Chapter 5

The rain had stopped.

It was the first thing Marisol noticed when the words sank in — the slow hush of the storm dying, the water easing its assault on the windows. The room went quieter, holding its breath along with her.

"What do you mean, you told them she drowned?" Her voice was dangerously calm. She could feel herself standing on the edge of something, a cliff she hadn't known was there. "You told me they found her rabbit in the fence. You told me they searched the creek for a week. You told me she was declared dead after five years. Which part of that was a lie?"

Dean had sagged against the doorframe, his hands hanging at his sides. He looked like a man whose knees had just been knocked out from under him.

"The rabbit was real," he said. "It was in the fence. I found it there. I swear to you, I found it there."

"But you knew it wasn't hers."

He closed his eyes. "Her rabbit didn't have a stitched ear. Mine — the one I found — the ear was torn and sewn. I assumed it was hers. I didn't know it was wrong until I saw the one in her hands just now." He opened his eyes and looked at the girl, silent and watchful on the mattress. "I didn't know."

"You told them she drowned."

"I told them —" He stopped. Swallowed. "I told them I saw her go into the water. That's what I said. I told them I was watching from the window and I saw her slip off the bank, and I was too far away to catch her."

Marisol looked at him. A man she'd lived with for two years, who had never once raised his voice to her, who had never once lied to her about anything that mattered.

"Why?" she said. "Why would you say that?"

"Because they told me to."

"Who told you to?"