I push forward the bag I put the shoes in. It’s just a messenger bag, hardly a sterile evidence bag, but they might still be able to get fingerprints off the shoes.

“They’re her shoes—Bella’s shoes. The ones she was wearing the night she died.”

He looks at me but doesn’t open the bag.

“I found them in the house—Dean House.”

“You’ve been in the house?” He frowns. “The house—the grounds—that’s a crime scene.”

“I’m sorry, but I thought…I thought if I went there I might remember something. But when I went in, Bella’s shoes were there, lined up side by side, left there for me to find.”

“By who?”

“By whoever killed Bella.” My voice rises and Detective Levinson sits back in his chair, his face going blank.

“Did you see anyone else there?”

“No. But there’s something else. There was a suitcase. It belonged…it must have belonged to Greg Lewis. And I looked inside and there was a photograph, a school photo of Bella’s class when she was sixteen or seventeen. And Nicole Wallace is in the photo as well. Why would he have had that photo?”

Detective Levinson leans back, rubs a hand across his bald head.

“And I got these texts…” I get my phone out but my voice dies as I open my messages. The texts aren’t there. I scroll up and down but they’re not bloody there. Someone must have taken my phone and deleted them. It has to have been Jack or Lena. My heart thumps. Or Sean or Max. Any one of them could have spied on me tapping in my passcode.

“Did you tell anyone else you were going to the house?”

“No, but there were other, new, footprints in the dust. They were…” My voice trails off and I go cold. They were small, I was going to say. A small foot, clean in the dust next to my prints. I’ve had so many of these blank moments now, these fugues where time passes, where I’m not asleep but I’m not awake either. Black holes in my memory. Those footprints, that other path of prints, so new—were they mine?

The other day, when I thought I’d been sleepwalking, talking to Bella in the woods, seeing lights at the window of Dean House…did I actually go inside? Did I find the shoes somewhere else and put them in the house? I was in the woods, with Bella, and I thought it was a dream. Oh God, what else have I been doing in my sleep? Were those text messages even real?

I shake my head. I didn’t…I couldn’t. “Will you check? Will you look?”