“Fuck.” I feel like I screwed up badly.
I never should’ve gotten in the car with Camilla. But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have discovered the darkness in my family.But now I can’t vouch for those girls that were wheeled out of the apartment.
“Why is my uncle even here?” I ask. “If none of the girls died.”
He slumps back in the chair. “That’s what I want to know.” He mulls over something before pushing the button to turn the ignition on. “How do you feel about doing a stakeout for a bit? I know we have other things we need to be doing, but I’d like to keep an eye on this scene for a bit and see if we can figure out what in the hell the Star Meadows’ police department is up to.”
Once Ellis and I decide to keep an eye on the police, he pulls over and parks in a laundry mat parking lot that’s adjacent to the apartment. We’ve been sitting in the car for about thirty minutes, watching officers wandering in and out of the building. All of the girls have to be wheeled out on stretchers and loaded up into ambulances.
I chew on my thumbnail, worry trickling through me. “What if one of them doesn’t make it?” I ask. “What if one of them dies?”
“From what I saw, they should be okay. They’ll probably have to spend a night or two in the hospital to be monitored.” He pauses, watching the apartment carefully. “And they’ll probably face charges for drug use.”
“What?” I ask sharply. “Why?”
He sighs, glancing at me. “Because that’s what the police are writing this off as—a party gone wrong.”
“That girl in the hallway was drugged,” I stress. “I know what that looks like.” Tears fall from my eyes—I wasn’t even aware I was crying until now. “I feel like I failed them.”
“You didn’t. You helped them.” He reaches out and brushes a few tears from my cheeks. “We’re going to solve this. I promise we will. We have more leads than I have in the past, and that’s because of you. Don’t blame yourself for any of this, Aves.”
“If this has to do with my family, then it is partly my fault,” I whisper.
His gaze sears into mine. “No, it isn’t. You’re not responsible for what your family does and what they did and didn’t do. Trust me, I spent a lot of time blaming myself for my parents' anger toward my sister’s death. I blamed myself for her death as well. But I’m starting to realize that this,” he gestures at the apartment. “This is what the problem is. No one is getting held accountable for anything in this goddamn town, whether it be murder or sexual assault, and god knows what else. But you and I will change that.”
I hope he’s right, but I can’t help thinking about how many seasons have drifted by since my time in the woods and that if any secrets remain there, they’re hidden under a blanket of flourishing flowers and leaves that will eventually wilt and fade away, only for the snow to bury them once more.
If Clover did bury something out there, would it even exist anymore, or would the weather have destroyed it?
Silence stretches between us for a while before Ellis speaks again.
“You said you thought you saw Clover?” he asks cautiously.
I hesitate, unsure how I want to respond.. “This woman looked so similar that I followed her, even though deep down, I knew it couldn’t be Clover.”
“Maybe,” he mutters with his thinking face on.
I assess him with confusion. “You don’t believe it was actually her, do you?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I wonder if someone wanted you to believe that it was.”
“How would someone do that? It’s not like we were at that bar for a while. And we didn’t tell anyone we were going there. Speaking of which, did the bartender tell you anything?”
“No and yes,” he replies vaguely as he taps his fingers on top of the steering wheel. “He was lying to me, so I know he’s hiding something.”
I shift in the seat. “What did he lie about?”
He hesitates. “You.”
My stomach weaves with thorns. “What did he say?”
He flits a glance at me. “He said that night you were drinking, being rowdy, and hitting on everyone. He said you almost got into a fight, so he kicked you and your friend out.”
“How do you know that’s a lie?” I question with a sigh. “I can’t remember anything about that night, so it could be true.”
“I’ve seen you wasted before, Aves,” he reminds me. “And never once were you rowdy and obnoxious. You were mostly quiet, pensive, and sweet. And you usually only talk to me and Clover.”
That’s how he sees me?
