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Because ofme.
Me and my stupid, stupid memory.
Demyen squints at me. “Tell me what happened. That night, when Michael Little died.”
I sigh and lean back against the car. He’s still holding me there, but at least I feel like I have a little more breathing room. “I remember walking home from a friend’s house. She only lived three blocks away and it was a safe neighborhood. Everyone knew my dad was a cop, so no one caused trouble right in front of him.” I purse my lips, puffing out air to cover the scoff.Oh, the irony. “Until that evening, when someone grabbed me from behind and threw me into the trunk of their car.”
“Did you recognize the car?”
“By the inside of the trunk?”
“You know what I mean.”
I never really considered those details before. The rough carpeting, sure, but did I recognize any smells? Clothing stuffed in the corners? “No. My dad drove a Lumina and Mom didn’t drive at all?—”
Demyen frowns. “Why does it matter what your parents drove?”
“I…” I pause. That… is a solid question. “I don’t know. Point of reference, maybe?”
“Hm.”
He’s not letting me go, so I take that as a sign to continue. “I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is waking up inside the crate.”
“And?”
“And that’s when I saw Tolya. He opened the crate to check on me. Asked me if I was okay. Said he’d come back. I think.”
Fingers tighten on my hips. “You ‘think’?”
My own fingers flutter up over my eyes as I try to push the memories forward. But try as I might, it’s all blur and white noise. “That’s where it starts going fuzzy, okay? I can’t?—”
“Did you hear voices? Other than his?”
Maybe?“I don’t know. Arguing? I heard… and then…” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything clearly after that point.”
“So why not tell that to the judge?”
I peer up at him. “What?”
His glare has softened. But he’s still just as pissed as he was when we rushed out of the building. “You’ve had all this time to come clean to the judge. To the appeals council. Hell, write a fucking letter to the D.A. You keep saying you can’t remember? That means you can’t say without a shadow of a doubt that you physically saw Tolya pull the trigger.”
“Oh.”
“But you didn’t. You haven’t. Why not?” Demyen tilts his head to one side like he’s staring at something stuck on his shoe. “Because you’re too fucking selfish to take the stand.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “What?”
“You heard me.”
I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. “How the hell amIselfish?! Do you know what would happen to me if I went up there and told everyone, and I meaneveryone, that I put an innocent man in prison?!”
“A whole lot fucking less than what happened to him.”
That one hurts. It sinks into my chest like a dull knife, and the worst part is—he might actually be right.
But it’s the “might” that prevents me from actually going through with it. “You don’t understand?—”
“The fuck I don’t.” Demyen leans in closer, so close I can almost feel the rumble of his growl through his chest. “I’m not stupid, Clara. You’re scared of what Daddy might think if you challenge his report.”
