Page 27 of My Girl

I shake my head. It’s too easy, and he must see that. “But what if the suicide note was a setup too?”

He forces a laugh, then turns toward the entrance. “You’re from Vegas, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but?—”

“You’re all about the hustle.”

“What—”

“You want to make a quick buck by digging up whatever grief you can find.”

My knuckles turn white. “I’m doing this for school?—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffs. “You’re doing it for an A. You care nothing about the Hall family.” He steps toward the exit, and I follow after him. He frowns. “Don’t go digging where you don’t belong. The Halls need rest. I do too.”

“I’ll see you at the appointment then,” I say.

He stops in his tracks.

“Appointment?” he says. He and the secretary exchange a silent look, and the secretary nods. “Right.” He dips his chin at me. “See you then.”

The building doors close behind him. I stand frozen in the lobby. What the hell just happened?

Did he just silently tell his secretary to cancel my appointment?

Hehasto be covering it up. That’s the only way to explain everything that happened.

I dash over to the front desk. “I’ve still got an appointment, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the secretary says.

“The sheriff didn’t just tell you to cancel it?”

“Your appointment is still on the books.” She gestures to the computer screen. I can’t see anything though.

“He can still cancel it later,” I say.

The phone rings, and the secretary holds up a hand, asking me to wait. I don’t. There’s no reason to stay right now.

This obsession I have with my father’s maybe-murder is ridiculous. It’s not like I can change the past. Even when I prove it to my mother—that I didn’t come from a murderous father—it won’t do anything besides give me the chance to say I told you so.

And you think a little girl like you is going to find this killer?Crave had asked.

My skin flushes with heat as the ghost of his hand tangles in my hair. He was brutal and unrelenting, and he never gave me a chance to think. To feel. To plan. For once, Ihadto let go.

I can’t let Crave control me like that. I have to usehimto my advantage. And fucking him like I actually want him won’t help me blackmail him.

At the apartment, restless energy stirs inside of me, bouncing around like bolts of electricity.

I have to do something. I have to remind myself thatIam in control.

I open a dating app and find a local with an average face.

Are you free?I text.I want to fuck now.

What’s your address?he responds.

I switch on the surveillance cameras and double-check that the red recording lights are off. Even if I’m the one doing the stealing, you can never be too careful about what you catch on film. If this hookup tries to mess with me, I’ll have proof. And with enough editing, I’ll have proof of my innocence.