“I know.” I was quick to reassure her. “That’s why he’s staying in the car.”

Molly’s expression slipped into a scowl, but she stepped aside. Opening the screen door, I followed her inside the dark living room.

“Is this your parents’ house?” My eyes scanned the many pictures lining the walls and the well-worn furniture.

“Yes.” She stalked into the living room and picked up a remote. Turning the TV off, she tossed the remote onto the couch beside her. “They’re at work.”

“It’s nice.”

She smirked. “Says the girl who’s from Red Hill.”

The jab at the stretch of road my parents lived on wasn’t missed. I sat in a chair, crossing my ankles. “Okay. I’m glad you wanted to see me.”

Molly didn’t sit, but stood only a few feet from me. “Are you really?”

“Yes.”

She laughed harshly. “I somehow doubt that considering our last conversation and the fact you’ve spent a good nine months or so ignoring me.”

Okay. This was not going to be easy. “I’m not a big fan of reading emails from people I don’t know after being in high school and getting bombarded with hate mail. And there’s the fact that you sent me a ton of not too pleasant messages.”

Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin. “You know why I sent you those messages.”

“Because I didn’t respond in the beginning and because you blame me.” When she didn’t say anything, I leaned forward. “I wasn’t lying when I said I knew nothing about you until I spoke to my cousin in January of this year. I didn’t check the first emails. That’s the truth.”

She pressed her lips together. “So you’re still sticking with the ‘not a lying whore’ story?”

I exhaled through my nose as I stared up at her. Anger pricked at my skin, but like with my mother the day before, I kept my cool. “Like I told you on the phone, I hadn’t lied to the police.”

“Then why did you drop the charges?” she demanded.

“It’s a long story.”

She spread her arms out. “Obviously I have time. Tell me.”

Her demanding tone was making it a struggle not to be bitchy back. Keeping my voice level, I told Molly everything about that Halloween night and the days afterward. For the most part, her expression remained unyielding and as unforgiving as a seasoned cop. The only crack in the exterior was when I told her what Blaine had done. I didn’t have to ask her to know that it was the same.  When I was finished, she turned away, shoulders bowed but spine straight.

“I’m not allowed to tell anyone this, but I needed to tell you.”

“Did you tell your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

She kept her back to me, silent.