“Oh, now you're being reasonable.” I shook my head. “What did it? Getting in the backseat of a cop car?”
She gestured vaguely at me. “Actually, it was when you started doing that thing with your face.”
“What thing with my face?”
“You know, that panicked-but-trying-to-look-cool thing. Your left eye twitches when you do it.”
I touched my eye reflexively. “My eye does not twitch.”
“It's twitching right now.”
“That's not a twitch, that's…strategic blinking.”
The door creaked open, and Lilah stepped back into the room, a new file tucked under her arm and something unreadable on her face. She closed the door behind her with a soft click and scanned both of us, as if weighing what version of herself to bring into the room—friend, officer, or something in between. She rubbed the back of her neck and finally dropped the file on the table.
“You were right,” she said. “Lauren Hutchinson, now Lauren Boone, used to live at Sawyer’s address.”
Ellie’s head snapped up, and Lilah nodded once. Ellie tensed beside me.
“She’s not pressing charges,” Lilah said. “But there’s a condition.”
Ellie finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “What kind of condition?”
“That you leave her alone.”
Ellie flinched and straightened her spine.
“She said she didn’t want to cause trouble,” Lilah continued. “She asked the department to let it go, but she made it clear she doesn’t want to be contacted again.”
Ellie nodded slowly. “I understand.”
I could see the truth written all over her face. The questions that wouldn’t get answers. The war still playing out behind her eyes. She wanted more. A name. A reason. A crack in the silence that hadn’t broken in years. Something.
Lilah finally sat down across from us, folding her hands on the table.
“I know you meant well,” she said, softer. “But this woman has been through hell. She’s not hiding, she’s healing. There’s a difference.”
Ellie looked down at her hands. “We weren’t trying to hurt her.”
“I know.” Lilah’s expression shifted. “But even good intentions can leave bruises.”
Sawyer cleared his throat. “So…what now?”
“You’re free to go,” Lilah said, standing. “No charges. No paperwork. Just…don’t make me have this conversation with you again.”
Ellie gave a small nod. Lilah made it halfway to the door before pausing. Her hand rested on the knob, fingers tense, as she glanced back over her shoulder.
“Whatever you found in that journal? Leave it there. Let it go. Trust me. Chasing answers doesn’t always set you free.” And then, she was gone.
The door shut, and just like that, the stillness swallowed the room whole. We sat in it for a while, not speaking.
Ellie leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. Her voice was almost too quiet to hear. “We found her.”
“Yeah.”
“But it didn’t help.”
I didn’t have an answer, because it was true. I stood and reached for her hand. She hesitated for half a second before lacing her fingers with mine and rising to her feet. We walked toward the door in silence.
