Matt’s lying.
I go back to my parents’ house after leaving Matt’s, and barely sleep. Savvy is screaming in my head, and I have no idea whether it’s a memory or a figment of my imagination.
“She tried to—”
What? Kill me? She bashed me over the head and so I returned the favor and accidentally killed her?
I wake with only that thought swirling around in my head. I grab the trash can from under the desk and puke in it.
Ben texts asking whether I want to visit the woods near the Byrd Estate again.
I book a flight home to L.A.
Savvy stands in the corner of my room in her bloody pink dress, arms crossed over her chest, judging me.
I deserve it. I’m giving up. I don’t want to know anymore. Even though I told Ben that I didn’t think Matt did it, I have to admit that a tiny part of me was holding on to the tiniest hope that he did. Now that I can so clearly see in my memory the shock on his face, the absolute horror as he looked at me, I can’t hold on to that hope. Matt didn’t kill her.
I was the one holding a bloody tree branch, mumbling about murder. I was probably talking about Matt, about him deserving it, but that doesn’t change anything. Maybe I snapped. Maybe I told Savvy that I didn’t want to kill Matt and she went after him anyway. Maybe I stopped her.
The thought makes me feel sick. I can’t imagine a world where I decided to kill Savvy instead of letting her kill Matt, but it could have been an accident.
And I don’t want to know. I’d rather live with the uncertainty forever than the knowledge that I murdered her.
I decide I can’t completely ignore Ben, because he’s already decided I’m guilty, and shutting him out will just make things worse.
I drag myself out of bed by noon, throw away my puke-filled trash can, and shower.
“I enjoyed killing that guy. Why weren’t you scared of me? Why is it so hard to believe I’d snap? It happened before.”
I close my eyes as the water drips down my face. Savvy’s voice is too loud. It’s not her. It’s me, projecting my fears onto her.
Panic swells in my chest, and I turn the water off. “I will kill you!” Savvy screams.
This is why I stopped trying to remember. I couldn’t tell what was real. I close my eyes and desperately try to shut out everything.
 |
“Leaving?” Ben repeats. I’m standing near the door of his hotel room, hoping to make a quick escape. He takes a step back, into the kitchen, like he hopes I’ll follow him. I don’t.
“Day after tomorrow.” I try to keep my expression neutral. I’ve forgotten how to have a face.
“Why?” He’s wearing his gray T-shirt, the one with the tiny hole at the collar. I’ve pulled that collar to the side so I could kiss his neck. I look past him.
“I’ve been here two weeks. It’s hot. I have to get back to L.A. and move my stuff out of my boyfriend’s apartment.”
He blinks. “You have a boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend. He doesn’t want to date a murderer.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry. “Can I call you for some follow-up interviews in L.A.?”
“Ben, I have spent hours talking to you. Just tell the world I’m guilty and let’s move on.”
He leans against the kitchen counter, staring at me. “What happened?” “Nothing happened.”
“What did you remember?”
“I remembered that I hate true crime podcasts.” “Lucy.”
I reach for the doorknob. “Say whatever you want about me. I don’t care.” I pull open the door and walk out.
