Page 126 of In Case You Didn't Know

She doesn’t reply right away. But I can hear her breathing, feel her presence like a thread pulling me to her across the miles. “Go to bed and get some sleep,” she says gently. “You sound wrecked.”

I feel it, too. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise her. We say our goodbyes and she hangs up right as the driver parks outside my apartment.

We arrange for him to pick me up first thing in the morning and say our goodbyes. Then I slide my phone into my pocket and step out of the car.

The city hums around me, the breeze cool against my face. The car pulls away from the curb, its red tail lights disappearing into the night.

And that’s when I feel it.

A prickle at the back of my neck.

Then a figure steps out from the shadows. And just like that, the night turns colder.

thirty-four

ASHER

For a moment I assume it’s a coincidence as the lamplight hits the face of the last person I want to see as she takes a step toward me.

“What do you want, Annalise?” I’m unable to hold back the sigh of frustration I feel at not being able to walk back into my apartment and go to fucking sleep.

She’s wearing a black dress and the kind of high heels that look awkward as hell to walk in. But somehow she does, taking another step toward me.

Enough for me to see the shadows under her eyes. The way her skin looks sallow.

And for one moment, I actually feel sorry for her.

“We need to talk,” she says softly. Like she doesn’t want anybody else to hear.

I frown. “There’s nothing to talk about.” And then I remember the other night. The way she looked when she saw me with Francie at the restaurant. Christ, I don’t have the bandwidth for this kind of drama.

“Nathan’s insurance refused to pay his hospital bills,” she tells me.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” But it’s not my fucking problem. I don’t add the last bit. I’m not the biggest asshole in the world. Not yet. “Maybe he can use some of the money I paid him.”

“You don’t look sorry. And it’s your fault. If you hadn’t thrown him out of his own company…”

I put my hand up, annoyed. I don’t have time for this. “Look, Annalise, whatever Nathan has done, including snorting all that money up his own nose, is his own fault. I’m sorry he’s sick, I really am, but it has nothing to do with me. I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I have no idea why you came here to say this.”

“Because I have these.” She pulls an envelope out of her purse, her expression somehow triumphant. It reminds me of the days my dad would win at poker. When he thought he was the king of the world.

My stomach tightens as she passes it to me. And against my better judgment, I take it, knowing that no good can come of this. The envelope feels warm against my fingers as I slowly lift the unglued flap.

There are prints inside. The glossy type, like you used to get before selfies were a thing and memories were forever.

And then I see what’s on them.

Francie.

Her eyes closed. Her lips parted. The same picture we found in Shaun’s house. But in a much, much better resolution.

“She’s very… expressive, isn’t she?” Annalise says.

I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you get this?” Did Shaun sell the stills to her? How did he even know about her?

She shrugs. “Let’s just say your security breach was more thorough than you realized.”

“You know about the breach?” My voice is low. I’m trying not to let the fury overwhelm me.