But then she heard it again—the shrilling screams as they vibrated through her body. It was just off the trail, she was so close, and as she pushed back the brush between her and the sound, a clearing opened up. But she wasn’t in the woods anymore, she was in the hallway of her childhood home, staring into the living room, yet again. Her mother’s lifeless body on the ground. Her father standing over her. But this time he didn’t even notice Tara at all.

His eyes were fixated on the corner of the room. He was whispering something.

“Stay there,” he whispered as he held his finger to his lips, and then his head turned to Tara.

Tara jumped upright in bed, her body soaked in sweat. It was just a nightmare, she told herself as she realized that she was in her hotel room. She steadied her breathing. She had had many nightmares before, replaying the event in her childhood, but that one was different. Her father had never spoken to the corner of the room, he had never raised his finger to his lips, yet it gave Tara a strange feeling of déjà vu.

Tara shook off the thought. That would mean—no. That isn’t true, she told herself, and she continued to tell herself that over and over again as she coaxed herself back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty Two

Tara opened her eyes to her phone almost vibrating off the nightstand. She reached for it and turned off her alarm. It was seven AM—less than four hours of sleep last night and she could feel it.

She sat upright knowing that she couldn’t trust herself lying down for a second longer. The morning sun filtered through the closed curtains and Tara squinted her heavy eyes as she surveyed the room around her. Her laptop still sat open on the bed. It reminded her that she fell asleep while searching last night, and then she remembered the nightmare.

It was probably the most vivid—and strangest—nightmare she had yet, and she had no idea what it could mean. It couldn’t have been a memory. She would’ve remembered something like that, so she tucked the nightmare away in her mind as a warped distortion of her subconscious.

Tara’s phone rang and she reached for it and read the caller ID—Warren. She picked up.

“Good morning,” he echoed with little enthusiasm. Tara could already hear it in his voice that he, too, had a sleepless night. “So, I’m thinking we should grab some breakfast now and decide what our next steps should be. Can you meet me in fifteen?”

Tara agreed and they hung up, her mind now pulled back onto the case. She knew their next steps would be crucial, and the case needed all her attention right now.

***

Fifteen minutes later Tara walked into the cafeteria. She scanned the room. Round tables were placed throughout, with booths lining the walls. The room was almost empty except for three tables and she spotted Warren almost immediately. He sat at a table in the far back corner, his eyes fixated on the cup of coffee in front of him as if studying something within it.