I take that little piece of knowledge and lock it away. If Brady tells them he went in my house, I’ll lie and say I forgot. Ammunition against Brady will never come from me.
“I told you, we left after that conversation. And it was just a stupid game. Not something we would ever actually do.”
“The timing is convenient.”
“That doesn’t make any of us guilty.”
Detective Morris stares me down, squinting the tiniest bit. Suddenly he stands, his chair scraping against the floor.
“You’re free to go.”
“So this is over?” My voice is a mixture of relief and hope.
“Unless there’s an autopsy and it shows something worth looking into, then yes, this is over.”
Quickly I stand and round the table. I want out of this place. I’m not guilty of anything, yet just by virtue of being here, it makes me wonder if I am.
The detective shoots out an arm, stopping me before I can scurry through the door.
“Don’t go around having any more conversations about who you’d like to kill and how you’d like to do it.”
“Okay,” I agree in a rush.
He steps aside and I hurry through the door, away from that small, brightly lit room and the intimidating man. I retrace my steps until I’m at the front, and when I don’t see Brady or Finn, I walk outside. It’s disorienting. I forgot it was nighttime.
Mrs. Sterling, Brady, and a man I don’t know stand in a tight circle a few feet away.
I stop. It doesn’t look like a conversation I’m meant to hear. My politeness doesn’t seem to matter, though, because Mrs. Sterling is upset and isn’t doing a good job keeping her volume down.
“Stop this right now, Brady,” she half-shrieks.
“They need help, Mom. What’s wrong with you?”
“You can’t save everybody, Brady.”
“You can’t leave them in there! They’re as much at fault as I am.” Brady shakes his head, disgusted, and catches sight of me.
He rushes to me, pulling me into his chest. He paws at my hair, pulling it in his relief, but I don’t mind the pain.
“Lennon,” he whispers my name into my hair, over and over. “Do you know about Ted?”
I nod against him. I haven’t had time to process the news. If last night hadn’t happened, Ted’s death would’ve saddened me. But now? I don’t know how I feel.
I adjust my head against Brady’s chest so I can peek at his mom. She’s talking to the man I don’t know, her gaze flickering to us, then back to the man. He says something to her, she nods tersely, and then the man walks past us, his shoes tapping loudly on the concrete. He’s wearing a suit. He must be their lawyer.
Brady’s mom walks farther away to a bench and sits down.
I pull back from Brady. “Is Finn still in there?”
“I think so. I saw him when they were taking me back, the door to the room he was sitting in was open. They waited for McNair to arrive, and—”
“Who’s McNair?”
“Sorry. He’s our family lawyer. He’s used to dealing with my sister.”
“Keep going about Finn,” I urge.
“McNair arrived, they asked me two questions, and I was released. But when I left, the door to the room I saw Finn in was closed.”
