Nicky cleared her throat, but still, the man didn't look up. He didn't seem to notice her standing there. Nicky was about to ask if she could use the phone when he turned his head. He stared at her curiously, letting the cigarette fall to the floor and extinguishing it with his shoe.

"Please," she begged. "The police. I need the police."

That was when the man stood up, realizing this was serious.

The next few hours were a blur. Police arrived. Nicky's parents were called. And Nicky had to lead them back to the cabin by memory.

All the way there, she wasn't sure if it was real. It seemed like a dream. She was walking and seeing things she knew weren't there. She saw the man in the woods, calling her name. She saw Rosie in a ditch. She saw the cabin, abandoned, dark and quiet, and she heard angry, guttural moans from inside.

But when they arrived, the cabin was just as they had left it. The man's van was gone. That was the first red flag.

Nicky pointed out the cabin where the man had taken Rosie, the muddy tracks leading up the deck, and she told them everything she could.

But it was only minutes before the police turned back around.

"Sorry," one officer said. "There's no sign of any girl here."

Rosie was never seen again.

***

Nicky came back from the memory as the exit on the highway came up. The moon and stars shone above, their luminescence blurred by the interstate lights. The sky was a deep blue, and the stars looked like diamonds on the black velvet backdrop.

It wasn't the first time she'd gone into full memory mode while running on auto pilot. It wouldn't be the last. She turned the wheel and took a right off the highway, onto a dark road. In the passenger seat, she could feel Ken's eyes on her.

"You haven't talked in at least twenty minutes," Ken said. "That's not like you, Lyons."

"Sorry," she said. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

Nicky didn't reply. She'd already revealed too much to Ken the other night in the hotel. He was going to start thinking she was too soft, even though she wasn't. Nicky's memories, her PTSD--she didn't consider them a weakness. She considered them a strength.

"What's going on?" Ken asked.

"I'm not soft or anything," Nicky clarified. She wasn't being rude, just wanted to gently let him know that he didn't need to worry. And maybe she did care about earning his respect.

"I never said you were," Ken replied.

"I know." Nicky kept driving for a moment. "Was just thinking about what happened again. That's all."

With your sister.

Nicky nodded with a lump in her throat.

"It's not your fault, Ken said. You didn't know what was going to happen. And you were a kid too."