Sydney

“Don’t lie to me.” He pressed.

“Why are you so sure he did something?” I asked, my voice strange even to me. “Why do you think it’s him?”

“Because I’ve seen this before!” He suddenly snapped. “I’ve seen what he’s done, seen what he’s tried to do.”

He dragged a hand through his hair roughly. “Jesus Christ, Sydney. Just talk to me!”

I froze, the room suddenly feeling too small.

Heat rose in my face, my head replaying that picture on Dean’s phone.

How stupid and bright my smile was as I stared into the camera that day.

“Two days,” Dean’s voice echoed.

And here Tyler was, trying to...