“How are you going to do that?” Joanne asks, leaning back in the chair, looking like she’s concerned for me.
I don’t want her to be.
I don’t want anyone to be.
I swore when I was in that damned prison that I’d clear my name. I can’t get back what I’ve lost, but I’ll be damned if I spend forever being treated like a killer. I’m not. I was an innocent girl who made a big fucking mistake that landed me living out the worst thing I could imagine.
But Celia stepped in front of my car.
There were, of course, no witnesses. All the girls in the car with me at the time were flittering around on the ground trying to look for the spilled can of alcohol. Nobody was watching. I was the only one who saw her step out. The only one. It was my word against the world’s. Her parents said she wasn’t depressed. She had a perfect life; things were great. Her friends agreed. So did her teachers.
Nobody believes me.
Except Joanne and Max.
Even then, though, I don’t know if they’re just telling me what they want me to hear, or if they do truly believe that Celia stepped out in front of me that night.
“I’m going to start talking to people she used to know, teachers, friends, whoever I can. I want to figure out what happened in her life to make her feel like she needed to end her life. I want closure.”
“How are you going to get close to her family? They’re going to know you.”
I shake my head. “No, they won’t. I’ll be careful. Use a fake name. I look different now, so different.”
Joanne scrunches her nose up. “You’re risking a lot.”
I shrug. “I have to do this. You know I have to do this.”
“Understandable,” Joanne agrees. “So, you’re going to what? Pretend you’re someone else and go in and start asking questions?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I deserve this, but you know what? So does Celia. She was obviously living through something no one knew anything about. She was alone; she was scared. Nobody kills themselves unless they truly believe there is no way out. Celia was at that point. She deserves for someone to understand her story, even if she isn’t here anymore.”
“Do you think something bad happened to her?”
I shrug, sipping my drink. “I don’t know. All I know is that the story never matched up. I was put away for something that was only partially my fault. I’ve thought about this every day for six years. I deserve answers.”
“Yes,” Jo agrees. “Yes, you do. Well, I’m going to help with whatever you need. Just let me know.”
“Thank you,” I say, reaching over and grabbing her hand. “For believing in me when so many others didn’t.”
“I’ll always believe in you.” She smiles. “I’ve got your back.”
I’m glad, because God knows, nobody else out there has my back right now.
But I’m okay with it.
I’m strong.
I have no other choice but to be.
3
THEN – CALLIE
I wake alone.
It takes me more than a moment to realize what’s happening. To remember the horrific events that unfolded, to remember why exactly I’m here. In the hospital, the incessant beeping surrounding me, a noise that reminds me of the kind of turmoil I’m about to face. I might only be sixteen, but I knew the moment my eyes opened, and my brain cleared, what was going to face me.
Horror.
Pure horror.
As I recall the girl stepping out in front of me, the monitors start getting louder and louder. My heart races. Fear, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, curls its ugly hands around my heart and squeezes. I hit her with my car. The way it felt to slam into her, the sounds . . . I start panicking, doubling over, even though my body screams in pain.
A nurse rushes in, her hands on my arms, shaking me, telling me to calm down, to breathe. I can’t calm down. I can’t breathe. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was just trying to have fun. That was all—just fun. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I never meant for any of this to happen.
I’m just a kid.
Please.
“Calm down and look at me, Callie. You’re okay. You’re in the hospital. Your mother is outside. You’re going to be okay.”
Her words take an eternity to penetrate, but when they do, I slowly calm my breathing. Maybe everything isn’t so bad. Maybe the girl is okay, and I thought it was worse than it is? Maybe Joanne, Sophie, and Jessika are okay? Maybe they’re not even hurt. I’m okay, so they must be too, right? Maybe the nurse is right. Maybe everything will be okay.
“Callie!”
My mom’s shrill voice fills the room and my vision slowly clears in time to see her running towards me. She throws her arms around me, her fake-smelling, knockoff perfume burning my nose. I let her hug me, but I really wish she’d just let me go. I don’t want her to hug me. I don’t want her near me. I know she doesn’t care; I’m not stupid.
