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Thank God. Who knows what he would’ve done if he’d found Libby. He claims he didn’t want to hurt her, but he wouldn’t have wanted to leave anyone who could identify him either.

“I never knew your sister was there.” He hangs his head.

“She saw our mother…get killed,” I whisper. “You traumatized…it took her years…took me…” I ball my hands into fists. Fuck this guy! I’m so furious, I want to scream.

I shouldn’t tell him anything personal. He doesn’t deserve to know a thing about our pain. He’ll probably only jerk off to it later.

“I’m sorry. Emily, I’m so sorry. I never—” His voice breaks on a sob.

I snap my head up and glare. How dare he.

He holds out his hands. “I know. I know. I don’t have any right. I think about them…about you and your sister…every day. I pray for you.”

“Fuck your thoughts and prayers,” I seethe.

“I know. I know.”

“What did you think would happen?” I ask. “You’d drag me here and I’d forgive you? We’d become pen pals? Maybe I’d vouch for you at your parole hearing.” I stare him dead in the eyes. “Never, ever happening.”

“No.” He glances over his shoulder again and leans forward. “Marty. After everything settled. And I was in here. I realized he set me up. He wanted us to kill your dad. Or your dad to kill me. Either way, it solved his problem. Your mom was collateral damage.”

Stunned, I sit there and absorb his theory.

“Anyway.” He blows out a resigned breath. “I’m a dead man walking in here. I wanted you to have the truth from me. Before it’s too late.”

He managed to survive almost a decade in prison. What’s the urgency now?

Who cares?

“Is that supposed to stir up some sympathy?” I ask. “Because I’m fresh out.”

“No.”

“You need a clean conscience to get right with Jesus? Fuck you, Zach. You selfish—” I stop myself and take a deep breath. The emotional and mental damage from this trip will take me months to recover from, but who cares about that? At least he had a chance to unburden himself.

Mercifully, he keeps his mouth shut. Just stares at me with those dark, pleading eyes.

“Time’s up!” the guard yells.

I shoot out of my chair so fast, I twist my ankle and have to press my palms on the table to catch my balance.

Zach stays seated, waiting for the guard.

He looks so damn pathetic and lost. “Do you have family? Anyone who visits you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “My mom died a few years ago. I couldn’t even get compassionate release or whatever to visit her in the hospital.”

Whatever compassion was starting to blossom in my chest vaporizes into ash.

“Yeah, that’s a real bummer,” I sneer. “I didn’t get to hold my mom’s hand when she died either.”

His face pales and he stares up at me with wide, watery eyes.

Good.

I turn and walk toward the exit, tears already blinding me.

“Miss.” The guard puts his hand on my shoulder. “You all right?”

I inhale a deep breath and nod quickly. “I’m fine. I’m good. Thank you.”

Why do I feel like I’m the evil one for being so cruel to a monster?

Why’d I come here? What am I supposed to do with this information? Once I clear security and collect my purse, I run out of the prison, into the parking lot, tears burning my eyes.

“Emily.” Dex’s strong voice stops me in my tracks. I blink and he’s already wrapping his arms around me, hugging me to his chest. “It’s okay.” He strokes his hand over my back and kisses the top of my head. “I’m so proud of you, baby,” he murmurs against my ear, keeping his arms wrapped around me tight.

Just his presence, comforting and secure, seems to soothe the pain and confusion away. I slide my arms around his waist and hug him.

“Thank you,” I mumble against his shirt. “You were right. I shouldn’t have come. I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you.” I burst into harsh sobs.

He squeezes me again but doesn’t say anything. Quietly offering his strength and encouragement.

DEX

Pride, fear, and concern pulse through me at a steady clip. The whole time I waited outside for Emily, I wanted to reach through those prison walls and be by her side.

I hated sending her in there alone. How’d she stand it? I wouldn’t have been able to look at the scumbag who killed her parents and not choke him to death.

“I don’t know why. I don’t understand,” she cries, her entire body shaking. “Why? Why now? I don’t know what he wanted. I was cruel, Dex. He’s pathetic and locked away and I still couldn’t budge. Show any kindness. I can’t forgive. I can’t.”

“You don’t have to.” I squeeze her tighter, wishing my arms were a blanket that could keep her safe from the whole world.

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