The room is small and windowless. A desk, fluorescent lights, a manila folder. Lingering smells of sweat and instant coffee.
You love it. All of it. A room where the air doesn’t belong to him.
“Sit,” the cop says.
You sit.
“I need to tell you,” you say, and he interrupts.
“What happened out there?” he wants to know. “Who are you? How do you know Aidan?”
You take a breath. Your skin prickles. I’m trying, you want to say. I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been sitting on this for five years and now it’s time and you have to listen to me.
You have to believe me.
Promise you’ll believe me, you want to say. Promise that after I tell you this, it will all be over.
The way he said his name just now. The way he apologized as he put him in handcuffs. I’m so sorry, Aidan. Buddies. Two men who have known each other for a while.
Aidan Thomas? the young cop will say on TV. He was just a very nice guy. The type of person everyone likes. Polite. If your car broke down, he was there with jumper cables. We never had any issues with him. He got along with everybody.
You take a gulp of stale air. Listen, you want to say. Let’s make a deal. I will give you the case of a century. I will change your life, as long as you change mine.
Look at him. The words that follow are words you need to say with your back straight, your head held high. No hesitation. You have waited five years for this. For a room devoid of his presence, for a pair of ears to listen, for your voice in the middle of it all.
“Officer,” you start. Your voice thick like syrup, your jaw working its way heavily through each syllable.
You have to say it.
Remember it. The sound, the feeling of it in your mouth.
Your name.
Illicit, like a curse word.
For five years, you have not spoken it.
Even thinking it felt wrong. In the shed. Anytime he was around. You worried he might hear the syllables in your head. That he would feel your deception, a part of yourself kept out of his reach.
“My name,” you say. Start over. You can’t fuck it up.
It has to be perfect.
When you say these words, you have to give them the power to unlock doors and keep them open forever.
“Officer,” you say again, and this time you don’t stop. “My name is May Mitchell.”