Milan stepped inside after he-didn’t-know-how-long. His skin tightened by the tears that had dried on his face. Amica and Eli sat on the couch in the living room, and Aidan was nowhere to be found.
Milan walked straight toward Amica.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure.” Amica took one glance at him. “You… are you… I mean, have you been-”
“Phone.”
She complied. “What for?”
“I’m going to turn myself in.”
“What?!” Amica reached for the phone, but Milan nudged her backward.
“I told you, didn’t I? I’ll surrender if it turns out I was the culprit all along. And I am.”
“But you can’t know for sure,” Eli said. “What if the dude in the recordin’s lyin’?”
“He’s not. What he said… no, what I said in the recording was the truth. My parents hated each other. I was the only one that knew.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Amica said. “If it’s true your parents hated each other, wouldn’t there be a chance that they also… killed one another?”
Milan considered the thought before shoving it away. “No. If they had, what was Damien’s knife doing there? Neither my dad nor mom had it. And what about the recording they found later in my house, where I confessed the crime? And now this recording — my parents couldn’t be recording it, I mean, hell, it’s my voice!”
“But you don’t remember doin’ it,” Eli said.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Sure. But that’s not the only thing I don’t remember. I don’t remember playing chess with Amica, either. Or I remember things differently. And other weird things are going on with me.”
Amica reached for the pleated sofa arm, gliding her finger against the velvet fabric. “It’s not adding up, right? The mystery isn’t solved. Try listening to the recording again. Maybe you’ll remember something.”
He was about to reject ever doing that again, but before he had the chance, Eli spoke.
“Amica’s right, MW. Someone’s gotta be tryin’ to frame you.”
Milan suppressed a sigh. That reminded him of Eli’s joke back in the detention center. Milan had thought like her initially back then, but how else could the person who recorded the audio know about what had happened that day? Milan’s parents hadn’t told a soul in order to uphold their ‘happy family’ image. Besides, they weren’t the kind of people who talked with outsiders about their relationship issues. And Milan sure as hell had never told anyone. So, he could only come to one conclusion: he had to be the one who killed his parents.
“I need to talk with you.” Aidan walked into the living room out of nowhere, eyes glaring into Milan’s. “Privately.”
Amica and Eli looked at each other before they left. Milan opened his mouth, but Aidan’s fierce look made him close it again.
“I only let you in because Amica asked me to,” he said. “And the only reason I’m not calling the police as of this moment is because I respect you as her friend. But you need to leave, now.”
Milan narrowed his eyes. “You’re kicking me out.”
“Yes. Don’t you realize what’ll happen to us if they find out we helped you? Besides, you said it yourself. The police could be knocking down this door any moment. I worked way too hard in my life to be throwing it away, and I worked hard for Amica so she could have a decent life as well. I won’t let her get into trouble. Ever.”
Milan didn’t need a second to figure out Aidan wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t stay here any longer. He had caused them enough trouble as it was. He remembered Eli’s face as she witnessed Chet’s brain being blown out. Eyes widened, ghostly skin and as motionless as a corpse. She had been horrified. That was what Milan had put her through because of his plan. And if they found out Amica had helped Milan, she could kiss her old life goodbye. She never got to study for the exam she never wanted to attend. This was everything Milan had caused. Not to mention what had caused this mess to begin with — him killing his parents.
Aidan handed him a long, gray raincoat that had been draped over the back of the dining chair. “It’s going to rain. Wear this. And don’t show your face here again.”
Milan accepted the offer and thanked him for food and shelter in a soft, low voice. He threw the coat over his frame and left without looking back.