After a moment I said, “I need you too.” What we were saying, together: love is to need and to be needed. Love is truest, strongest when you need each other, when you can’t live without each other. Anything less is ephemeral. Anything less risks heartbreak.

We needed each other. What we had was true love.

We were misfit toys who didn’t belong anywhere. And then, for the first time in our lives, we belonged somewhere. We belonged to someone, to each other. Home wasn’t a house. It wasn’t on a map. Home was a person and for me, that person was Elise. We were a little family of our own making, and I thought nothing could stand in the way of that. Back then, I never thought I’d want anything else.

MONDAY // AUGUST 28 // DAY 353

30.

As I piece our history together bit by bit, Detective Ward stares at me with piercing eyes. We are sharks trapped in a tank together, circling and circling. She listens to me talk about how I met Jack, about Elise’s anti-anti-prom party.

It’s so surreal, sharing all of it with a stranger. There are moments when I’m so lost in my memories that I almost forget where I am and why I’m here.

I almost forget that these memories of Jack are the only pieces of him I have left.

I almost forget that there won’t be any new memories with him because he is gone forever.

I almost forget that hours ago, I held him in my arms for the last time.

Almost.

I could live inside of our first memory at the lake forever. When the stars smiled down at us and everything was possible.

I linger on these memories with Detective Ward and she doesn’t cut me off or urge me on. If anything, she seems to soften the more she hears me talk about him.

But eventually I arrive at Elise’s call in the middle of the night, and everything that followed.

Tell me something true. I hear Jack’s voice in my head.

It grounds me. Give me something true, something real to hold on to.

The truth is I failed Elise. I shrank away from her when she needed me most.

Detective Ward twists her wedding band around her finger as she watches me. Behind her, the camera blinks, slow and steady. Vera sits quietly beside me, jotting down notes.

I relay every detail, every word from that night. Describe the bruise on Elise’s shoulder, the tears on her face. I sound tired, almost like the way Elise sounded when reciting some of the things her father had done to her over the years. Like I’m talking about someone else.

I desperately wish I was someone else, that none of this was happening.

It’s strange, talking about that night with someone. Acknowledging the truth. Saying the words out loud. Especially when I promised Elise I’d never, ever tell anyone.

Detective Ward picks up a folder and opens it up on her lap, but I can still read the label on the side: Elise Ferro. I know what she’s looking at. The things I’m sharing with her are details of a larger story she’s already aware of. It’s not a betrayal if she knew, is it?