“Hey.” She sits up straighter as I shut the door. “Where did you go?”

“To eat some breakfast.” I pause at the foot of the bed, staring at her. Through all the madness of last night, I haven’t had time to think about what we did in the car. How we kissed. How I touched her. How I felt when she touched me back. I’m still so confused about it. So lost. About everything.

“Is everything okay?” She kicks the blankets off and scoots down the bed until she’s kneeling on the mattress in front of me. “I don’t want to push you,” she starts, “but I need you to know that I’m here for you if you decide you need to talk.”

“I don’t feel like talking,” I tell her then completely contradict myself seconds later as words pour out of my mouth. “They want me to try to remember stuff about three years ago.”

“Who does?”

“The police. Lila… She didn’t flat out say it, but I can tell she thinks I should. That it could help the case.”

Her forehead creases as she combs her fingers through her hair. “How does that even work? If you can’t remember, then you can’t remember, right?”

I shrug as I sink down onto the bed beside her. “There are ways. My therapist’s mentioned a few before, but I always turned him down.”

“What are you going to do?” She sketches a soothing path up and down my spine with her fingertip.

My instinctive shudder from her touch reminds me of what I face if I do decide to do this. I want to, if nothing else, for my brother; but I’m also terrified out of my Goddamn mind.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Well, I’m here for you, whatever you decide.” She hugs her arms around me and pulls me closer to her.

I close my eyes, and for the briefest instant, try to allow my mind to remember. But as soon as my body begins to quiver, I give up. Instead, I lean into Lyric’s touch, knowing that it’s only a temporary fix, and that eventually I’m going to have to make a choice.

Face my future.

Or completely shut down.