Lila sat stiff and rigid in the stool on the other side of the counter, her hands clasped tightly on the countertop. She listened to my questions and gave her responses like she was being interviewed for a job, her face grave with nerves.

“I found a syringe back there once,” she said, her lip curled in disgust. “I was walking McKinley back there, you know, along the stream. And there it was. Cap off and everything. I’ve heard junkies frequent the place. That there are drug deals, maybe.”

“Oh.” I looked concerned. “Well, it could have washed up the creek. You never know. We haven’t substantiated anything about drug deals at the bar yet.”

“It’s so dangerous,” she said distantly. “I hate junkies. If you want to waste your life, don’t try to waste mine, too. I could have stepped on it and caught who knows what. Or the dog might have stepped on it. Or some kids playing in the—”

She caught herself. Looked at me, her eyes wide.

The foot, once again firmly in place.

“It’s…” I struggled for words, my face growing hot. “It’s fine, Lila.”

“Oh, no.” She put her hands to her mouth. “I didn’t mean—”

“I get it.” I smiled. “It must be awkward.”

“So awkward,” she sighed with relief, leaned forward. “I don’t know how you stand it. It’s like a big fat elephant, following you around the room, everywhere you go! It’s like when someone’s got a huge scar down the middle of their face and you don’t know whether you should mention it or not. You know what I mean? I’m rambling now. I should stop. It’s just, I feel bad for you. I didn’t know who Amanda Pharrell was the other day or I’d have probably felt the same way when she came to question me. Her being a murderer—that’s even worse, isn’t it?”

I had no words.

“I guess that’s why you guys hang out, right?” She winced. “Safety in numbers. Everywhere you go, people know who you are. What happened. Or didn’t happen! I mean. Oh. I’m so sorry.”

I stood, folding my notebook shut. “Thanks for your time, Lila. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.” I tried to hold a smile as I made for the door. She walked me out, hanging her head the whole time in shame.

I stood in the street and looked up at the canopy, tried to breathe. I made a promise to myself that if I was going to do one thing that day, I was going to work on the investigation I was hired to without my past getting in my way. Without someone getting distracted by the huge scar down the middle of my face that no one knew whether or not they should mention. I trudged to the middle house in the row and knocked again, but again no one was home. I was exhausted by the time I reached the furthest property, a run-down house with a warped roof ticking in the heat of the day.