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I shook my head. “No. Not at all.”
“All right. What’s the last thing you remember?” Steenkamp asked.
“Going to bed.”
Her brows lifted. “Let’s rewind a little. Can you run me through your day before that?”
“Okay.” I lifted one shoulder in a vague shrug. “It was pretty normal. I went to a few lectures and spent some time at the library. Then I had dinner with my friends in the dining hall. Then I walked around for a while with my friend Michaela, because I lost my key. Then we went back to my dorm and studied for a while. After that, I went to bed.”
“What time did your friend Michaela leave?” Caswell asked, scribbling something down on a small notepad.
“Um…” I furrowed my brows, straining to recall. “Eleven, I think? Maybe half past?”
“And you went straight to bed after that?”
I shook my head. “No. I showered first.”
“When you and Michaela were walking around looking for your key, did you remain on campus?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You didn’t go to any bars or nightclubs?”
I snorted with amusement. “No, why would we do that? It was a Tuesday night.”
“Just asking questions, Sienna.” Steenkamp gave me a tight smile. “So the last thing you remember is showering and going to bed.”
“That’s right. So what happened? How did I end up here?”
Caswell spoke up again. “One of your neighbors at the residence hall heard you screaming at two o’clock in the morning. He was concerned, so he called the police.”
“I was screaming?” I slowly shook my head. “I don’t remember that at all.”
“Apparently it was quite loud. You woke a lot of people up,” he went on. “The officers who were called out to the scene couldn’t get you to let them in. They forced the door open and found you handcuffed to your bed.”
“You were nude,” Steenkamp added.
My eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
“Quite serious. You continued to scream, and according to the officers on the scene, you also repeatedly shouted that someone was trying to kill you. Someone with a knife.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my god,” I said in a breathy murmur. “You said I was nude. Was I…”
Steenkamp instantly knew what I was getting at. “When you were brought here and examined, there was no evidence of sexual assault. No injuries of any kind, apart from a few marks around your wrists from the cuffs.”
“There was no evidence that anyone else was even in your room,” Caswell added.
My head was spinning with confusion. I strained to recall any of this stuff happening, but my mind was still blank. I could picture it, though—me screaming my head off, waking everyone in Whittaker.
Oh, god. They were all going to think I’d lost my mind.
“What happened after the police found me?” I asked. “I mean, apart from me screaming.”
“The officers called for medical attention, and you were brought here,” Caswell said. “Apparently it was quite a struggle to get you here. You kept trying to fight off the paramedics, claiming they were trying to kill you.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes. “I honestly don’t remember doing any of that.”
Steenkamp gave me a hard look. “When the doctors ran a tox screen, they found traces of hallucinogens and a powerful sedative in your bloodstream.”
