“Yeah. It’s so strange how all of it, the drinking, the men, it gives you this relief, you know? In the moment. But then it just makes it worse. Digs into those spaces.”

Reyes leaned forward and took both of her hands in his.

“Listen, I was a disaster before the chief brought me here. After killing that boy, leaving the job—it was like I wanted to die, only I didn’t have the courage to do it, and more than that . . . there was this annoying part of me that wanted to live, that kept whispering that it wasn’t my fault and that I deserved to live, and I hated that part.”

Every word he said resonated inside her.

“I know—you’re not really trying to kill yourself, you want to kill that annoying voice that keeps telling you to let go of the guilt and start living again. That’s the thing I’ve been trying to kill—with the drinking and the . . . the men.”

“If you keep degrading yourself, maybe that annoying voice will finally shut the hell up and let you drown in the guilt.”

“Yes,” Nic said. “The first time I ever had a drink, I was so desperate to stop feeling. I actually had thoughts of wanting to die. Of jumping off this bridge that runs through our downtown.”

“Jesus, Nic. That’s horrible. Did you ever tell anyone? How you wanted to kill yourself? Jump off a bridge?”

“I told the counselor they made me see. I don’t think she really got it. I don’t think anyone gets it unless they’ve lived it. They were just words to her, when I tried to describe it, the hollow spaces wanting to be filled, but never could, because that day can’t be unlived. I can’t get my sister back. And now my mother . . .”

Nic cried and Reyes pulled her close. Stroked her hair.

Then he repeated what he’d said earlier.

“We are the same, Nicole. And I understand everything you’re saying.”

Nic closed her eyes and let herself go. She let the alcohol settle in, warm her blood and blur her thoughts. There were too many of them, and none she liked.

Except this one. This one thought he had put in her head.

We are the same.

She liked that thought very much, even though she knew, before they even left the table, where it was going to lead.

Chapter Thirty-one

Day seventeen

The morning begins with chaos. The sound of a drill. Then silence. Then the front door banging as it swings so wide it hits the wall.

Alice sits up, startled, arms pulling away from my body on the other side of the bars.

She lets out a holler of surprise, but says nothing.

I sit up now and see Mick reaching for her, scooping her in his arms and carrying her away from me.