“I’m okay.” The voice sounded faint and muffled, but I heard it. She spoke again a moment later with more volume. “I’m really fine. We just had a fight. And it’s okay. Really. You can leave. Thank you.”

I hesitated. I thought about calling anyway. I didn’t see the woman. I didn’t lay eyes on her and know she was okay.

Maybe my illusions about them influenced me. Maybe I just felt like I’d stepped into the home of a stranger, and it wasn’t my place to insert myself into their problems, even though adrenaline blasted through me, making my hands and legs shake.

Maybe I was just wrong.

But I gave Grendel’s leash a gentle tug, and the two of us turned around and walked out of the house.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CONNOR

PRESENT

“So you didn’t call the police?” Bowman asks.

I don’t say the words. I don’t want to admit it.

I’m embarrassed.

Bowman goes on when she sees I’m not saying anything. “When Sophia was murdered, we looked into everything about her marriage. I can answer my own question—no one ever called nine-one-one and reported anything. There were no charges of domestic violence or even a domestic disturbance. No assaults or fights.”

She pauses, studies me. Gives me a chance to say anything, which I don’t.

“And we talked to all the neighbors. Sophia and Zachary lived there for a couple of years before the murder, and in all that time, the neighbors never heard anything. No arguments even. And you know how volatile young relationships can be.”

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t happen,” I say. “It sounded like he cheated on Sophia. They seemed to be discussing another woman.”

“But you don’t know. And you didn’t call.”

“If you’re thinking of a way to make me feel worse, I’m not sure that’s possible. Is Zachary a suspect? Has he been cleared?”

“It’s an open case. Until we make an arrest, I consider everyone a possibility.”

“But he’s the husband. Isn’t he more of a possibility?”

Bowman doesn’t say anything else.

More than anyone, I know how things can change in a moment. I know how easy it is to start with a horrific event and then trace a chain of choices backward. If this didn’t happen . . . If I’d done this instead of that . . . If I could do everything all over again . . .

But the universe refuses to grant us do-overs. Those happen only in romantic comedies in which the main character gets hit on the head and wakes up back in the past and gets a second chance to win the heart of the girl he overlooked in high school.

They don’t happen in real life.