Right now she had to lie down. She climbed the stairs, each step heavier than the last. She reached her bedroom, eyeing the king-sized mattress longingly. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and throw the covers over her head, but she reeked, her body covered in a thin layer of dirt, sand, and sweat. Becca made it to the bathroom, stripped naked, and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water soak her body.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the dead girl on the beach. Who was she? Who killed her and why? Was it the tattooed man he mentioned? Or the evil old broad? And if so, how were they all connected to Nate and Ash?

Becca stood in the shower for so long, the water turned cold. She finally climbed out and dried off, pulling on a pair of old jogging pants and a faded LAPD T-shirt. She sank down onto the bed, staring at the framed picture on her nightstand, the Disneyland selfie Becca and Ash took, both wearing Mickey Mouse ears and oversized grins.

Becca closed her eyes. What if Ash was dead? Her eyes popped open. Don’t do that. Don’t let those terrible thoughts sneak in. She heard footsteps on the landing.

“What do you want, Chris?” she said, recognizing his footsteps. He lingered awkwardly in the doorway.

“I didn’t want to leave you. Not like this,” he said.

“It’s fine. We’re fine. Please just go,” she said.

“Becs, before you start spinning all sorts of terrible scenarios, remember Ash has all of us on her side. You’ve never given up on her. You can’t start now.”

His words triggered something deep inside her. She’d tried to keep it together, but the dam finally broke. Becca sobbed, the pain of this day, the magnitude of loss, the fear of the unknown pouring from her.

“Becca,” Christian said softly.

“Please go,” she pleaded through her tears.

“Becca, you will get through this. I promise you. You’re so much stronger than you even realize,” he said, moving over to her. He said that so many times, and then he violated her trust and walked away. She wanted to shout at him, to scream, Get out, but he was here now.

Christian sank down onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her. They always fit together, and no matter how much time passed, she knew they always would. It wasn’t right that he was here in her room, on her bed, but she let him hold her. She cried until there were no more tears, the two of them lying together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I should have told you,” she whispered.

“Yes, you should have. But I should’ve told you…”

“Told me what?