“I’m going to give you a chance now, Remy,” Detective Ward says. “I’m going to give you a chance to change your statement.”
Vera cuts in. “I need a moment with Remy. Alone.”
“No,” I say. “It’s okay. I don’t want to change my statement. I was there, and Elise only said that I wasn’t because she thinks she’s protecting me.” Elise is telling the truth—I wasn’t there—but the only way I can save her now is if Ward believes that I was there.
“And what, exactly, is she protecting you from?” Detective Ward says, an edge to her voice now, her impatience showing again, that flash of teeth.
“Nothing,” I say, voice strong all of a sudden, strong enough to surprise even me. “She thinks she’s protecting me. She’s worried I’ll get into trouble, she’s—” I break off. “She does this. A lot.”
“Lie?” Detective Ward asks, lifting her pen to make a note.
“No!” I need her to see Elise like I do, but I don’t know how to make her understand. We stare at each other, eyes locked. I feel like I’m in the fight of my life—no, the fight for my life. For Elise’s life.
I can’t lose her too.
Heart racing, I manage to hold her gaze until she breaks eye contact. My head is pounding, but this small victory gives me strength.
“Let’s go over it again,” Detective Ward says, scanning her notes. “One more time, from the top. What were you doing before you and Elise went to her house?”
The question surprises me. I haven’t thought of anything but the moments surrounding Jack’s death. “I think we had dinner.”
“Where?”
“I’m not sure. Panera, maybe?” I say, and that’s the truth. Everything about yesterday feels out of focus, my memories cloudy and fragmented. Where we ate dinner. The 9-1-1 call I made. But some moments are so clear I can close my eyes and I’m there again. Elise’s comforting hand on my shoulder. Jack pressing a kiss to my forehead. The gunshots.
That gun, that fucking gun. Jack would still be alive if we’d never stumbled across it. Yes, Elise thought she saw her father, and yes, she and Jack were arguing over the pranks. But without the gun, none of this would be happening. The three of us, we’d be in school today. I’d be taking that physics test, but then I’d get to see Jack at lunch. And after, we’d go to the lake.
No matter how bad things got, we would’ve all survived if it weren’t for that revolver.
“You’re not sure?” Ward asks. Her voice jolts me back to reality, to the place where I’ve lost Jack. Where I might lose Elise too.
“No, I’m sorry,” I say, and I can tell she believes me. I have no reason to lie about that. My memories are shards of a broken vase that I’m trying to piece back together.
“And before dinner?”
“I was with Jack that morning.” He met me at the lake and we sat by the water, dipping our feet in. I was mad at Elise about the final prank we pulled the night before. If I close my eyes, I can still feel Jack’s arm around my shoulders, heavy and warm. A safe harbor.
“Doing what?” she asks, leaning toward me, pen positioned over paper.
“Just hanging out.” The tears fall quickly. I miss him so much that I shake with longing. My body still remembers his touch, still hears his voice, still misses him. I can’t imagine feeling that way about anyone else again. I can’t imagine anyone in his place.
I don’t know what’s worse—losing him entirely or this tortuous longing. I already fear the day I wake up unable to remember the sound of his voice, or the way we held hands, mine in front of his.
Detective Ward pauses her questioning about the timeline of that awful day. Instead she says, “Tell me about Jack.”