“The kind that feels like death.” Cash finally met her eyes. Sweat beaded along his upper lip, and he licked at it, his tongue dragging along the skin there. “I ran down.”

The truth? Maybe. “You did?”

He thumbed at the space between his brows, and she wondered if his headache mirrored hers. “Believe me, I didn’t want to. Back then, though . . .”

They both paused. They both knew Izzy could see what he was now, could see the cracks in his character that everyone else seemed to gloss over.

“Back then I thought I was brave.” The corners of Cash’s lips tipped up in self-mockery.

Izzy stayed still.

“There was so much blood. God.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I, um . . . Mia was on the floor, and when she looked at me . . .”

His eyes dropped down to his lap. The tick of a clock somewhere behind him counted the hesitation, each second more damning than the last.

When he drew in a breath, Izzy’s pulse tripped because he still hadn’t mentioned Lacey being there. But Izzy had to be right about it. Who else could Charles have meant? Her.

Except . . . Except there was another her.

“When Mia looked at me. She said”—Cash paused, glanced up—“she said, ‘They weren’t supposed to cut that deep.’”

Izzy’s brain tripped. “What?”

Cash shoved his fingers through his hair, yanked. “God, I ran over to her—she’d just done the one wrist—it was pretty shallow. I took the razor from her, and she just smiled up at me.”

“It was just the three of them?” Izzy clarified again. Lacey. Where had Lacey been?

Her. Her. It had to be Lacey. Everything else fit.

For the first time since Izzy had stepped into the house, Cash’s attention really focused on her. “Who else would have been there?”

She shook her head, a dismissal she didn’t know if he’d let her get away with. “What happened after you found her?”

“I don’t know, I think I was yelling at her,” Cash said. “It’s kind of hazy. But I remember I was terrified. I grabbed her shoulders at one point, pulled her to her feet, and shook her a little. She looked doped up on something, so I slapped her across the cheek like they do in movies.” His cheeks flushed red at the admission.

“Did that work?”

“Yeah, it was like a light had switched.” Cash nodded. “She went wild, thought she could help the other two but . . .”

It was too late.

A fucking suicide pact. This whole thing had been an actual suicide pact. Or at least an attempt. They weren’t supposed to cut that deep. What did that even mean?

Her.

“When did you leave?” Izzy asked.