrinking in size.
I felt the ground starting to shake under me. It was going to get pulled out from under my feet. I knew it. I felt it coming. I was transfixed by that photo Pialto was holding up. I couldn’t make it out, not all the details, but it was of a woman. Red dress.
It was the woman from outside of Octavia.
It was the picture I’d been looking for, and Pialto had it.
And he was staring, confused, at Nea.
The dots were slowly connecting. Horror began to fill me.
I began to turn, slowly, feeling as if I were moving in mud.
His eyes were jerking from me to the picture to Nea and back again, and again, and again. “I feel like this is important. Why do I feel that? Why do you have a picture of her?” He nodded at Nea.
But Nea was saying right next to me, as if he hadn’t spoken, as if she hadn’t even heard him, “None of this was supposed to happen how it did. None of it. I fell in love, and I shouldn’t have, but I did. He’s a bad guy. I’m trying to tell you, to explain because I was hurting after Ashton. You have to see that. You have to understand that. When you’re so lonely, and then you think you’re getting sunshine, only to have that sunshine taken away . . . you’ll do things to replace it. Things you’re not proud of. Things you regret.”
“Nea!” That was Nurse Sloane.
Pialto’s gaze was solely focused on Nea.
She added, also a whisper, “He’s not the good guy.”
“What?” I was so confused. “What are you talking about, Nea?”
She looked torn, looking at me. Stricken. “I thought I loved Ashton, but he ripped my heart out and then—my guy came after, and he filled me up, but I was wrong. My guy filled the void that Ashton had left behind. I think . . .”
My bad feeling turned into dread.
“Nea,” Sloane hissed again.
Nea wasn’t even seeing her. She wasn’t seeing Pialto. I didn’t think she was even seeing me anymore. It was like she was seeing something else, someone else.
I held my hand straighter, now moving away, turning. Walking backward. Putting space between Nea and me, holding my gun firmly. The safety was still on.
I didn’t want to take it off.
I needed to be safe. Smart.
People I loved were outside, but people I loved were in here.
Nea was almost talking to herself, her head looking down. “I was so stupid, but I was a doctor. And my parents. I wanted to make them so proud of me. I worked so hard for them. I was ambitious. Naive. Trace’s father came in, and no one seemed concerned about how he ended up in the ER. I raised the question, asking if I should call the police. The next day, my patient is gone and Ashton was flirting with me in a coffee shop.”
