Chapter 2
I stuffed the recorder into the lining of my bra before Lila woke up on my couch.
She’d insisted on staying the night, “to take care of me.”
Every time she looked at me, her eyes were red and puffy.
But now I saw the flicker beneath the tears.
Calculation.
She made me coffee at dawn, her hands steady as she set the mug down.
“Have you seen Mia’s teddy?” she asked, casual, like she was asking about a missing sock.
My heart hammered against the recorder.
I kept my face blank.
“With her things,” I said.
“In the attic.”
Lila’s jaw tightened for half a second.
So fast I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching.
“Poor baby,” she said, wiping a fake tear.
“I just wanted to hold it. It smells like her.”
She stepped toward the stairs, like she was going to look for it right then.
I stood up, my legs wobbly.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice cracking.
“I can’t… not yet.”
She stopped, her back to me.
“Of course,” she said, soft.
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m just so lost without her too.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and stepped into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
I crept after her, pressing my ear to the wood.
Her voice was a sharp whisper, nothing like the soft sister act from two minutes prior.
“She says it’s in the attic,” she said.
“I don’t know if she’s lying. She’s been acting weird since last night.”
A pause.
Then she hissed, “I don’t care if you’re scared. We did the hard part already. If she finds that recorder, we’re both dead.”
My blood ran cold.
They knew Mia had hidden the recorder.
They’d been looking for it since she died.
Lila pulled the kitchen door open.
I stumbled back, pretending I’d been standing by the couch.
She smiled at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Jake’s coming over with breakfast,” she said.
“Is that okay?”
I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak.
Jake was on his way.
May you like
The two people who’d killed my daughter were about to be under my roof together.
And I had to act like I didn’t know a thing.
