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I muster whatever strength I have left and scream. "River! Hazel!"

"Shut the fuck up!" the officer says before kneeing me in the stomach.

With the wind knocked out of me, I double over and gasp for air while saliva and snot drip from my face.

"Keep fucking moving!"

"Teagan!" someone screams from around the front of the old hangar.

"Hazel!"

"I said shut the fuck up!"

We round the corner to the front of the structure in time for me to get a glimpse of River's blonde hair before she's thrown into the back of a cop car.

I pass another car and see Hazel leaning against the window with tears streaming down her face. For a second, I think he's going to put me into the same car, but he doesn't. I'm read my rights and thrown into the back of a separate vehicle.

"Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

"Yes," I say.

"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

"I have nothing to say."

He slams the door in my face and leaves me there for about twenty minutes before he gets into the vehicle.

"What's your name?" he asks as we pull away.

"Teagan," I tell him. "Teagan Townsend."

"Where are you from, Teagan?"

"Mission Viejo, California," I tell him. "But I live in Fullerton near campus with my sister…or I did. Can I ask you something now?"

"Can't promise I'll answer," he says.

"Where are we?"

"Southern Wyoming."

"Why am I going to jail?" I ask. "I didn't do anything."

He laughs before answering. "Are you kidding me? There are about a million different things they could charge you with. Just depends on what you say and do next."

Numb, I lean against the window and cry for the rest of the drive.

TWENTY-NINE

Iguess I didn't say or do the right things.

I've been here for two nights—not that it matters. Nothing matters anymore. I'm numb to everything happening around me. All I can think about—the only thing I feel—is the excruciating pain in my chest cavity. Each breath I draw hurts. Each reminds me that I'll never breathe Luca in again, that I'll never know what it feels like to curl up beside Declan and burrow into that spot just under his chin. I could stay here forever in this cage, and it wouldn't make a difference.

What am I going to do if they let me out except mourn my loss, attend my own funeral in my head over and over again like I've been doing? That version of me who came alive over the last few weeks—the one who fell in love, the one who was better than just okay—died in a dirty, bloodstained field alone. And now, all I can do is stare at the wall while I bury myself in my own sorrow, cycling through the last couple of months over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of it all.

They got you. They never loved you. You fell for it like the fucking idiot you've always been.

It was a mistake. They'll be back for you. You'll take that vacation—you and Luca will have your secret. And you'll never be alone, just like Declan promised.