“The prosecution targets you next. Charges you with providing false testimony. Maybe conspiracy to commit murder. If the judge thinks you were involved in the planning of Mrs. Holloway’s death, you could be reuniting with your friend sooner than you think. You two could be spending a lot of time together at that detention center.”

Jack’s stomach dipped. If she was locked up beside Belle, she’d never be able to figure out what had really happened to Raven’s stepmother. “Can I think about it?” she asked timidly. It was the first time her voice had wavered since she’d entered the station. The first time she’d been uncertain her stories would keep her out of trouble, protect her, allow her to sleep at night.

Detective Medina nodded, his gaze still kind. Chin still resting on his hands. “Things are going to move quickly,” he warned. “Evelyn was loved by a lot of people, and Rose Hollow hasn’t seen a crime like this in—”

“Four years,” Jack muttered, thinking of Raven’s mother. His real mother, the one who’d loved him.

“The trial could be set in a couple of weeks,” the detective went on. “And unless you can bring me a suspect who hated Evelyn Holloway and wanted to ruin Belladonna’s life—”

“I can.” Jack sat bolt upright. Blood rushed through her ears. Her battered heart sprang to life. All this time, the answer had been right in front of her. “I have to go.” She pushed out of her chair. “I’ll be in touch within the next couple of days, all right? I don’t know how long it’ll take to…”

Get to her, Jack thought, her mind racing a mile a minute. There was someone who hated Evelyn Holloway, and that person would’ve had no trouble at all dragging Belle’s name through the dirt. Unfortunately, that person had been locked in a gated facility almost as long as Raven had been locked in a boarding school on the other side of the country.

Could she have broken out?

“I’ll have answers for you soon,” Jack promised, buttoning her coat. Winter had ended, but an icy chill still drifted through the air, settling on her limbs. Encircling her throat. “I just need to talk to someone first.”

“Say hello to Raven for me,” the detective said, mistaking the reason for her exit. Raven was coming home. She needed to see him, desperately, but there was someone else she needed to see first.

“I’m not going to see Raven,” Jack said, striding to the door. She was going to see the girl who’d stopped eating after Raven had left town. The girl whose own mother had dropped her off at a wellness facility, three months later, and had never come back for her.

Lily Holloway, Raven’s stepsister.