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“Do you want to try sitting up?”
She opens her eyes and looks my way, giving me a small smile.It’s not as bright as her normal one, but I’ll take it.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”I hook an arm around her waist and slowly help her into a sitting position.But I don’t take my eyes off her.Or my hand, keeping hers firmly enclosed in mine.“How do you feel?”
“A little dizzy.”
“Just keep taking deep breaths.”
She follows my suggestion, her chest rising then falling.
“Can you tell us what happened?”Esme’s father asks after several moments, approaching and handing her a bottle of water.
I reluctantly release her hand and give her space, ignoring my father’s glare as I join him and the other members of the royal guard.
“I…” She shakes her head.
“Was it a flashback?”Anderson presses.
“Not a flashback,” she responds, her voice strong and determined.A complete change from the uncertainty that filled it seconds ago.With her gaze focused on me, she confesses, “I saw him.”
“Who?”her father asks.
She briefly closes her eyes and inhales a steadying breath.“The man who shot me.Or at least tried to.He was here.Tonight.In one of the boxes on the opposite side of the theater.By stage left.”
“Esme…,” he sighs, joining her on the divan and taking her hand in his.“I told you.”He drops his voice to barely louder than a whisper, as if embarrassed about what people might think if they learned she’s been having nightmares.“I can appreciate how traumatizing that experience was for you—”
“I’m not imagining it.”She shoots to her feet, but the sudden movement unsteadies her.
In a heartbeat, Anderson is beside her, supporting her, much like he has all his life.
Once she has her balance, she gives him a small nod, and he releases her.But that doesn’t make the concern in his expression disappear.
In mine, either.
“He was here.”She points to the ground, resolute and steadfast.“He was real.”
“How can you be sure?”Her father stands and moves toward her.
“Because I saw him.”
“As you said.”
“No.”She vehemently shakes her head.“Not just tonight.But in my dreams.His face has been getting clearer and clearer every time.He has a scar along his right jawline.And he was here.”
I inhale a sharp breath, my body going ramrod straight.
Did I hear her correctly?Did she say she’s been seeing a man with a scar in her dreams?That he’s the one who pulled a gun on her and killed Adam?
I want to believe it’s all a coincidence.That lots of people probably have scars along their right jawline.That the man she’s been seeing in her dreams isn’t the same one who Hayes Barlow mentioned when he broke into my house.
Because if it is, then maybe Hayes Barlowistelling the truth.
Although, a part of me thinks he’s been telling the truth all along, but I didn’t want to admit it because it would mean Adam’s killer has been roaming the streets for the past decade and I’ve done nothing about it.
“I know how it sounds.”Esme looks around the room, practically begging someone,anyone, to believe her.“But he was here.He could still be here.Andhe’sthe one who tried to kill me a few months ago.Not Charles Thacker.”
