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Time to up the acting. I could do this. If I could pretend that I was on my period seven times in a month to get out of gym in sixth grade, I could pretend to have no idea why an entire building looked like a scene from a zombie movie.

“It was just me. No one else came in after Pete left. Not unless they had been hiding or something.” I shivered. “Was I alone in the museum with a terrorist?”

“We don’t know. At the moment, we have more questions than answers,” Oliver said.

“Am I in danger? Are they going to come after me?” I pulled the sheet tighter against me and looked at my tiny windows.

“We don’t have any evidence to suggest they were targeting you specifically. It is more likely that whoever did this was targeting the museum. I wouldn’t worry too much, although I wouldn’t recommend you take any extra risks either. Stay around people, try not to be alone until we learn more,” Oliver tried to reassure me.

Billings scribbled something in a tiny notebook. “Perhaps we should take you to the hospital and have you checked out? Not being able to remember what happened could be a sign of a serious head injury.”

He framed the question to sound kind, but the glint in his eye told me it was a calculated move. If the doctors checked me out and said I was fine, then he would have more proof I was hiding something.

I shook my head. “I’m terrified of hospitals. Maybe I just need to rest more and my memories will come back.”

There was an awkward moment of silence until both detectives stood. Oliver reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, laying it on the table in front of me. “If you think of anything, give me a call.” He paused, then added, “My personal number is on the back. It doesn’t matter how early or late it is, call me.”

I touched the card with my fingers, nodding my head. There was a tiny part of me that felt crushed by the circumstances of our meeting. I would have loved to call his number… if not for the fact that I currently had two dino shifters in my bed. Oh! And let’s not forget the added complication that he was currently investigating me for a crime I didn’t commit.

Well, that I probably didn’t commit. To be fair, I wasn’t exactly sure what part I’d played in the fiasco at the museum.

“I will.” The lie tasted sour on my tongue.

He gave me a small smile and followed Billings to the door, where they saw themselves out.

The moment the door clicked closed, I darted for the toilet, where I dry heaved up the non-existent contents of my stomach. The stress of the last twenty-four hours was catching up with me.