Jack took a moment to process what I’d said. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nodded.

I turned around to look at the balcony doors once more. I could feel her presence, the push and pull between us, our invisible tether.

“Is she out there?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. I should go—I should say something.” I started to head back there but he caught me by the wrist.

“Let me talk to her for you.” Maybe he saw the dread on my face, or maybe I just looked completely exhausted. “You should go home, get some sleep. I’ll tell her myself that I’m not going to the cops. And who knows, maybe it’s better if I talk to her alone.”

I hesitated.

“Go home, Remy. You look like you’re about to keel over.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead for the last time, though I didn’t know it then.

“Okay,” I said, pulling on my shoes. I was exhausted. And maybe if they talked to each other, they’d hash it out.

“Hey,” he said before I left. “It’s going to be okay.”

I nodded and lingered for a moment before finally leaving. I believed him.

Standing at my car, I looked back at the Pink Mansion. Without any lights on, it looked haunted, abandoned. The house had fallen into disrepair in the year Elise and her father had lived there—the hedges untrimmed, the grass patchy and overgrown with weeds, the shutters crooked. A wave of sadness hit me at how time and neglect had turned what was once beautiful into something ugly and heartbreaking.

Getting in, I started the car, foot on the brake, ready to go when I heard it.

Not gunshots, like I later recalled, but the two of them yelling. I ran back, the car door left wide open, my keys forgotten in the ignition.

I hadn’t fallen asleep in my car. I’d never fallen asleep at all.

“How dare you come to my house and tell me what to do,” I heard Elise say as I reached the door, my hand hovering over the handle, frozen by the anger in her voice.

“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m offering you a choice,” Jack said.

Elise scoffed. “It’s not a choice, it’s an ultimatum.” My palm rested against the door, but I stood still, unable to move. It felt like all the times I’d taken shelter in closets, hiding from whatever storm was raging out there.

“It’s what Remy wants,” Jack said simply.

“No, it’s not,” Elise said. “She would never want that. She would never do that to me. You’re lying.” Her voice rose dangerously.

“I’m not.” Jack sounded frustrated. “Look, I don’t care if you believe me or not. Let’s just leave Remy out of it. This is what I’m offering. Leave us alone and I won’t go to the police and tell them you committed arson.”

“I didn’t commit arson!” she screamed. “What is this, some kind of power play?”

He held firm. “No.”

“Don’t lie. You’re enjoying this, having something to lord over me. It has nothing to do with Remy. You don’t care about her.”