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“She wasn’t mean. She was stubborn. If Emily thought she was right, she kept talking until everyone else surrendered.”

Judy almost smiled.

“She sounds familiar.”

Rylie looked at her.

“So do you.”

For the first time since the interview began, Judy’s professional expression cracked.

Only slightly.

Then she continued.

“Did Emily have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Was anyone interested in her?”

“Several boys at camp. She ignored them.”

“Any older men?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Did anyone make her uncomfortable?”

Rylie looked at the photograph.

“She thought someone had been inside our cabin.”

“When?”

“Near the end of the summer.”

“What was missing?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why did she think someone entered?”

“Her things had been moved. The blankets on her bed were different. Her hairbrush was on the dresser instead of in her bag.”

Judy became still.

“What kind of hairbrush?”

“I don’t know. A normal one.”

“Was there anything else?”

Rylie’s forehead tightened as she tried to remember.

“She found a bottle of pink fingernail polish beneath her pillow.”

Trigger’s hand covered hers.