I am glad you could join us, a voice whispered. She felt its sickly breath against her throat. It has been a very long time.
“What…？” she began.
She couldn’t remember what she meant to ask.
You want to know why you dream of death. You want to know why your bones reach for the earth. You have spent your nights starving for the truth.
Logan’s stomach churned. She nodded. The voice’s words were true, but they were true in a way she’d never felt before. They were true in a way that had no alternatives. Logan was peeled away and something else took her place. The truth was the only thing she wanted; she couldn’t remember wanting anything else.
“The truth…”
The dark rested just above her skin like gathered cloth. Sweetly, the dark breathed, Would you like me to show you?
Logan didn’t answer. She didn’t need to answer. The dark swallowed her whole and she was gone, hurtled out of time.
34
If The Truth Is A Lie
Ashley followed Tristan to the police station with her heart in her throat.
As soon as she killed the engine on the Land Rover, Tristan’s silhouette disappeared and she was left in the yellow glow of the station lights. She’d followed Tristan because there was supposed to be an answer at the end of the road, but the station was empty. None of the police cruisers were parked outside. The only car in the lot was the scuffed-up ParaSpectors minivan.
Ashley climbed out of the Land Rover and ran into the station. The front desk was empty, but all of the lights were on. Behind the reception desk, she heard clattering and scraping like someone was digging around in the drawers. The overhead lights flickered, and it struck Ashley that it was too bright, too alive in here to be empty.
“Hello?” Ashley asked.
The clattering stopped. A man stood up behind the counter. She immediately recognized his short crop of dark hair and thick-rimmed spectacles. He’d been living in this town for months, but this was the first time Ashley saw him face-to-face. The first time she saw him alive.
Brandon Woodley rolled his eyes. “Are you serious? I don’t have time for this.”
“Mr. Woodley?” Ashley asked. “Are you here for Logan?”
He stared. “I was. She’s gone. Her phone is off.”
“But she…” Ashley trailed off.
“Your mother called and said she would be here.” Brandon dug into the drawers again like Ashley wasn’t there. His hair was disheveled, fingers fumbling over sticky notes and highlighters like he was running out of time. “Didn’t even say what she was arrested for. I swear to god, this town never fails to—”
“Did you find it?” another voice called.
This was Alejo from somewhere in the back of the station. Guilt bunched up in Ashley’s stomach. While she’d been wallowing in her grief for the last two weeks, Alejo had been stuck here.
“Not yet.” Brandon pulled open another drawer and scanned its contents. “Becky would have the keys, right?”
“I don’t know.” Alejo laughed. “They don’t really show prisoners where the keys are.”
Brandon gave a short, strangled laugh.
Ashley cleared her throat. She’d seen keys before, but not at Becky’s desk. She made her way back into the station, past the wooden desks, and into Sheriff Paris’s office. The holding cell was carved into the wall behind her. She felt Alejo watch her through the bars, puzzling through where she was going. A mounted rack near Paris’s desk held several sets of keys. Ashley plucked the ones labeled HOLDING CELL from their hook and stepped back into the lobby.