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“Jenna.”

“What?” I snap at her.

“Dax is here.”

My jaw drops. What?

“And I think he knows. He’s been asking questions.”

Fuck. Isn’t this day bad enough already?

I place my hands on Emily’s shoulders. “Tell him I don’t want to talk to him right now.”

I push her out of the way and run towards the stairs. I see Dax from the corner of my eye.

Shit.

“Jenna!”

I ignore him.

“Jenna!” He grabs my wrist right after I’ve climbed up the first step.

I draw a deep breath. “Not now, Dax.”

I don’t have the mind or the strength to deal with him right now.

“Yes, now,” he says. “In fact, this conversation should have already happened.”

So he does know.

I wrench my hand away. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, Dax.”

“I think there is,” he tells me. “There are some questions I have to ask you.”

I step down and fold my arms over my chest. “But you already know the answers, don’t you? Isn’t that why you’re here even though it’s already late and you probably have better things to do?”

He frowns.

“You want confirmation? Fine.” I let my arms drop to my sides. “I don’t work for NASA. I didn’t even apply.”

I see the disappointment in his ebony eyes. If I wasn’t already hurting so much from the trip to the police station, that would probably feel like a dagger.

“Because I didn’t finish college,” I go on. “Shortly after you left, my mother and my sister had an accident on their way to see me and they both died. My mother died instantly and my sister survived just long enough so that she could die in my arms.”

The disappointment in Dax’s eyes fades. What? He didn’t know that?

“Jenna…”

I lift my hand. “Please don’t say sorry. I’ve heard enough apologies for one night.”

In fact, I’ve heard enough words. I turn around.

“So then Shanna isn’t…?”

“Shanna is mine,” I turn back around to tell him. “I had to give up everything for her. She’s why I didn’t finish college. She’s why I’m a librarian here in this town and not the NASA scientist you boast of like another trophy on your shelf.”

“I never…”

“And she’s why I can’t be with you,” I add in a trembling voice. “So goodbye, Dax.”

I rush up the stairs.

“Jenna, wait!” Dax calls after me. I hear him start to climb up.

“Don’t follow me!” I shout at him. “Just leave me alone!”

I’m not good enough for him anyway. He doesn’t need me. I’m not even sure if he loves me.

I go straight to my bedroom. Inside, I find Shanna sleeping soundly in spite of all the chaos, completely unaware of everything that’s just happened. I keep my gaze on her as I lean on the door and let myself slide to the floor. Tears coat my cheeks. My glasses blur.

Shanna doesn’t know that tonight, I spoke to the woman whose husband killed her mother and her grandmother, who almost killed her. She doesn’t know that tonight, I learned there will never be justice for their meaningless deaths. She doesn’t know that tonight, I lost the only man I ever loved.

I clutch my chest as I start to sob silently.

God, I wish I could forget it all, too.

Chapter Eleven

Dax

The smell of cigarettes stuck to the walls. The peeling paint. The hard mattress.

I thought I was past sleeping in rooms like this, yet here I am in a broken-down motel, staring at a ceiling which has turned from white to taupe, a part of which is held together by strips of duct tape.

That part better not fall down on me or I swear I’m shutting down this hotel.

I sit up. My forehead throbs.

I’m thinking I drank a little too much whiskey last night. Then I see the nearly empty bottle on the table.

Alright. I did drink too much.

I touch the back of my head. What am I doing? Why did I check into this cheap motel instead of flying back home? Why did I get myself drunk enough to have a hangover in the morning?

Then the memories of last night come back. Right. Jenna. We had a fight. We broke up. None of this makes sense. I feel like I never knew her. I don’t know anything anymore.

Just then, my phone rings. It’s on the table, right next to the whiskey bottle. I grab it and look at the screen to see Victor’s name.

I do know Victor is going to give me an earful about not showing up to work.

I answer the call anyway. “Victor.”

“Good, you’re alive,” he says. “Are you coming to work today or not?”

I shift the phone to my other ear and suppress a yawn. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Dax?”

“No. I feel like shit.”

Which is every least bit true.

There’s a pause on the other end. “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said – ”

“None of this is your fault, Victor,” I tell him. “But if you want to do something for me, cancel my meetings for today.”

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