“There she is!” someone calls out. Behind me, the gates of hell give way, and the crowd surges forth. I swear, torchlight casts shadows in the shapes of pitchforks on the ground ahead of me.

Amira and I race from the park into the street, and I can’t tell if people are actually following us, or if those footsteps are the sound of my demons chasing me. In the end, it doesn’t matter.

“Through here!” Amira pulls me into an alley, and we keep running, my shoes pounding the cracked pavement, my lungs burning with every breath.

I’m crying, and I don’t even know when that started.

In the parking lot behind the yogurt shop, we stumble to a halt next to my car, bent over to catch our breath. There’s no one else here, but I can hear the roar of chaos still echoing from the park.

I hope my mom’s okay.

I hope Penn got Landry out before she saw any of that.

“Are you all right?” Amira asks, one hand on my shoulder, and even through a film of my own tears, I recognize the guilt on her face.

“No.” I stand up straight and swipe tears from my cheeks. “No, I am not okay. Threats from strangers online are one thing, but this has gone way, way too far.”

“I know. That was crazy.”

“I can’t take any more of this. You have to tell me the truth, Amira.”

“I …” She frowns. “What truth?”

“All of it! Did you sleep with my brother? Are you Lullaby Doe’s mother? Did I find your baby—my own niece—on the locker room floor?”

“What? No!” Amira looks around the parking lot, obviously worried, suddenly, that we aren’t really alone.

And that’s a valid fear, considering how many strangers with cameras are in town. How many of them have called my phone or chased me down the sidewalk.

“Then why do you suddenly want to be my friend again? Why did you get so involved with the funeral fundraising and planning the vigil? Why did you disappear from my life in the first place?”

“Because—” She bites off whatever she was going to say, and light from the only pole in this parking lot reflects on the tears standing in her eyes. “It’s complicated, Beckett.”

“How complicated can it possibly be?” I’m shouting now, and this wasn’t my plan. I was going to try to get to the truth without driving someone else from my life. But suddenly I have to know. “Is this because of you?” I throw one arm out in the direction of the park. Of the potentially violent mob we’ve just run from. “Are you the reason reporters keep calling my phone? The reason people are demanding my arrest and strangers are threatening to kill me?”

“No! It’s not my baby, Beckett!”