I swallowed a touch of wine, my stomach flip-flopping. ‘Maybe we should just tell them about that,’ I said, my eyes again searching for Sam. ‘They know I lied, but what we did is nothing compared to what Sam did. Maybe they’ll finally believe me if I tell them.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Vera said, her hand recoiling instantly from mine. ‘I’m not going to throw away my life, too. I’ve already given up way too much.’

She was right, I knew that. I couldn’t risk opening myself up to closer inquiry, either, only the way she dismissed it was so … callous.

‘Let’s forget about all that, okay? Let’s pretend you never said a word.’ She grabbed my hand again and squeezed it so hard it almost hurt, then quickly let it go. ‘Let’s just have one good night. I’m begging you.’

I did my best to give her what she wanted.

I barely touched my wine, taking only the most cautious of sips, but I didn’t object when she ordered another.

She dragged me to the jukebox, and after tossing her things onto a chair in the corner, she picked out songs like it was her job.

I couldn’t pretend so easily. I found myself constantly looking around, waiting for Sam Alby, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t show up tonight, that McKnight had taken me seriously, that Rachel had told him what she knew and that the cops had properly taken Sam in this time, that all of this would be over soon. And that Davis, for his part, would do what he said he would – finally let me go.

Vera drained her next glass almost as quickly, and when she wasn’t looking, I grabbed her car keys, nestled in the top of her handbag, and put them in my pocket so she wouldn’t do anything stupid like try to drive home.

She was playing Dinah Washington, swaying back and forth, almost like she was dancing with the jukebox, when a guy my age sidled up to her – someone up from the city, most likely. With wide brown eyes, he took Vera in, top to bottom. ‘Nice choice,’ he said to her.

She flipped around, startled, and when her eyes caught him, they sharpened. ‘I’m just trying to have a night with my friend,’ she said tightly.

The guy smiled – he wasn’t giving up yet. ‘You shouldn’t play such good music, then, if you don’t want anyone to talk to you.’

Her lips pressed together.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘We’re just –’

‘Mourning my dead husband,’ Vera snapped.

‘Jesus,’ the guy said. ‘I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just making –’

‘Well, you did. Come on, Lucy.’ She grabbed my hand and dragged me away, past the pool table, toward the next room.