He calls out my name a few times, but I don’t look back. I jog down the stairs, ready to get the hell out of here. I just want to run away. From everything. And what did he even mean about my past? What does he know that I don’t? I pause at the bottom of the stairway. Should I go back and press him for more?

No, you can’t trust him.

I can’t trust myself.

I step out of the stairway and into the bar. It’s not peaking hour so it’s only about half full, a few guys getting lap dances, soft music playing from the stereo. There’s a waitress at the counter. I’m not even sure what her name is, but it hurts me to see someone else there besides Bella. She’s counting out some one dollar bills, stacking them on the counter and glances up at me, giving me a dirty look. “Why are you here?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, checking the stairway to make sure River hasn’t escaped yet.

She gives me another nasty look. “You know, River may think it’s okay for you to be here, but no one else wants you around.” She puts the stack of ones in the register and shuts it. “Hopefully Leon will fire you soon.”

“Leon fire me?” I question. “He can’t do that. Only Glen can.”

“Yeah, he can. He’s in charge of the bar now,” she says haughtily. “Has been for the last couple of weeks while Glen’s been gone on vacation.”

I glance around the bar, looking for him. Maybe seeing his face will spark a memory. “Is he here now?”

“Nope.” She pauses, collecting the one dollar bills from off the counter. “And aren’t you supposed to be sick or something? That’s why you haven’t been to work right? Or are you hiding from what you did to Sydney?”

So word has gotten around. Vomit burns at the back of my throat but I force myself to remain strong. “Yeah, I was just stopping by to pick up my paycheck.”

“Sure you were,” she says snidely as she drops the bills into the register.

There’s a bang from the stairway and when I turn around I expect to see River there. But instead there’s a guy with dark hair that matches his eyes wearing a black shirt and stone washed jeans, his arms covered in tattoos. One is of a dragon breathing flames across his flesh that I’m pretty sure I’ve seen before… I think I’ve seen more of him before.

His gaze is on the dance floor, but it shifts to me and a small smile touches his face. “Maddie.”

I’m speechless and thankfully the waitress speaks first. “Hey Leon,” she says, reaching for a cup. “We’re running low on chicken wings.”

Leon. That’s Leon. And I’ve met him before… more than once, but where?

His gaze remains on me and I can’t help but think how Bella told me about how he used to be into drug trafficking. “I’ll get some more ordered,” he says, still staring at me. I tell myself that it’s because he’s going to fire me, right here, right now, but when he gives me a friendly nod and then heads off for the stage area, I’m left scratching my head.

I decide it’s time to bail and hurry out from behind the counter, bursting out the front door outside and into the rain. I start across the parking lot, wrapping my jacket tighter around me as rain soaks through my clothes. I have my head tucked down, determined to get the hell out of there without being seen by anyone else, when I hear my name being called out.

“Maddie.”

“God, what now?” I keep walking away, puddles splashing all over my legs, hair soaked. Maybe if I move quickly enough, I can outrun him.

“Lily.”

I stop dead in my tracks. Fuck.

Grinding my teeth, I turn around. Detective Bennerly is standing near a black car, smoking a cigarette and holding an umbrella. He has a long trench coat on, the collar pulled up, like he’s desperately trying to play the part of detective. I’m hesitant to go over to him, but at the same time it’ll probably look bad if I don’t, so I amble over to his car, stopping just short of him.

“It’s Maddie,” I remind him. “I don’t go by Lily anymore.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette and he ashes it, eyes fixated on me. “Sorry, but you weren’t answering to Maddie, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

“I didn’t hear you the first time,” I say as he stands up straight and steps toward me, moving the umbrella with him and positioning it over both of our heads. I wipe the water from my forehead and cheeks, chattering from the cold. “Did you need something?”

It takes him a second to answer and the whole time his eyes are on me. “Do you want a ride?” he asks, throwing me off guard.

I quickly shake my head and begin to step back. “No thanks. I can take the bus.”

“Let me give you a ride,” he insists. It’s not a request but an order.

I reluctantly nod and he gestures for me to get in. I climb into the passenger seat while he gets into the driver’s, putting away his umbrella before he closes the door. He starts up the engine and then cranks up the heat. “Where are you headed?” he asks, ruffling his hand through his hair in an attempt to dry it.

I was planning on going to see Ryland, get a break from this, and maybe hide out for a while, but now I have no choice but to go to one place. “Home.”

He nods and then backs out of the parking space. “You know the police were called out to your place today,” he says as he cranes the wheel and turns onto the road with the windshield wipers on high as the rain pours down from the cloudy sky.

I buckle my seatbelt. “Huh? Why?”

He glances at me. “You don’t know?” he asks and I shake my head. “Oh, your mother said it was because of you... that you set the alarm off.” He slows to stop at a stoplight. “She seemed a little upset about it.”

“That’s just how she is,” I explain, getting the feeling that this is more than just a ride home. “She worries about me all the time.”

“I wonder why that is?” he asks, pressing on the gas when the light turns green.

I shrug. “I don’t know. Probably because I got hit by a car and lost my memory,” I suggest. “That can make a person worry.”

“How old are you, though?” he asks, but I can tell he already knows. He just wants to hear me say it.

I answer anyway. “Twenty-one.”

“That’s a little old for your mother to still be worrying about you so much. Don’t you think?” he questions, flipping his headlights on.

“I completely agree with you,” I say, rotating in my seat to face him. I think about telling him I’m moving out, to show some maturity, but that also would probably make him a little suspicious. “Detective, what’s this really about?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his expression guarded, making it impossible to read him.

“I mean, you showing up at the bar when I’m there and then offering to give me a ride home,” I say. “I’m guessing that it’s not a coincidence.”

“It’s not,” he replies, steering the car down the side road that leads to my house. “I was there because your mother said you went to work—that’s why the alarm went off.” He pauses. “But by the amount of time you were in the bar, I don’t think that was why you were there.”

“Have you been following me?” I ask. Calm down.

He shrugs, reaching to adjust the heat. “I happened to show up just as you were going inside,” he says. “So I waited to see how long you were in there.”

“I was picking up my paycheck,” I lie without missing a beat.

“Can I see it?”

I pretend to check my pockets then frown. “Shit. I must have left it back at the bar.”

“Well that sucks,” he says, not buying it. “You want me to turn around so you can go pick it up. Besides, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to River about your alibi not just about Sydney but about Bella Anderfells. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but she’s been reported missing, strangely the same day as Sydney was killed.”

“I have heard,” I tell him, facing forward in the seat again, watching the raindrops river down the windshield. I wonder if they found her bloody apartment yet. “It was on the news.”

“Yeah, weren’t you guys close?”

“Sort of.”

He continues toward my house, making a left on Cherry Lane Road. “I’m guessing your alibi’s still the same for Bella too. That you were with River on the night and morning of March 15.”

I nod, thinking about how if I did kill her, it was days later so technically I’m not lying. “I already told you I was.”

“Yeah, but I was just double checking.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “Sometimes people change their minds about stuff like that.”

“Well, I don’t have to change my mind because it’s the truth.”

“Alright.”

He doesn’t believe me and quite honestly I’m not even sure I believe me.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that I went through your file.” He’s making it sound like a casual mention, but it’s clearly been planned. He wants me to hear whatever it is he found.

I look at him, puzzled. “File?”

He glances at me again, getting a good look at my face, and I hope it portrays that I’m calm, casual, and completely cool, instead of the erratic instability I’m feeling inside. “Yeah, the one filled out for the accident six years ago.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask smoothly. “Find anything interesting?”

“Should I have found anything interesting?”

I make steady eye contact with him. “You tell me, since you’ve gone through it. I on the other hand have no idea what it says.”

His eyes land on me and the intensity flowing from them almost causes me to melt back in the seat. “Did you know that you had a high dose of flinitrazepam in your system the night you were hit?”

I shake my head, baffled. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“The street name for it is Rufi.” He watches me closely.

“You mean the date rape drug… What? How?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why. I don’t think it was ever looked into.” He presses on the brake and I realize we’re at my house and turning into my driveway. “You know, it’s strange.” He puts the car in park, parking it right in front of the garage. “A girl in the middle of the street, gets hit by a car, the driver takes off, and you have drugs in your system. Yet her mother doesn’t want the investigation looked into further. Especially one that worries so much.”

I want to ask him what else he read, but in doing so, I feel like I’m putting myself at risk. For whatever reason, he seems to think I have some kind of connection to Sydney’s murder and asking him questions will probably make him question me more.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, pushing open the door and hopping out into the rain before he can say anything else.

“Any time,” he says with a trace of a pleased grin on his face.

I shut the door and run inside the house with every intention of confronting my mother about the drugs, the fire, the hospital, but to my shock she’s gone. I’d left my phone in my room and find about a dozen missed calls from her and a text.

Mom: Went looking for you. If you get home before I do, don’t leave. Do you understand me? You weren’t supposed to leave the house and the cops came today. I’m serious Maddie…

I stop reading it because it doesn’t matter.

My life is one big lie.

You can trust me. I tell the truth, no matter how painful it is.

I sink down on my bed and watch the rain shift from a downpour to a drizzle, listening for the front door to open, for my mom to walk in. The longer I wait, the more frustrated I get. I was drugged that night and she didn’t want it investigated. Drugged? Why wouldn’t she have it looked into? Why is she always lying to me about everything? To protect me? Because what I’m going through now is anything but protection.

“I wonder what she’d do if you were here,” I say to Lily. “If you showed up and spoke to her… she has to know you exist?”

Maybe we should find out.

I remain sitting on my bed and consider that for about an hour. The more time passes by the more I just want to get away. I know I’m moving, but that can’t happen overnight. I need to just take a day off. Away from my mother. Detective Bennerly. I don’t want to be somewhere where River can find me and confront me after he gets the cuffs off. I just want to be alone, where I don’t have to worry about anything, just for a little while. I want to be able to breathe again. I miss breathing.

Without much deliberating, I grab a blanket and pillow from my closet, grab a heavy coat and fill up a bag with snacks. Even if it’s only for a day, I need a break from all this madness and there’s only one place I can go to get just that.