“How did you know where I live?” He picks up a box from a shelve and shoves it beneath his bed. The room is nothing like I pictured for him. It’s barren, sterile. A bed, desk, small mini-fridge, nothing else. Everything is white. No pictures, no posters, no personality anywhere of the boy I know. “Liz, how did you get here?”
I swallow past the stone in my throat. My body is trembling. It feels like the floor is moving beneath my feet. “I ran.”
“Barefoot?” He frowns, pulling out a chair from his desk. “Sit down. You’re bleeding.” I comply, almost robotic. He leaves the room, disappearing into a bathroom, and returns with a washcloth. Bending a knee, he takes my ankle, lifts my foot, and dabs the sole. “How did you know where I lived?”
“You brought me here before. Made me wait in the car while you ran in to get your wallet.”
He pauses a couple seconds, then continues to clean my feet. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“You were right about Jack. God, if that’s even his name,” I ramble, my words coming out rushed, exhausted.
“Don’t move,” he orders, leaving the room. My head swims, a thousand different thoughts racing through it. Why did I feel such an instant connection with him? How did he know who I was, how to find me? Why would someone pretend to be a missing child? Questions barrel into me, knocking the air from my lungs. Could he be capable of murdering those women? It has to be him. It can’t be a coincidence.
“Here, take this. It will help with the pain,” Stephan says, coming back into the room, handing me a pill and a glass of water.
Swallowing the tablet, I down the water, spilling it a little in my trembling hand. I can’t control the shaking of my body. “Willis—Willis is dead,” I stutter out.
Stephan jerks away from me like I hit him. “What did you say?”
“I know, shocking, right?” I hobble to my feet, the sting centering me. “He’s not the one killing people.” A painful throb on my side makes me flinch. I lift my top to see a bruise forming there from my fall on the stairs.
“Wait, how do you know he’s dead?” Stephan asks, holding his hands to his head. I’ve blown his mind. I’m right there with you…only, I’ve shared my body with the real killer. Moving to his window, looking out, the trees sway to the rhythm of the wind. The world just keeps moving despite mine coming to an abrupt halt. All I see are the streets coated in blood, the moon mocking me.
“Lizzy, fucking talk to me. How do you know Willis is dead?”
“The police found his body.” My head becomes thick, my words slurring. Dropping to his bed before I stumble, my eyelids feel heavy. “What pill did you give me?”
“It’s just a Valium. Lay down, Liz.”
“No, I can’t.” Everything feels thick like I’m in Jell-O. My cell phone vibrates against my leg. Scrambling to free it from my pocket is such a task. My arms feel so heavy, I almost drop the phone when I finally grasp it. Charlotte’s picture fills the screen.
“Charlotte.” I panic. She was going back to the apartment. What if he hurts her? It takes me a couple attempts to swipe to answer her call. Stephan’s piercing eyes watch me with interest.
“Charlotte,” I groan, my tongue too thick inside my mouth.
“Liz, thank god. Where are you? Jack is freaking out.”
Run.
“He’s not Jack. Stay away from him.” It sounds weird to my own ears.
“Lizzy,” Jack’s voice croons down the line, making me weep.
“Don’t hurt her please.” Being responsible for her death is something I’d never recover from.
“I would never hurt her—or any girls, you have to know that.”
“I don’t know anything,” I sob. Stephan moves around the room, pulls out a sweater jacket, and places it over my shoulders. Something thumps from somewhere in the house, summoning Stephan’s attention, leaving me alone, fragile, broken.
“Willis kept a photo of my mother. It was the only damn thing he cared about and kept with him always. He would take it out of his wallet and show it to me, telling me about her. I think she was the only person he ever loved.”
He killed her. That’s not love. He was a beast, an animal.
“Liz, it wasn’t the woman in the photograph you had.”
I pinch the top of my nose, trying to ground myself, to stop the floor beneath me from quaking. “What?”
“I’m going to send you a picture of the picture he had. I kept it after—”
“After you killed him,” I slur my mouth too dry. I need water. Standing on unstable legs, I stumble to the dresser, knocking the glass over when I reach for it. My phone dings, so I pull the phone away from my ear and open the image. The racing of my heart roars in my ears. A beautiful woman, hugging her rounded tummy. “That’s my mother,” I croak. Darkness closes in around me and I drown into the abyss.
Twenty-Nine
The sun has been hiding from me. I’m lost in darkness, clawing to get free, only to gasp and choke on my own despair. My skull quakes and groans, my eyes fluttering open. It takes me a moment to remember where I am.
Moonlight drips in through the window, highlighting Stephan’s bed I’m lying on.
Jack.
I search around me for my phone, the image of my mother burning into my brain.
What did that mean? Finding it next to me, I bring up my aunt’s number and call it. The battery beeps in warning. Shit.
“Lizzy?”
“I need to ask you something—and don’t lie to me.” Her breathing is all I hear. “How did Willis Langford know my mother?”
Silence.
“Tell me!” I bark, my hands balling into the duvet.
“Why don’t you come
