Kylee froze, her features twisted in horror at the sight of her mom in the doorway, who looked equally horrified.

The blood drained from Price’s face. “Oh. Just checking the mirror, that’s all. Looks good, so . . . bye.” He made to run past her, but she blocked him.

“How did you get in here?” she demanded. Her eyes darted to the empty space around him. “And why do you keep coming back?”

Price inhaled. “You didn’t believe me last time, so there’s not much point in explaining again—”

“Is she with you?” her mother interrupted.

“Uh—” Price stole a glance to Kylee. “What?”

Theresa’s eyes followed his gaze. “She is, isn’t she? You were telling the truth.” She breathed shallowly, one hand moving to her chest. Her arm dropped from the doorframe, but Price didn’t move.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I was.”

Her cheeks flushed, and her lip trembled. “Why is she haunting me?”

“Tell her Bill killed me,” Kylee said. “Tell her that’s why I’m here now.”

Price hesitated.

“Tell her!” Kylee shouted, shoving his arm.

Her mom’s gaze went to Price’s arm as it bounced back against his body. “She did that.” Her breathing came faster.

He cleared his throat. “She wants me to tell you something.”

Theresa covered her face with her hands. “No. No. Tell her I’m sorry. But it’s time for her to go.”

“You need to hear this. She didn’t kill herself.”

“No!” Her hands flew away from her cheeks. “No, don’t talk about this!”

“You’d rather believe I killed myself?” Kylee screeched.

“She wasn’t suicidal,” Price said. “You’re her mom. You should know that. She was sad, lonely, angry, but not suicidal. Kylee—” his voice choked up. Price shook his head and swallowed hard. “Kylee loved life.”

Kylee held her breath, hoping Price’s emotion moved her mother as much as it did her. But her mom stared at him, her face pasty.

“Her life was miserable. She hated it. You should go now.”

“But you know I’m telling the truth—” Price began.

“It doesn’t matter what I know!” Theresa shouted. “Just go! Go, if you know what’s best for you!” She reached for him.

“It was Bill!” Price shouted back. “He killed her!”

She paused in mid-motion. “What?” The word came out in a hoarse whisper.

Price lifted his chin. “Bill killed your daughter.”

“Bill killed her?” Her hands fluttered, an expression of disbelief on her face.

Price bobbed his head up and down. “Yes. Yes! You have to tell the police. You have to help us prove it.”

Theresa started laughing. Laughing. Kylee stared at her.

“Bill,” Theresa echoed. “Bill killed her.” She shook her head. “Go now. And don’t come back.”

“Kylee can’t go,” Price said. “Not until we prove her killer.”

“Go!” Theresa shouted, louder than Kylee had ever heard her. “Do not come back!”

“Come on.” Kylee took his hand and pulled him out of the bathroom, purposefully bumping her mom’s shoulder on the way out. “She’s not gonna help.” She didn’t bother going out the window, but led Price down the hall and out the front door. She slammed it hard behind them.

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“Was that necessary?” Price murmured, rushing to keep up with her as she stormed around the side of the house.

Kylee couldn’t begin to explain the anger she felt. That her mother would prefer to think her death was a suicide than acknowledge the real killer . . . She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sure. No problem.” Price shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you think there were drugs in that medicine cabinet?”

Kylee had forgotten that was what they were doing. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re not going back. There’s still the woods. Anything could be hidden there.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “We haven’t searched there yet.” He stayed quiet as they trooped past her closed window, past the clothesline with wet articles blowing in the breeze, all the way until they reached the edge of the woods.

Kylee’s anger toward her mother had darkened, deepened, and now she felt wounded. A sense of betrayal weighed her down, and she let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even know what we’re looking for anymore, Price. A bloody piece of carpet? Drugs? A knife? Some kind of proof?” The mystery felt hopeless to her. Maybe she should give up.

She realized she’d moved to her tree trunk. She sat down on top of it, discouraged.

“We’re going to figure this out, Kylee. We’re looking for all of the above. Either. Or. Let’s think like Bill.” Price tapped the side of his head. “He’s an evil creep, but he’s not stupid. If he were, the police would’ve found the drugs already. So assuming he’s got some brains, what would be the best way to get rid of that evidence?”

She stood up. “Why didn’t I think of it before? He probably dumped the proof close to where he dumped my body.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go to the Littles’ land. They have hundreds of acres.”

“And a swamp,” Price added. “Maybe you’ll remember something that pinpoints where it might be.” He reached for her hand.

She hesitated before slipping hers into his. It felt misleading, somehow, to be close to him right now. As if she were leading him on. But as his fingers closed around hers, she felt the strength of their connection.

He tugged her arm. “You can’t take us there if you’re not looking.”

“Right.” She gave him a crooked smiled. Pulling Price along behind her, she ducked under low-hanging branches and climbed over fallen trees as they headed toward the swampland. Mosquitoes buzzed around them, though they were quite oblivious of Kylee.

“Argh.” Price let go of her hand to swat at the little bugs. “I hate these things.”

“I know, right? One thing I don’t miss.”

Though still early evening, the sunlight barely penetrated the leafy canopy overhead. Crickets mingled their chirping with the cicadas, unaware it wasn’t nighttime. Somewhere close by, a frog croaked.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Price whispered.

She didn’t answer. The path had gotten easier, the thistles and bushes piled down as if driven over. She stepped over a bare patch of dirt that looked like a tire track.

“This must be the path the cops took,” Price said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. She spotted the marshy lake up ahead and made her way to it. “Look for a burn pile, I guess.” She kicked at some of the green reeds, avoiding the spot where she’d seen her body. “Should be easy to see.”

They searched in relative silence, except for Price’s grunting as he slapped his exposed skin, trying to drive away the bugs. Even Kylee was put out by the swarms of gnats buzzing in her ears. She knelt down and brushed aside undergrowth, hoping to find black ashes beneath, some evidence of charred foliage.

The familiar cold began creeping into her fingertips, faster this time, as if it knew time was running out. The noises from the swamp pressed in around her, as close as if the world were caving inward. Whispers brushed around her, wrapping her mind in an overbearing fog. The grass in front of her spun, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She jumped when a twig snapped, the noise echoing like a cannon in her mind.

“Just me,” Price said, kneeling next to her. “You okay?”

She reached out and clutched his hand, relieved when the vertigo faded and the noises returned to the background. “Yeah. I’m okay.” She straightened up and froze. In front of her, several yards away through the trees and nearly obscured by the vegetation, was the old blue pick-up truck. “Hey. That’s Bill’s truck.”

“The one you said was in your front yard?” Price said.

“Yes!”

“Why didn’t the Littles tell the police it wasn’t theirs?”

“Price, they’re so old! They probably have no idea it’s here!”

“Why would Bill move it?”

That was the question. “Let me look inside it,” she said. “You stay back. Don’t touch it, actually. I don’t want your prints on it.”

Price hesitated. “Kylee, if we find something . . .”

“You should call the police,” she replied. “In fact, do it right now.”

He pulled out his phone. “Oh, crap.”

“What?” She pushed her way through the underbrush, more hesitant than she wanted to admit. The answers were here in this truck. She felt it in her bones. Soon they’d have them. Her name would be cleared. And then what?

“I never took my phone off silent. Amy’s called twice.”

“Call her back.”

“Yeah.”

She was almost to the truck. She took a deep breath and let it out. All she had to do was go inside.

Branches snapped behind her, and Price let out a loud grunt, followed by a thud.

“Price?” Kylee whirled around, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

He lay on the ground. A figure draped in a hoodie stood over him, clutching a baseball bat.

Bill had found them.

“Price!” Kylee ran back to him. If she held his hand, she’d be able to attack Bill, force him back. She knelt next to Price and ran her hands over his head blood seeped into his hairline, weeping from a gash above his forehead. She choked back a sob, shaking as she tried to pinch the skin together. How badly was he hurt? Keeping one hand on his, she fished around for something she could use to fend Bill off.

“Foolish, meddling boy.”

Kylee stopped moving. She forgot to breathe. That wasn’t Bill’s voice.

She lifted her head and saw not Bill’s face in the hoodie, but her mother’s.

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