We separate with a groan. I call for Lucy, but she doesn’t come, so I wind up at the front door with Willow. She side eyes me as I crouch next to my fluffball who has zero interest in her. Lucy sniffs and scratches at my computer bag like I have the motherlode of treats inside. At most, I have a sleeve of arrowroot cookies or a granola bar, both things she is generally disinterested in.
“What’d you find, Luce?”
I unzip the front pocket of the bag. I keep my computer cord and spare phone charger in there. But among the white wires is something bright pink. I breathe out.Huh.I take back everything I said about Lucy being a poor search dog, because here in my hand is Addie’s USB stick. I have a split second of joy that my dog is so smart before…
A gasp sounds next to me and I catch a flash of dark red hair, darker than Addie’s, more artificial. “It was you.”
Willow stares down at me. I know how it looks. The USB was in the front pocket of my bag and now it’s in my open palm. There’s a chain of actions that leads to this point, coupled withmy past and…I know how the dots connect. I also know they’re wrong. But I’m powerless to stop them.
“No, it wasn’t.” I straighten, but Willow’s a few inches shorter than Addie and it just looks like I’m trying to intimidate her. I take a step back. “I promise I didn’t take this. Maybe I just didn’t search hard enough. Addie might have dropped it in here on Wednesday.”
Willow laughs, ugly and incredulous. It makes goosebumps rise on my forearms.
“Are you serious? Do you know how that sounds?” She turns away from me. “People like you don’t change. Addie!”
Oh shit.
It’s all going to burn down around me, isn’t it?
Addie walks into the foyer like she would rather be anywhere else in the world. She crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head. Her eyes flick between me and Willow like we’ve orchestrated some major betrayal. I wait for the other shoe to drop when I should be the one getting ahead of this. I could claim I just found the stick, which isn’t wrong. It’s just not the story Willow is already weaving.
“What’s up?” Addie asks.
“I found out what happened to your research,” Willow says, then pauses dramatically. Addie blinks in confusion before her eyes snag on the bright pink. My fingers close around it because I can’t ever make anything better, not when I’ve been conditioned to run and hide and lie when things go wrong. “He took it.”
I haven’t done anything wrong this time, and yet, I’m resigned to Willow’s words.He took it. Who will believe I didn’t?
Addie’s chin wobbles. She walks toward me and holds her hand out for the stick. I drop it into her palm. I swallow. There’s a lump in my throat that won’t allow me to form words. I damn myself with every second I say nothing.
But I say nothing.
How fucking ironic I would memorize her for three episodes, then ruin everything.
“Zander.” Addie’s voice breaks on my name. Her eyes shift behind me, brows furrow. She reaches out and latches onto my forearm. “Come with me.”
She takes me out to the backyard, pushes me onto the patio, two hands against my chest. I stumble and catch myself by chance on her patio umbrella. She bites back a smirk as she slides the door closed behind her.
“Is she watching?” Addie whispers.
I don’t move. I squint into the house, trying to make it look like I’m mad at her. I nod.
“I thought so. Fight with me.”
“What?”
“You didn’t do this.” Addie speaks low and hurriedly. “I believe you didn’t do this. It has Willow written all over and, like, why would you even? What reason would you have to take Camp X research when you’re working on a book about a murder on Lake Superior set in the current century?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t act all confused just fight with me.”
I take a deep breath. I don’t know if I can do this. I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out. Addie waves her hands at me, like she’s waiting for an explanation. She mouths anI love youmy way. The difference in the character she’s playing and the woman she is is so jarring. I open my mouth to start a few times, but still, nothing comes out. She shakes her head.
“Say something,” she commands.
“You think I did this?” I blurt. I’m not a good actor, but I channel everything I felt in that moment her eyes landed on the USB. There’s raw hurt in my voice and it brings tears to Addie’seyes, which I immediately regret. I reach out to her, but she steps away. “Addie.”
“I trusted you,” Addie says, using the tears to her advantage, letting the rasp take over her voice. “I shouldn’t have trusted you.”
