You Owe Me a Murder(77)

Kill to know. Another giggle burbled up from my chest. That was me. Killer. I bit hard on my lip and the coppery taste of blood was in my mouth. I paced back and forth in the tiny space of the laundry room.

I stopped short. What about what had happened to Alex? If Nicki wasn’t real, then how had I ended up with a jar of shrimp powder in my room? If I was blacking out, then I would have to be the one who had taken his EpiPen and essentially poisoned him. On purpose.

I wouldn’t have done that to Alex. I could accept that it might have been possible that I’d blocked out what I’d done to Connor, and that I’d even gone door to door looking for a place to break in and then blocked that out too, but I loved Alex. I wouldn’t have hurt him. Even if I had some kind of multiple personality, I couldn’t fathom that any part of me would have done that. I might have been messed up, but that was going too far. It meant I was willing to hurt someone I cared about to keep the delusion going.

But if Nicki was real, why would she want me to kill some random stranger?

My phone buzzed. Another text from Tasha.



Text or call me NOW.





I imagined she’d already called the police to report me missing. I glanced down at the phone in my hand. Could they track me? I’d had it on airplane mode most of the night before, but now that I’d turned it on, was it pinging off cell towers, narrowing down the search grid? Detective Sharma could be hunched over a computer right now, making a note as to my location.

I didn’t want to be caught, but it was becoming clear I needed help. I could potentially outrun the cops, my parents, Tasha, and even Alex—?but there was no running away from reality. Connor was dead and Alex had almost died. I might be a danger to other people.

Unless Nicki was real.

Only one way to find out and I had to know. I opened Instagram and took a quick picture of my shoes. Running out of time. Meet me where we met last. Now. I then cross-posted the message on every social media account I had. It wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else, but Nicki would remember the conversation we’d had at the Peter Pan statue.

I clicked off my phone. I needed to get the SIM card out. That was how the phone connected to the cell towers. With that gone, the phone couldn’t be used to track me. I searched around the room for something the right size. I found a pencil, but the tip was just a smidge too big to fit into the slot. The lead broke the second time I tried it, and I chucked the pencil down onto the floor, frustrated. Then I saw something buried in a pile of dust and lint at the baseboard: a paper clip.

I bent the end of the paper clip and said a quick prayer that it would work. It slid into the slot and the hinge opened, popping the tiny plastic SIM card into my hand.

I felt strangely calm. What I had to do was clear. I needed to confirm Nicki was real. If she wasn’t, and I was responsible for everything that had happened, then I’d turn myself in. Get help. Spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my actions in some way. But if Nicki had done all this, then I needed to be one step ahead of her for a change.

I glanced down at Em’s letter. I had met a prince, and while I was still sure I’d done the right thing by breaking up with him to make sure he was safe, that didn’t mean I didn’t regret it. I texted him back quickly.



I’m really sorry. You’ve been my Samwise and I’ve been Frodo off on my own mission. I’m not okay yet, but I will be.





The message wouldn’t be sent until I popped the SIM card back in, but I still felt better for having written it. It was time to get going. I jumped back onto the table and peered through the narrow window to make sure the courtyard was empty. It was raining. Not drizzling, either—?it was a full-fledged downpour. I tried to see the positive. People would be less inclined to hang out in a park.

I hefted myself up, chucked my bag outside, and started to crawl back through the window. Then the door to the laundry room swung open. I went completely rigid.

“Kim?” Sophie stood there. “The front desk clerk said she saw you.” She looked confused, which, given that I was half hanging out a window, wasn’t an unreasonable reaction.

Shit. It was bad that anyone had seen me, but Sophie especially would want to do the right thing. It was her nature. She’d tell Tasha where I was, not because Sophie wanted to get me in trouble, but because she’d think she was helping. I scrambled the rest of the way out, letting the window bang shut. I scooped up my bag and hustled for the street. I needed to disappear. I heard the window being pushed back open.

“Kim! Come back!”

I didn’t even bother to turn around. I had a date with someone more important.

Unless she was a figment of my imagination.





Thirty-Five


August 30


1 Day Remaining


I ducked into a Waitrose grocery and bought one of the pre-pared ham and cheese sandwiches in the deli. My makeshift breakfast hadn’t been enough. I was ravenous.

The rain plinked down onto my head. I chewed the sandwich. The bread was dry and sucked all the moisture out of my mouth. I circled the streets around the park, taking in my surroundings and debating my options.

Everything happens for a reason.

I turned over one option in my mind, considering the angles. Was that my solution? Would it even work? I thought I’d had her before and I had been wrong. I went through everything I knew, looking at the facts fresh. Science is about looking at the data. Truth hides in details. As I sifted through the information, I realized I’d missed something. I’d accepted things as true without question. But now that I had different information, it threw everything into a different light.