“I need to go. I’m sorry, Charlie.” Lane knew the apology wasn’t enough, but it was impossible to say anything else over the sob trying to scratch its way out of her throat. Before Charlie could react, Lane started for the street and crossed it, leaving not only her father and the ugly truth of her past behind but also Charlie.

Charlie’s muscles tightened. He ran his hand over his head again. Running into Lane in her distraught state had him on edge. Her lack of explanation and quick escape consumed his thoughts most of the afternoon.

Until now.

An eerie quiet settled over the sheriff’s office. It was bad enough a murder had taken place in their town, but it was unthinkable to realize a neighbor or best friend might be involved.

“The license plate number on the car in the video is registered to Jolene’s father, but the car is insured under Jolene’s name.” Charlie handed Sheriff Huggins a file.

“What are these?”

“Screenshots of Twitter posts made by Jolene and her friend Annabeth Mendoza the week before Sydney’s disappearance and death. The last sheets are the postings the two girls made after the discovery of Sydney’s body.”

Sheriff Huggins’s face grew grimmer the further he read. “‘I thought we were best friends, but you go behind my back. How dare you. Betrayal is worse than a stab in the back. Favorite Shakespeare play Julius Caesar. Time doesn’t heal all wounds.’” Sheriff Huggins adjusted the reading glasses on his nose. “Jolene Carson posted these?”

“Yes, you can see her name in the corner of each post, along with a time and date stamp. They were all posted before Sydney was killed, but there’s one posted the day before Lane discovered her body.”

“‘You can never take it back.’” Sheriff Huggins turned to the last sheet. “‘Rest in peace, Sydney. My heart is broken, but I know our friendship will last forever. Worst day ever.’ These ones are recent.”

“Sir.” Deputy Wilson tapped on the door. “Jolene Carson and her mother are here.”

“Escort them to the interrogation room.” Sheriff Huggins’s gray eyes clouded into a murky mess of determination, dread, and disbelief. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said.

“Let’s find out the truth.”

Would Jolene tell the truth this time? The young girl, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, walked stiffly down the hall. More clothes than the last time. Her mother, however, looked like she was ready for a date in her tight blazer, skinny jeans, and very tall heels.

“I hope there’s a good reason why I had to take Jo out of school in the middle of the day. I thought he”—Jolene’s mom lifted her chin toward Charlie—“already asked all the questions.”