I found her in a motel two towns over.
Room 12.
Cheap curtains drawn tight. The smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the faded carpet like ghosts.
She opened the door a crack and when she saw me, her face went white as bone.
“Ava,” she choked. “God. No—no, you can’t be here—”
I shoved the door open before she could bolt, sending her stumbling back.
“Tell me what he did,” I snapped. “Tell me everything, right now.”
Her name was Maren.
Once, she’d been my best friend.
My ride-or-die.
The only person who knew the truth about the lake, the pregnancy lie, all of it.
She was the one who helped me forge the reports.
The one who helped me pin Asher to the wall like a butterfly and call it justice.
But now she looked like a woman who’d been living under siege.
Pale.
Shaking.
Eyes re
