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“I know,” Damien broke in, interrupting abruptly, then he visibly winced as he turned the lock in the door. “I never told her. So her call to you was legitimate, I swear. She just doesn’t know any better.”
“Excuseme?” I broke in, furrowing my brow in utter bewilderment. “What’re you talking about?Whatdon’t I know? Damien!”
My boyfriend finally glanced at me, and his eyes were so full of guilt and apology that I reared back in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply, his voice cracking on the word and his chin trembling. “I am so fucking sorry.”
“Sor…” I started to repeat, shaking my head.
Dear God. What the hell was he fixin’ to show me?
Releasing a heavy breath, he kept his head turned away to face the hallway, not Thalia’s room, as he turned the knob and then pushed the door open.
I burst past him, rushing inside and crying, “Thalia? Are you…?” only to fall to a confused halt.
Mouth falling open, I turned in a slow, full circle, unable to believe what I was seeing.
But the room was empty.
And not just empty of people. It was stark, stripped-bare, utterlyvoid. There was no carpet on the wooden floor, no bed, no shelf, no decoration, no nothing. It was just four blank walls, a floor, ceiling, window, closet, and an open door that led to the bathroom.
I rushed to the closet and peered inside.
Empty.
So was the bathroom.
At the window, I shoved aside the curtain to find that the seal was securely locked. No one had snuck in or out through there.
Shaking my head, I turned back toward Damien, but he had backed away from the entrance and was resting his tailbone on the wall in the hallway, his hands planted on his knees as he bent over and breathed heavily as if he was about to have a panic attack.
The officer stepped inside and glanced around curiously, but he moved carefully as if not wanting to upset the room.
I shook my head, unable to make sense of any of this. “I don’t understand.”
The cop glanced out the door toward Damien, but myboyfriendappeared to be too rattled to answer me. So the officer winced back at me and pulled a phone from his pocket before looking something up.
As soon as he found it, he turned the screen to show me.
A strange feeling washed over me as if I knew whatever I looked at was going to change my entire life. But I stepped close, anyway, to read the title of the online news article that he’d pulled up.
College Student Found Dead in Apartment.
My ears filled with an insistent buzzing, and my vision wavered, but I blinked to make sure I was reading the text under it correctly.
And just in case I wasn’t, the cop went and announced, “Thalia Archer was murdered—in this very room—ten years ago.”
31
OAKLYNN
“But I…I… No. That can’t be possible,” I told the officer.
Dismissing him because what the fuck did he know—he thought I had freaking prank called him—I spun toward my boyfriend. “Damien?”
Except Damien looked completely wrecked as he slowly lifted his head and straightened. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, his gaze full of apology. “I…I can’t.” Then he slipped away from the wall and stumbled for the stairs.
“Oh, no, you fucking don’t,” I growled, rushing after him. I streaked into the hall, but he’d already disappeared down the steps. “Damien. Dammit, I need answers.”
