“Chloe, honey,” my mother said, squeezing my fingers in her sweaty palm. “Why don’t you show the sheriff what you showed me this morning.”
I looked down at the box in my lap, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t want to show him. I didn’t want him to know what I knew. I didn’t want him to see the things that I had seen, the things in this box, because once he did, it would all be over. Everything would change.
“Chloe.”
I looked up at the sheriff, leaning toward me from across his desk. His voice was deep, stern but somehow sweet at the same time, probably from the unmistakable Southern drawl that made every word sound thick and slow like dripping molasses. He was eying the box in my lap; the old, wooden jewelry box my mother used to keep her diamond earrings and Grandma’s old brooches in before my father had bought her a new one last Christmas. It had a ballerina inside that twirled when the lid opened, dancing to a rhythm of delicate chimes.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re doing the right thing. Just start from the beginning. Where did you find the box?”
“I was bored this morning,” I said, holding it close to my stomach, my fingernail chipping away at a splinter in the wood. “It’s still so hot, I didn’t wanna go outside, so I decided to play with some makeup, mess around with my hair, that kind of thing.”
My cheeks reddened, and both my mother and the sheriff pretended not to notice. I had always been something of a tomboy, always preferring to roughhouse with Cooper in the yard over brushing my hair, but ever since that day with Lena, I had started to notice things about myself that I had never noticed before. Things like the way my collarbones popped when I pinned my bangs back or how my lips seemed juicier when I slathered them in vanilla gloss. I released the box then and wiped my mouth against my forearm, suddenly self-conscious that I was still wearing some.
“I understand, Chloe. Go on.”
“I went into Mom and Dad’s room, started digging around in the closet. I didn’t mean to snoop—” I continued, looking at my mom then. “Honest, I didn’t. I thought I’d grab a scarf or something to tie in my hair, but then I saw your jewelry box with all of Grandma’s nice pins.”
“It’s okay, honey,” she whispered, a tear dripping down her cheek. “I’m not mad.”
“So I grabbed it,” I said, looking back down at the box. “And I opened it.”
“And what did you find inside?” the sheriff asked.
My lips started trembling; I hugged the box closer.
“I don’t want to be a tattle,” I whispered. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
“We just need to see what’s in the box, Chloe. Nobody’s getting in trouble just yet. Let’s see what’s in the box, and we can go from there.”
I shook my head, the severity of the situation finally settling over me. I never should have showed Mom this box; I never should have said anything. I should have slammed the lid shut and pushed it back into that dusty corner and forgotten all about it. But that’s not what I did.
“Chloe,” he said, sitting up straighter. “This is serious now. Your mother has made a major allegation, and we need to see what’s in that box.”
“I changed my mind,” I said, panicking. “I think I was just confused or something. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“You were friends with Lena Rhodes, weren’t you?”
I bit my tongue, nodded slowly. Word travels fast in a small town.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “She was always nice to me.”
“Well, Chloe, someone murdered that girl.”
“Sheriff,” my mom said, leaning forward. He held his arm out and continued to stare in my direction.
“Someone murdered that girl and dumped her somewhere so terrible, we haven’t even been able to find her yet. We haven’t been able to find her body and return her to her parents. What do you think about that?”
“I think it’s horrible,” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek.
“I do, too,” he said. “But that’s not all. When this person was done with Lena, he didn’t stop there. This same person murdered five more girls. And maybe he’ll murder five more before the year is over. So if you know something about who this person may be, we need to know it, Chloe. We need to know it before he does it again.”
“I don’t want to show you anything that could get my dad in trouble,” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I don’t want you to take him away.”