As she skims the file, I brace myself for the question she doesn’t ask: Why didn’t I tell anyone then?

I’ve failed Elise so many times, in so many ways. There’s so much I have to atone for.

Maybe Ward can see the devastation on my face because she closes the folder and sets it facedown on the table so I can’t see Elise’s name on it, but I catch it anyway.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” she says quietly. The words mean nothing to me—I know the truth—so I don’t bother responding.

“It’s not,” she says again, and all I can think is—isn’t it?

This is a question I’ve found myself circling in the three weeks since that night. If I’d said something when she first told me, then maybe Elise would’ve been safe. If I’d done something, then maybe we wouldn’t even be here today, if only, if only—

My mind comes up with a million reasons. Elise didn’t want anyone else to know. Elise had already tried getting help once. Elise had just turned seventeen and had only one year left.

I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t my story to tell. I have a million reasons and none of them are good enough.

Lurking behind all the excuses is the truth: Maybe it was just easier to do nothing. To think that Elise had it all under control. It was bad, but maybe it wasn’t that bad—bad enough to go to the police and risk everything. Risk no one believing her and angering her father further. Or the flip side, risk people believing her and then losing her to the foster system.

Maybe it was easier to imagine us as heroes-in-training, to tell myself that these were merely setbacks for Elise. This was the part of the movie where the hero got beaten up, where all hope was lost, the dark before the dawn. She’d take all of this pain and suffering and use it to get stronger, to get so strong she could take on the world.

Detective Ward looks like she’s about to say something else when there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” an officer says, waving a notepad at Detective Ward. “You told me to get you.”

“I’ll be right back,” Ward says to us. She leaves the door ajar and I can see the two of them talking on the other side of the hall. He’s pointing to something in his notes and she’s nodding along.

Vera takes the opportunity to see how I’m doing. I tell her I’m fine and tune her out, straining to hear what they’re saying in the hall. A million thoughts flood my mind. Is it Elise? Is she okay? Is it Jack’s mother? His cousin Evan? Are they here? My heart is beating so fast it’s going to explode. It feels like all of the air is being sucked out of the room. My hands fly to my throat as I gasp and choke.