Page 40

“I'm going to do the right thing, I'm going home. You have questions, I have questions, but we can't get answers if I'm sent someplace else.”

“Fio—” Pointing my finger, I stopped him from saying that name. Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. “Cyprus, please, let us do our job.”

“I'm not stopping you from doing your job, I'm stopping you from fucking up my life even more than it already is. The diary was enough, I have some shit to think about, some shit to run through my head.” Standing up, I pressed my palms down and loomed over the detective. “So if I'm not under arrest, I'd like to just go home. If you have some court ordered authority to lock me up, then do it. Otherwise, I'm done for today.”

He could try and talk me out of it all he wanted to, but I wasn't going to be swayed.

It took them eight years to finally find me, I wasn't going to let it take eight more before I got answers.

“I want my diary.”

“That's evidence.”

“That's mine. I want it back, I deserve that much from you.”

Pursing his lips, he rocked his jaw. “Give me a few minutes, let me see what I can do.” Leaving the room, he returned about fifteen minutes later. Holding out the diary, I gripped the trim, but he didn't release it right away. “Maybe this will help you get your memory back, I really hope it does. The sooner you see those men for who they really are, the sooner you can start healing.”

“Yeah, healing, that's what I need to focus on.” Drawing my brows up, I plucked the diary free and stood up. “Where were you all those years ago? Where were you when it actually counted?”

“Cyprus—”

“I'm all grown up now, Detective, that little girl is gone.”

Turning my back, I walked out the door.

My skin was thick, my soul was full.

The girl in the diary hadn't existed in years. The only thing I cared about was finding out what really happened to her.

I owed her that much.