“Melissa’s my friend,” Imani said. “And if Tonya was sleeping with Nate, she shouldn’t be here.”

Philip wrapped a towel around himself and then grabbed one for her. He tossed hers over the glass shower wall. “We don’t know anything, and we need the money. So there’s no need for you to be running around playing amateur detective. Let the police do their jobs. We have enough problems.”

Philip dropped his voice as he said it, the head of the household delivering the final word.

Imani appreciated it about as much as Vivienne when she heard it. But she was too old to say something only to have the last word. Moreover, her husband was right. They did have enough problems.

And she’d be damned if Tonya became one of them.

CHAPTER THIRTY

MELISSA

The sound of a dozen metal pins snapping into place stopped her banging. For a moment, Melissa gripped the metal paper towel dispenser, wielding the rod like a too-short, too-thin billy club that, at best, would add a few ounces of force to a feeble punch before being knocked out of her hand. She was too out of shape to counter It effectively. Juice cleansing off the quarantine pounds had cut her bodyweight while failing to build any muscle. Outrunning anyone would be impossible, let alone fighting.

But she needed to do something. The noises meant there were now two of them in the darkness. Her and It. And It was stronger.

Melissa placed the rod beside the toilet bowl. The metal pinged as the rod made contact with the ground. Quickly, she flushed to make the sound appear related to the mechanics of using the facilities.

“You need to tell them what really happened.” Its voice echoed in the other room, commanding but also pleading, struggling to strike a balance between an order and a request.

Melissa emerged from the stall into the main room. The little light emanating from behind her revealed Its outline as well as a long stick in Its hand. She heard the wet slap of soaked fabric hitting the floor.

Her urine, Melissa thought. It was mopping up her mess.

For a moment, she felt a rush of gratitude. It was not going to leave the smell to attract vermin. Maybe, deep down, part of It was still human. Perhaps It cared about her. She could appeal to that.

“I’m not sure I know what happened,” Melissa said.

In the darkness, her trembling voice became tangible, standing in for her physical presence. Part of Melissa wanted to pull it back. If she stood out of the bathroom light and didn’t speak, she was as good as invisible.