Because surely if I were really a #babykiller—even through prenatal neglect—the last thing I’d do is go on television and talk about my victim’s candlelight vigil. Right?

“Fine,” I say at last. “Five minutes. And I’ll only talk about the vigil.”

Chapter Fourteen

FOURTEEN

“Holy crap,” Amira whispers as we step onto the stone path.

The park is packed.

These little white stone paths form the spokes of a wheel, the hub of which is a beautiful gazebo at the center of the park. It’s basically the prettiest thing in Clifford. But I can’t even see it tonight. All I see is an ocean of people milling in the light from several streetlamps, because Sophia and her Key Club army are still handing out the donated candles.

Amira and I had to park behind the yogurt shop four blocks away, because every single lot anywhere near the park is packed. Both sides of the street are lined in cars.

At the intersection a block down, I can see Doug Chalmers’s familiar silhouette, dancing with blue light from the strobe on top of his cop car while he directs traffic.

“You did this,” Amira whispers.

“No way. I’m not taking the blame for this. This is you and Sophia. The vigil was her idea. You two did most of the work organizing it.”

I’m not even sure why I came. My presence does nothing for Lullaby Doe. But unlike all these people, I feel like I actually met her. Like I owe her something, because of that one moment when it was just the two of us, before I went looking for help. Before I brought this notoriety down upon Clifford like a plague of locusts.

That’s why I’m here.

Or maybe I’m drawn to the spectacle just like everyone else.

“It’s your interview,” Amira insists. And she may actually be right. WBBJ licensed it to one of the national networks—or however that works—and according to Sophia, several million people saw me on the news last night.

The very thought makes my chest feel like it’s being compressed in some kind of vise.

I didn’t watch. I couldn’t. Audrey Taylor didn’t stick to my conditions. After I talked about the vigil, she asked me what it was like to find Lullaby Doe lying there on the locker room floor, and despite having no intention at all of talking about that on television, with the camera’s red light blinking at me—with the entire Key Club and my little sister staring at me from behind the lights aimed at me—I didn’t know how to gracefully decline to answer.