But Rountree came over to the desk and tapped her watch again, this time more dramatically. And there was no way to say or ask anything with any presumption of privacy, if that presumption had even existed in the first place. So I told Amanda good-bye and hung up, and then followed Rountree back to the room where I was to be questioned.

And the police devoted hours to questioning me. To say it was unpleasant would be the understatement of the century. In order to explain to them how I ended up in that basement with Aaron and Blake, I naturally had to go back to college and start the story there. And then it continued all the way up until the events of the previous twenty-four hours, including how I had ended up in Jennifer’s house the night she was killed, the removal of her phone, the withholding of those details from Rountree the first time she came to the house.

All of it.

Rountree came and went. Sometimes I sat for long stretches by myself, and during those times, I replayed the events of the past day, especially everything that happened in that basement in Hilldale Estates. I’d spent the past six years of my life burying and secretly making amends for something I hadn’t played as large a role in as I’d always thought. Blake had been driving that night. And he’d not only lied to me about it, but he’d used it to coerce me into going into Jennifer’s house.

But knowing those things brought me no great relief.

Blake, someone I once considered a close friend, had lied to me for years.

And setting aside how much I feared exposure at his hands, I had made the choice to give in and go along with entering Jennifer’s house the previous night. I shouldered the blame for that. I might face criminal charges for it. In fact, I couldn’t see how I wouldn’t.

What I’d thought while talking to Amanda was true—it was much better to have it all out in the open.

But my life would never be the same afterward. I’d never be looked at the same, and I wouldn’t be the same. The uncertainty surrounding that scared me more than any criminal charge that might have been coming.

Everything felt new and out of control. No social media post or Instagram filter could put the right shine on my past decisions.

Shortly before midnight, Rountree returned for the final time. She told me we were just about finished, and I’d be able to return home under certain conditions.

“You can’t leave town,” she said. “And if we call you because we have more questions, we need you to jump. And I mean really jump.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I just want to spend time with my family again.”