Page 57 of After Our Kiss

I settled my hand on hers. Our pinky fingers linked together. “How could I have forgotten?”

Dipping her head, she scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand.

“Are you crying?”

“Forget it,” she laughed. Lifting her hands, she fanned herself and stared at the clouds. “It's nothing some sugar won't fix. Let's eat this cake.”

I was torn between thinking I'd done something amazing... and something horrible. Could it really be both? We ate in silence, the air around us shifting into something easier to manage. It was almost joyous, but it never quite tipped there.

She plucked the purple ribbon off of the box and wrapped it around her wrist. “Can I keep this?”

My eyebrows lowered. “I don't care. But once Dad arrives, I can't guarantee anything.” Thinking about the future made me sick.

Her eyes were glistening. I expected her to cry again, but she didn't. “I know. Just for now.”

“For now,” I whispered, brushing the curling ribbon.

****

Lonnie was still in the kitchen when we went inside.

“Go on,” I said to Georgia, waving her down the hallway. She hesitated, eyeing my brother, before she darted out of view. When she was gone, I looked back at him. “You want something. What is it?”

He pushed his phone towards me. I expected there to be a message from our father, but it was a website instead. We had very spotty Internet on the island. Squinting, I read the article.

The police had started searching for Georgia back in October. That wasn't news to me, I'd paid attention to everything that had to do with her abduction. But I'd quit looking up news stories around two weeks back, when they still hadn't connected me to the crime.

Yesterday, they'd finally done it.

The article had my photos from the gas station plastered all over. It talked about my connection to the white van they thought was picking up girls. That the vehicle had been in the area Georgia Mary King was last seen in.

Her friend, Chelsea, insisted there was foul play. Georgia hadn't returned home the day after a party and her purse was still in Chelsea's car. Again, this was all old information. What was new was that piece of shit that’d tried to rape her finally come forward.

He'd told the police that he'd tried to save Georgia from a man with dark hair in a brown jacket and jeans. According to him, I'd overwhelmed him after a fight, and a lucky punch had knocked him out. He claimed to beveryconcerned about Georgia.

“Fun, right?” Lonnie said crisply.

I handed the phone back, sitting down across from him. “It's not like they can find us here.”

“No, probably not.”

My eyebrows scrunched together. “Then what are you worried about?”

“Me?” He touched his chest, blinking. “I'm not worried about anything. I'm just pointing out that you can't walk away from this unscathed.”

My shoulders bunched up, my jaw tensing. “I never thought I could.”

He watched me for a long, silent minute. “Okay then. This was your daily reality check, go back to having cake with your rent-a-girl.”

Shoving myself upwards, I knocked my chair to the floor loudly. I was furious—but not at Lonnie. He was right; there was no walking away from this. Had I honestly thought there was?

If I save Emily, it doesn't matter.

That belief lacked strength. It was smothered by a new voice that cried out to protect Georgia. But I could only keep them alive if I stayed on this path. There was no way out.

Was there?

Rounding the corner, I ran into her. She backed up before we collided. “What are you doing out here?” I asked.

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