“So, I’ve been looking at that list.” We’re alone in the kitchen, but I still check to make sure no one’s around to hear our conversation. “And Bailey talked Denny’s Garage into giving us a list, too. I compiled the names and have been going through them.”
“Okay. Any luck?”
I shake my head. “I keep thinking about that night and what I saw. Did you ever take a criminology class?”
He nods. “A couple.”
“You know how they teach you that memory’s not static? It’s dynamic? So someone can suggest an idea, and you might layer that idea into your memory without realizing it.”
“Right,” he says cautiously.
“I don’t know if that’s what’s happening, but ever since I saw Coach’s name on that list, I’ve been thinking about what I saw that night. Now when I close my eyes and recall the car driving away, I see a white bumper sticker on the tailgate of the car.”
He folds his arms. “Okay.”
“I keep thinking maybe it had a streak of red through it. Like a Blackhawk Football bumper sticker. Like the one Coach has on the tailgate of his car.”
He shakes his head. “I’m telling you, Mia. I worked on that job. I remember it. He hit a deer.”
“I know it’s ridiculous. I know it, okay? But I have this idea in my head, and sometimes when I get an idea in my head, I just can’t make it go away.”
“You’re talking about my coach,” he says.
“I know.”
He sighs heavily and turns to look out the back window, where Keegan tosses a long-legged blonde into the pool. “I’ll tell you what,” he says. “I actually know how I can put your mind at ease.”
“You do?”
“If I can prove to you that Coach wasn’t involved, will you drop it?”
“How are you going to prove that?”
“You’ll see.” He grins. “What do you say? I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon. I’ll show you what you need to see, and then you go on a date with me as payment.”
I open my mouth to say no and then remember Trish standing in the study with Arrow.
Sebastian is adorable. Well, okay, Bailey would say he’s hot, and he’s definitely got the sexy body thing happening, but he’s adorable in that floppy-eared puppy kind of way. His hair’s always falling in his face, and he keeps flashing that lopsided smile, like he can’t be bothered to bring the other side of his mouth up to meet the first. He’s adorable and he likes me and he doesn’t confuse the shit out of me.
“It’s a deal.”
* * *
“You didn’t need to come today,” Mrs. Barrett says behind me. “I cringe to think of what you’ve been spending on gas.”
“It’s worth it,” I tell her. The truth is, I’m afraid he’s going to die before I’ve said all I have to say, but every time I stand by his side, the words dry up on my tongue. “How is he?”
She steps forward and squeezes my wrist. Sebastian’s picking me up from the Woodisons’ in two hours, but I wanted to squeeze in a trip to the Barretts’ first. Instead of answering my question, she says, “Have you thought any more about singing at the funeral?”
Then again, maybe that’s her answer.
I don’t know if I’m ready. I’ve squandered so much time with him. Wasted our last good night together and have been holding my breath waiting for a second chance. Maybe half of grief is just accepting that we don’t get one.
I draw in a breath. “I haven’t decided.”
She gives my wrist a final squeeze. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”
I watch her leave, grateful that she pulls the door shut behind her to give me some privacy. Suddenly, I know what I need to say.
I take his hand in mine and squeeze. When I close my eyes, he’s bloody in my arms again, apologizing with his final words. “I forgive you. For Trish. For refusing to take me home. For all of it.” I swallow hard. I’ve been so busy taking the blame onto myself that I’ve never taken the time to tell him he’s forgiven. Maybe that’s what we all need to hear—to believe—if we’re going to find some peace. “None of us are perfect, and I never wanted you to be, either. Thank you for loving me.”
When I open my eyes, they see a body on the bed that once belonged to Brogan, but he’s not there anymore. Maybe he hasn’t been for