Alicia Atkins

Maybe it would have even been safe to tell them that Alicia had been tailgating that night, that she had gotten too close once too often, that I was pissed off both at her and at my father, sitting in the passenger seat beside me critiquing every aspect of my driving, so I had slammed on the brakes to teach them both a lesson.

That's the truth, as I remember it.

It was nominally an accident, but I had been a great part of its cause.

I have tried to be a better person since then.

Bringing the skull to the police was a big step.

I feel it.

Yes, I was a manipulator, and yes, I have killed.

But the horrible things described in the diary?

They are beyond me, and I think they always were.

The light in the back hall is on when I let myself in, and I go to turn it off.

I can't remember leaving it that way when I went out, but so many things slip through my mind these days.

The loose board creaks as I step on it.

Then again.

Because there's someone behind me, someone who...

I wake up, sore from scalp to ankles.

I'm lying on the floor in the hallway, bound with zip ties.

Riot cuffs, I think.

Not just hand to hand, but hands to feet.

I can see the loose board, removed from its place and resting across the secret hiding spot.

Beside it, between it and my face, is a boot.