“Kane,” I say. “How can you think I would do something like that?”

He closes his eyes, then opens them, as if he’s having trouble believing this isn’t a dream. “What?”

“You don’t understand. After I spoke with you…Declan came to my house. He told me he’d made a mistake. He told me he wanted to be with me. And we kissed, and he…” I heave a sob. “He went home. And I was so happy.”

He stares at me. When he speaks, his voice quavers. “I don’t…”

“I loved him, Kane. I’ve never loved anyone like I loved him. I could never do that.” I catch his eyes. “Were you…were you trying to be my Gatsby? Protecting me, the way he protected Daisy?”

He’s beyond confused now. About the book, about what I’m telling him. All this time, he’d believed it was me. That I’d killed Declan. “Yeah.” His eyes trail to the ground. “But I thought…”

“When he left, he told me that Luisa was coming over, and he planned to end things with her.”

He blinks. “Luisa?”

I nod. “She did this. My God. She killed him.”

Kane is still standing there, like a statue. As if he can’t get it through his head. But it all makes complete sense to me. Emotion is bubbling in my heart, and something I’d said a long time ago. I’ll prove it, if it’s the last thing I do. She’ll see.

I grab hold of the trophy and take a step toward the door.

Kane stands. His face is stricken with alarm, eyes wide and wild. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“We have to tell someone. Nina’s dad. She can’t be allowed to—”

He crosses the room in three strides and grabs the trophy. “No. Hold on. You can’t do that, because… I mean, it’s been a year. More than a year.” His mouth moves, but nothing comes out for a moment, as if he’s tallying the implications of this in his head. “And hell, Hailey. If you tell them, I’m going to get screwed. Wouldn’t I be an accessory, because I covered it up?”

“But we can’t just let it go!” I shout, horrified at the suggestion. “She needs to pay. She killed him, Kane.”

He takes the trophy and sets it down. “Hailey. Can we please sleep on this?”

“You think I can get any sleep now?”

“Please,” he says, clamping his hand over my arm, so hard and desperate that I couldn’t move if I wanted to. “Tomorrow. I’ll go with you tomorrow, if you want. Think of what Declan would do.”

Declan? I have no doubt. He’d wait. He always did things so carefully. So thoughtfully. Reluctantly, I nod.