was meant to pay. Ten years. That’s the cost. That’s the trade. Corinne has weighed and assessed and assigned it a value. The ten years I’ve fought for. That’s what was owed. Like it’s a blink. Like nothing.
Pay your debts, like everyone else.
My father for hiding her body. Jackson for not taking her back. Tyler, my enabler.
The fairness of it all, the give-and-take, like a ledger of rights and wrongs. I could feel her in this house. How could I not see it before? Of course she had been here. Of course.
And it was so clear that I would do it. I would pay. But not for Corinne.
“Get in the shower,” I said.
“Nic, it’s too late—”
“Leave your clothes in the bathroom and get in the shower.”
“It’s the middle of the day, and it’s not my house. This makes no sense. I came to say goodbye.”
I gripped his arm. “I know you did. And I’m telling you to get in the goddamn shower, Tyler. Please trust me.”
I used a paper towel to wipe up the mud he’d trailed through the kitchen, as the sirens got closer. They were coming here. They were coming for us. “Run,” I said. And he did.
I left his work boots in the back of Dad’s closet, as if they were his. Took the key in the slipper and tossed it into the vent, as far as it would go.
Then I ran to my bathroom. His clothes were on the floor, like I’d asked. I picked them up and ran them down to the laundry room with a pile of my own clothes, starting the machine. Tyler’s clothes from last week were still in my dresser drawer, and I threw them on the floor of the bedroom. Slid out of my own and left them on the floor, too.
“Okay,” I said, stepping into the bathroom. “Everything’s okay.”
The first thing they see is everything. The first thing we say. An investigation lives and dies by first impressions. The story takes a life of its own from there.
The first thing they need to see is me and Tyler coming out of the shower together. It’s the story they wanted in the first place. The motive they wanted to nail Tyler with. Me and him together and Annaleise dead because of it. Now jealousy would be Annaleise’s motive instead.
* * *
I HEARD THE KNOCKING, could see the lights coming through my bedroom window from the bathroom, flashing red and blue against the far wall. I grabbed a towel, wrapped myself in it, handed one to Tyler to do the same. I threw on a bathrobe, padded down the stairs, and opened the door to Mark Stewart, Officer Fraize, Jimmy Bricks, and that guy from State—what was his name? Detective Charles? It didn’t matter. It really didn’t.
Water dripped from my hair in the silence that followed. Mark Stewart blushed, looking away from my robe.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did something happen? Is my dad okay?”
Tyler came down the steps behind me, dripping wet, buttoning his pants. “What is it?” he asked. He, too, froze. “What’s going on?”
“Nic. Tyler.” Officer Fraize nodded at each of us.
The detective was frowning behind him. “I thought you hadn’t been seeing each other,” he said.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Hardly seems like any of your business.”
“Lying during an investigation . . .” His words trailed off as a car pulled up behind them. I craned to see Daniel’s car over his shoulder.
“Why is Daniel here?” I said. “Is anyone going to tell me what you’re all doing here?”
“We have a few questions. We’d like permission to take a look around,” Detective Charles said.
Tyler put a hand on my shoulder. “What’s this about?”
“I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news,” Bricks said. “We found Annaleise. She’s dead.”
Tyler’s hand curled into the fabric of my robe. “So you came to question me?” he asked.
“No,” he said. “That’s not why we’re here.” Detective Charles looked over his shoulder again, at Daniel jogging toward us, at Tyler’s truck parked behind mine. “When did you get here, Mr. Ellison? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I tried to calculate how long it had been since Everett had left. Tried to give Tyler as much of an alibi as possible. “About an hour ago? Maybe more?” I said, peering up at Tyler. His eyes locked with mine, his lips slightly parted, like he was watching the story in my head playing out, becoming real.