“What happened to Lori?” He braced a hand on the back of my chair, close enough his heat radiated through my spine. “How did she die?”

The raw ache in his voice, a mirror to my own, caused me to come undone for the first time since I sobbed on my mother’s lap, salt burning the cut on my foot, blood smearing her bare knee, and I found myself talking without making the conscious decision to confide in him.

“The ocean…” I rubbed my throat like it might loosen it. “Every summer my extended family gathered, ditched the RVs and hiked through the Great Smoky Mountains. It was tradition. Lori and I—we loved it.” The weight of him at my back made speaking easier. “One summer Mom got a wild hair to see the ocean. It had been so long, she said, and everyone ought to see the Gulf at least once.”

“What happened?” A soft question with rounded edges that still managed to slice through me.

“We sneaked out of our parents’ trailer and ran down to the beach. It was late. Past midnight. We were alone.” My voice trembled. “I cut my foot on a shell. Lori was running ahead of me. I couldn’t catch up to her. She was always faster than me.” I had to try a few times before the rest came rushing out. “She splashed into the surf. I told her not to, but she waded out into the water. I didn’t go in after her because I didn’t want my foot to burn.” Fresh tears welled. “She was standing there. Right there. In front of me. And then she was gone.” I wiped my hands over my cheeks. “I couldn’t see her, but the screams…”

“Ellis...” His hands curved around my shoulders. “That’s enough. You don’t have to share any more.”

Too late. It was too late to stop the torrent of memory from spilling between us. The story wanted to be told, like spitting out the words would somehow absolve me for my part in Lori’s death. “I ran to find my parents.” I stared at the empty seat in front of me, picturing Lori sitting there bundled up and safe instead of Elizabeth. “I left her alone. I didn’t even try to help her. I just…ran.” Her screams had chased me back to the campsite. “Mom had already noticed us missing. She always checked in on us during the night, like she was afraid we might vanish if she didn’t make sure we were tucked safely into bed each time she passed our room. They saw me and heard Lori. They ran to the beach, but she was gone.” I wiped my nose. “We never recovered her body.”

A hard note entered his voice, and it sounded dangerously close to a reprimand. “That’s why you’re working these cases.”