Unconscious and tied to a kitchen chair, he doesn’t look like a monster. He looks… young. Almost innocent, with his true self tucked away behind closed eyelids.

Rocking back on her heels, she lets it all sink in.

It’s a strange thing, to hold someone’s life in her hands. To be the judge, jury, and executioner, the power to erase a person’s whole future vibrating through her bones, tingling in the tips of her fingers. To know that it would be so easy. A temptation she had never considered before.

Perhaps this high is the same thing he felt.

June stares at the man who killed her best friend and wonders if this is justice or vengeance, and if it even matters.

 

~*~

 

Something’s wrong.

June can tell when everyone else at the table starts to feel it too, the energy shifting from quiet excitement to something tenser.

“Maybe she’s just running late,” Olivia says, always the first to reach for a logical explanation and reassurance. June’s always respected that about her friend, the blend of reason and naivety that seems to coexist inside of her. Where Olivia can remain optimistic—though she insists it’s just self-preservation—June has seen too much of the ugliness in the world to allow herself to be vulnerable like that.

In this case, though, she hopes Olivia is right and Tessa is just running late. But her words sit uncomfortably at the table, calling forth a truth none of them want to say—that slightly neurotic and controlling Tessa, always determined to be fifteen minutes early to everything, wouldn’t be running late. And if she was, she would have called.

June opens her texts again but already knows what she’ll find—several unanswered messages to Tessa over the last two days and a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach. A feeling that she learned long ago not to ignore.

Emily, Tessa’s sister and one of June’s best friends, shakes her head, her dark bun bobbing with the movement. Her eyes meet June’s over the table and she knows Emily feels it too. Her cuticles are bright red from where she’s been anxiously picking at them.

The waiter stops at their table for the third time, clearly impatient that they’ve been sitting without ordering. Olivia told him that they’re waiting on someone, but on a busy Friday night with a line out the door, he doesn’t care.

“Let’s just order before he kicks us out,” June mutters to her friends. “We should give Tessa a bit longer in case she shows up.”

Friday nights at their favorite Italian restaurant, Angelo’s—nothing fancy but the portions are good and the drinks are reasonably priced—are a weekly ritual for them. It’s probably the main reason that the four friends stayed together since high school, their weekly reconnection over breadsticks and wine.

They order and wait for their food, the tension in the air getting thicker with each minute that goes by and Tessa doesn’t walk through the door. There’s an elephant in the room, but June doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, in case Olivia or Emily don’t know.

Luckily, Olivia doesn’t have such reservations. “So…” she starts, clearing her throat, her brown eyes jumping between June and Emily. “Did Tessa tell you about Mason?”

June glances at Emily, who takes a big gulp of her wine. “I knew something was up so I confronted her. Sisterly bond, or whatever. But yeah, she told me.”

There’s a pang of guilt in June’s chest—she hadn’t known, not until Tessa showed up at her apartment, eyes red-rimmed and makeup smudged. When she let her in, Tessa collapsed on her couch like someone knocked her feet out from under her and said that she thought her husband, Mason, was cheating on her. All the signs were there; his newly password-locked cell phone and secretive late-night calls, suspicious charges to his credit card, their sex life practically non-existent. She’d cried on June’s shoulder when she told her, embarrassed and hurt. And then she got mad.

That was Tessa for you. She was hard for June to keep up with at times, to the point where all she can do is stand back and watch in awe. Her emotions rule her and some days, June envies her for it—Tessa’s life is always so bright and loud, but she’s somehow always in control. She’s not along for the ride, she’s driving the car.

They were opposites in that way, but people don’t stay best friends for fifteen years without figuring out how to make it work. June basked in her glow and let Tessa give her the occasional taste of a life of excitement, but at the end of the day, their love was formed through all-night movie marathons on the couch and quiet hikes to their favorite places where the world felt far away.

“Maybe it went badly,” June says softly. “She might be avoiding us, too embarrassed to tell us they’re separating or getting divorced.”

Emily snorts into her drink. “I hope it did. Mason never deserved her, never treated her right. If I was her, I would have dumped his ass on the curb a long time ago.”

There’s old bitterness there and June and Olivia share a look. They both know that Tessa’s husband has been a point of conflict between the sisters over the years, though June can’t blame Emily for it. Her sister has a serious addiction when it comes to Mason and she refuses to end things with him, no matter how terrible he is.

June can’t help but think about that night four years ago, storming out to her car with a rage that she’d never felt before, Tessa crying and pleading behind her, for her to just stop, to just slow down, to let her explain. How even through the thick rain, June could see the blood on Tessa’s face, dripping from her nose and painting her lips cherry red.

Even on that night, Tessa made excuses for him. And June loved her so much that she stopped and made herself listen.

“Maybe,” Olivia says, “she’s avoiding us because she didn’t confront him.”

They all fall silent.

All three women at the table know how quickly Tessa’s mind can change. How her determination and anger can flip like a switch when it comes to her husband.

June hasn’t heard from her in two days, two days of missed calls and ignored texts until she got the message and gave her friend space. She hadn’t thought much of it, but now she can’t shake this sick, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. It reminds her of when her mom had been in a car accident and she’d just known deep down that something was wrong when she didn’t show up to their lunch date on time.

The memory makes something sour rise in her throat.

“I have to go check on her.” June stands from the table, tucking her hair behind her ears and grabbing her purse. “Finish dinner and have an extra glass of wine for me. I’ll let you know when I find out what’s going on with her.”

“Tell her we don’t care what happened with Mason.” Olivia’s voice is soft, but there’s a spark in her normally warm brown eyes, an edge of steel to her voice. “If she needs help with him, we’re here for her.”

Emily nods, her mouth tight.

Neither of them asks to come with and June is glad.

 

~*~

 

He stirs slightly, head lolling against his chest, and June’s throat goes dry.

She’s not afraid, she’s ready. She’s practically shaking with anticipation, like a bow strung too tight and waiting for that moment where she’ll either snap or find release.

When he wakes, she can get the answers she’s been so desperately searching for, something to help patch the gaping hole that’s been bored through her chest. It’s the not knowing that’s been killing her, waking her in the night with painful, gasping breaths and hot tears streaking down her face.

She wonders if Tessa had cried, in the end.

 

~*~

 

Tessa’s house is empty, nothing but shadowy corners and the lingering smell of bleach. June wrinkles her nose against the harsh scent, flipping lights on as she makes her way back downstairs from the bedroom. Tessa must have been stress-cleaning, never a good sign. It’s usually pretty easy to tell her friend’s mental state by how spotless her kitchen is and from the chemical smell, June is willing to bet it’s literally sparkling.

When she let herself into the house after no one answered the door—Tessa’s key on her ring marked with a piece of neon pink tape—June had been afraid to find her drunk out of her mind, weeping over a husband that all of her friends hate. Finding her house empty though, a different sort of fear churns in June’s stomach.

She checks Tessa’s office, finding her purse perched on the corner of her desk. She’d parked behind her friend’s car that was still in the driveway, a lemon-yellow Volvo that, despite just hitting thirty, Tessa calls her “mid-life crisis ride”.

Where would she have gone without her car or her purse?

June finds her cellphone in the main pocket next to her wallet. It’s dead, the screen black and reflecting June’s pale face back at her, but it’s definitely Tessa’s—she would recognize that gaudy case anywhere, a birthday gift last year from Olivia.

Car, maybe, purse, unlikely… but Tessa would never leave without her phone.

The floor creaks behind June and she jumps, dropping the cellphone on the floor with a sharp crack. Heart racing and hands shaking, she finds Tessa’s husband in the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a shadow across the floor.

“June? What are you doing here?”

“Jesus, Mason, you scared me.” June lets out a shuddering breath and picks the phone back up. “Tessa didn’t show up for dinner and I was worried. No one’s heard from her in a few days. Do you know where she is?”

He doesn’t look concerned, shrugging out of his jacket and June follows him back into the living room where he tosses it over a chair. He must have just gotten home from work, his toolbelt on the counter.

“She’s probably staying with Emily.”

“No, I saw Emily tonight and she hasn’t heard from her either. Why would you think that, did something happen?”

Mason frowns, something flickering through his eyes. “We… had an argument yesterday. I drove to the store to get some air and when I came back, she was gone. I assumed she called one of her friends to come get her and stayed the night. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

No, it wouldn’t.

“Without her purse or her phone?” June holds up the phone in her hand.

He stares at it, eyes narrowed slightly as he reaches out to take it. “She must have forgotten it.” The lack of concern in his voice sends a chill skittering down her spine.

“She wouldn’t, or she would have come back for it. I think we need to call the police.”

He glances up sharply. “What are you saying?”

There’s something charged in the air and she doesn’t like it. She can see his knuckles are white where he’s gripping Tessa’s phone tightly.

“Mason,” she says slowly. “Your wife is missing. She has been for a whole day, maybe longer. We need to call the cops.”

A long second goes by and finally, he nods. “Let me grab my phone.”

 

~*~

 

When his eyes finally flutter open, June is sitting in front of him. She watches as his confusion turns to comprehension, as he strains against the ropes keeping him bound to the chair. Unfortunately for him, her dad taught her long ago how to tie an effective knot.

“What’s happening?” he rasps, his voice hoarse. Blood has trickled from his gash on his head down to his rapidly blinking right eye, but June doesn’t wipe it clear.

“Welcome back. It’s time to tell me what you did to her.”

June’s voice isn’t her own but it doesn’t frighten her. For Tessa, she’ll become whoever she needs to be.

~*~

 

He’s crying.

“It’s okay,” Sheriff Erikson tells him, his voice tinged with a gruff understanding. “Take your time and tell me what the fight was about.”

Mason says something in return, but all June can focus on are the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, the way they glisten in the kitchen light. A strangled noise leaves him, something between a sob and a cough.

He’s crying.

The man who she’s known for years and never seen even give an emotional sniffle, who barely showed his own wife any affection, who hadn’t shed a single tear when they had to put down their dog last year, is openly crying at the thought that his wife might be missing.

It’s surreal.

It’s wrong.

An icy cold feeling spreads through June and she has this terrible feeling that she’s never going to be able to catch her breath again.

“It seems so stupid now,” Mason tells the sheriff, wiping at his eyes. “I’m supposed to be having dinner with my parents next weekend and she wanted to skip it. Things just… escalated. She said she needed space so I left, and when I came back, she was gone. I assumed she was staying with a friend or her sister until June showed up looking for her.”

He doesn’t mention the affair. Either Tessa didn’t confront him about it or he’s lying to protect himself.

“Ms. Norris?” Sheriff Erikson is gazing at June in concern. The creases in the corners of his eyes are deeper than when she last saw him. “I asked when you realized Tessa Brewer was missing?”

“Sorry.” June can’t stomach looking at Mason’s tearstained face, so she makes herself meet the sheriff’s calm blue eyes. “It was only an hour ago or so. We meet every Friday for dinner over at Angelo’s, the Italian restaurant. When we realized she was running late, it came up that none of us have heard from her in the last day or two.”

“And who exactly is ‘us’?”

“Olivia Valdez and Tessa’s sister, Emily Barton.”

He jots their names down on a notepad and proceeds to ask her more procedural questions, when she last heard from Tessa, if she knew anywhere her friend would go or any reason she would leave without letting anyone know. With every answer, the walls of Tessa’s empty house press in closer and closer.

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of June’s neck.

“Thank you for your help, Ms. Norris,” he says, scribbling away at his notepad, each scratch of his pen grating against her skin. “Please call if you think of anything else, I’ll be in contact.”

It’s a clear dismissal and she’s only too happy to leave. While waiting for the police, she’d wanted to call Emily and Olivia, but it felt wrong with Mason’s dark eyes on her, so they don’t know yet.

Out in the driveway, June unzips her jacket to let the cold evening air chill the sweat that’s soaked through her shirt. Her fingers are numb and it takes her two tries to get Olivia’s number pulled up.

She answers on the second ring. “June? Is Tessa okay?”

“I—I don’t think so.” June’s voice sounds all wrong, like she’s hearing it from the bottom of a well. “She’s missing.”

“Missing? What are you talking about?”

On the other end, June can hear another voice cutting in, probably Emily. She doesn’t know what time it is, if they’re still at the restaurant or driving home, but at least they’re together.

“Can you and Emily meet me at my apartment in fifteen minutes? I’ll explain then.”

“Yeah, we can—we’ll see you then.” Olivia’s voice is shaky but she doesn’t question her further.

As June hangs up, she sees Sheriff Erikson leaving the house, the keys to his car jingling in his hand. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, tucking his thumbs into his belt with a sigh.

“Are you alright?” he asks gently.

“I’m fine.” The lie is a solid mass in her throat, nearly choking her. “What’s the next step to find Tessa?”

He shifts from foot to foot. June’s dad had been an officer here for a few years before his drinking problem started destroying more aspects of his life than just his family. After school, June would go to the station and do homework while waiting for him to finish his shift, often ending up at Sheriff Erikson’s desk for help with math. Right now, he has the same look on his face as when he was about to tell her she’d done the problem completely wrong.

“I’m not even sure she’s missing,” he says, his tone apologetic.

“You’re—what?”

He glances over his shoulder at the dark porch. “There’s no sign of a break in, no sign of a struggle. It looks like she left of her own free will and there’s not much I can do with that. We can look for her, of course, get her name and picture out there, but I have a feeling that she’ll come back when she’s ready.”

His words and blasé attitude aren’t making any sense. Doesn’t he understand that her friend is in trouble? That something is really wrong?

“You don’t understand,” June gets out. “She wouldn’t leave without her purse or her phone. And her car is still here.”

“I’m sorry, June, but if she really wanted to disappear, she’d know better than to take those things with her. Her husband said she can be a bit dramatic and run off to stay with a friend sometimes, this doesn’t seem that out of the ordinary.”

Of course Mason said that.

“She’s never run off like this before. You don’t understand, something isn’t right, I can feel it.”

Sheriff Erikson gives her a sympathetic look and she wants to scream.

“Did he tell you that he’s been having an affair?” she hurries to ask. “Tessa was going to confront him about it and then she vanishes—that can’t be a coincidence.”

He takes out that stupid notepad and writes something down. “No,” he agrees, and for a second, June’s heart leaps in her chest. “I imagine if that’s true, it’s probably why she up and ran away. Infidelity can make people do anything to get away.”

The ground sways beneath June’s feet. “You don’t even care, do you? What if she’s in trouble, or…”

Images flood her mind, of Tessa’s green eyes staring blankly up at her, neck bruised, lips blue. Of blood pooled around her pale body, a final, rattling breath leaving her.

Bile rises in June’s throat. No, she won’t think it. She won’t let herself go there.

Sheriff Erikson steps closer and puts his hand on her shoulder. It takes everything in her not to smack it away.

“Go home, June. Try to relax and let us handle this.”

He gets in his car and drives away but she’s frozen to the ground.

Minutes go by before she can move again, and when she does, she chokes at the scream rising in her throat and turns around to kick the tire of her car. Pain explodes in her foot and brings tears to her eyes but she does it again and again, slamming her hands against the roof.

Tessa would never leave like this, she knows it. She would never leave them in the dark, worried and afraid while she ran off somewhere to pout about Mason. She just wouldn’t.

So what happened to her?

 

~*~

 

All the words that come from his mouth are lies.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything to her. She ran away, you know that. I would never hurt her.”

June’s dad was a cop, he taught her what to look for—darting eyes, rapid blinking, wavering voice. But most importantly, to trust what her gut is telling her.

He’s a liar and he’s not even a good one. Yet, somehow the sheriff believed him when he said he was innocent.

Somehow, he was going to get away with it.

 

~*~

 

“I need to call my mom,” Emily says. She’s curled up in the corner of June’s couch, pale-faced and knees hugged to her chest like a child. “She might know—someone needs to tell her—”

Olivia reaches out to put a hand on her knee but her brown eyes are fixed on June. “What aren’t you saying?” she asks, reading something in June that she thought she was doing a better job keeping hidden.

She swallows, not sure how to put the awful feeling—maybe she should call it a suspicion at this point, but that felt so deliberate—into words. Not sure if she should. Maybe it would be kinder to let her friends think Tessa really had left on her own and would be coming back any time.

But, things were never like that between them. Honesty was one of the things that held their group together for so many years and June had never been much for lying.

“The bleach,” she murmurs, the realization having hit her on the drive to meet them at her apartment. “Her house smelled like bleach.”

“What about it?” Emily sounds close to tears, her voice thick with emotion. She’s twisted a lock of her dark hair around her finger, something she always does when she’s upset or nervous. June can see where the tip is turning purple and swollen.

“You think Tessa cleaned her house before she left?” Olivia asks. “That sounds like her.”

June shakes her head. The words are glass in her throat and saying them out loud is going to cut her open. “I… I don’t think she left. I think she was taken. Or…worse.”

“Worse?”

“If…something happened between her and Mason, if she confronted him about the affair and he lost his temper…” As the words leave June, she wants to snatch them back, stuff them down inside of her, like it will keep them from being true. “If he needed to clean up, he’d use bleach. Everyone knows that.”

She can barely meet the other women’s eyes, the dawning realization in Olivia’s and how Emily now looks more green than pale white.

“June. That’s… What you’re saying is a serious accusation.” Olivia can’t hide the waver in her voice. “Did Mason say something that made you think he… hurt her?”

She doesn’t even want to think back. “He was weird, antsy and defensive. He didn’t care that her purse and phone were still in her office and he… when the sheriff showed up, he started crying. Almost sobbing.”

It sounds crazy to suspect someone for crying but June knows her instincts were right when Olivia’s eyes widen in surprise and Emily chokes out a wet sound.

“Crying? But Mason… He doesn’t…”

“He does when he wants to look like a loving husband whose wife is missing.” June shakes her head. “Crocodile tears. He was faking it.”

Olivia holds up her hand and it’s shaking. “Hold on, just because we’ve never seen him cry before doesn’t mean he was faking. Tessa’s never gone missing before, maybe he—”

“Please,” Emily practically spits out from between clenched teeth. “He doesn’t care about her, he hasn’t for a long time. That bastard did something to her.” Her green eyes are bright and there are two red spots high on her cheekbones. “Tessa would never leave without saying something, we’re all thinking it.”

Silence fills the apartment and it’s cold, like Tessa’s absence has created a void in their group. June’s eyes fall on her ratty orange armchair, the one Tessa always claimed as her spot when they were all over here. She’d sit on it like a throne, shoes off and feet perched on the coffee table, wiggling her toes like she was daring someone to say something.

It’s only been a few hours since June found out she was missing and she already feels like a ghost.

“I have to know,” she says softly. “Sheriff Erikson wouldn’t listen to me, but… I have to know if Mason did it.”

She knows about his history of violence, his fits of rage. Patched holes in the walls and bloody tissues in the bathroom. She promised Tessa she’d never tell, and even now, with her gone, June can’t betray her.

She has to hope that the other signs are enough.

Emily and Olivia glance at each other and June can see a moment of unspoken agreement pass between them.

“What are we going to do?” Olivia asks.

~*~

 

June’s head is pounding behind her eyes. He’s gone quiet, his lies finally stopping as he watches her pace the kitchen. With each step, each slap of her shoe against the hardwood floor, she can hear Tessa’s name in her head like a drum.

She stops and turns to face him. “If you tell me the truth, I’ll let you go.” Her voice is steady, calm, honest. “I promise. I just need to know the truth.”

His eyes narrow but she can tell he’s thinking it through. Weighing his options, calculating in that cold mind of his.

“Fine,” he rasps. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

As he starts to talk, June thinks he could learn a thing or two about lying from her.

 

~*~

 

A woman who is definitely not Tessa opens the door.

She’s blonde where Tessa has midnight dark hair, her features more delicate than Tessa’s strong nose and expressive eyes. Despite the fact that she’s answering the door of a house that isn’t hers, she looks surprised to see them.

“Can I help you?” she asks when she’s met with silence.

“Who are you?” Emily demands from behind June. “What are you doing here?”

“Excuse me?”

Olivia, armed with a foil-covered casserole and an apologetic smile, steps forward. “Sorry, we came to see Mason. We’re friends of Tessa, we just didn’t expect anyone to be here with him.”

June can feel Emily practically bristling behind her. She’s on edge, looking for a fight, but she needs to keep her cool.

“Are you family?” June asks. “I thought Mason’s family was all in California.”

The woman gives her a tight-lipped smile. “Just a friend.”

Interesting.

“Zoe, who is it?” Mason’s voice calls out, and a second later he appears over her shoulder. Something uneasy flashes across his face when he sees them at the door. “Oh, hi, I wasn’t expecting you to—”

“I brought you a casserole.” Olivia lifts it up so he can see. “And we thought you might want some company. Though you obviously already have that covered.”

A tense silence descends over the porch. Mason is very pointedly not looking at Zoe.

Emily clears her throat. “I wanted to get a picture of Tessa… for the missing posters. And the police asked me for her purse, in case there’s anything useful she left in it.”

A lie but her voice doesn’t waver. June reaches back and gives her cold hand a quick squeeze.

Mason hesitates for a brief second. “Of course, come on in.”

When Tessa first bought the house, June had teased her about buying a two-story family home for just her and Mason. They didn’t have kids—Tessa never wanted to be a mom but promised to be the world’s coolest aunt when one of her friends did. But after a while, June realized it was the perfect size for two people who spent most of their time avoiding each other while in it.

She wonders if it feels too big, too empty, now that Tessa is gone, and if that’s why Zoe is here.

Mason takes Emily into Tessa’s office and Olivia sets the casserole down on the kitchen island. They hadn’t factored in another person being here when they planned on coming over, but Zoe proves easy to distract when Olivia asks her how she knows Mason. As much as June would love to stick around and listen to the woman flounder for an answer, it’s the perfect opportunity to slip upstairs.

There’s nothing out of place in the master bedroom, aside from rumpled sheets and an overnight bag that belongs to Zoe, from the looks of the lacy pink bra peeking out of it. Mason didn’t even wait a whole day after reporting his wife missing to invite his mistress over. Surely even doubtful Sheriff Erikson will find that at least slightly interesting.

Tessa was right about the affair. June never doubted her, but she hopes she’ll have the chance to tell her in person that she was right.

Their upstairs bathroom also looks normal, and June takes a second to breathe in the still-lingering smell of Tessa’s perfume. It’s the same scent she’s been wearing since high school, orange blossom and vanilla.

She turns to leave but her eyes catch on the shower curtain, hanging lopsidedly on its hooks. When she pulls it back, she sees that the liner is missing, a few of the hooks bent and broken. Someone had tried to hastily tape them back in place but they didn’t do a good job.

They must have yanked the liner off in a hurry.

On the white shower tile near the rings farthest away, there’s a red smear. No more than a fingerprint.

Nausea hits June out of nowhere and she falls to her knees in front of the toilet just in time, dry heaving into it. Cold sweat gathers in the small of her back as she pukes, sticking her shirt to her skin.

She’s seen enough crime shows to put two and two together.

Making herself stand on quivering knees, she flushes the toilet and runs some water for her hands, trying to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth. When she’d started seeing a therapist after her dad’s alcoholism got worse, Tessa had made her a list of techniques to help her calm down during a panic attack. She carried it in her back pocket all through eighth grade, until she had Tessa’s looping words, written in bright pink pen, memorized.

June can’t remember what she did with the list once she’d memorized it.

Why can’t she remember what she did with it?

A soft knock on the door sends her heart into her throat. What if it’s Mason? She’s not supposed to be up here.

But it’s just Olivia, her eyes concerned.

“Are you okay?”

June nods, knowing she must look like shit. “I still need to check downstairs but… someone ripped the shower curtain off.”

“You think there was a struggle?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Not exactly. I was thinking it had more to do with… cleanup. There’s blood.”

Her friend takes a physical step back, eyes pressed shut. “I’m not—I can’t think about that. Not right now.”

June wishes she had that level of self-control. Her whole night had been filled with dreams of Tessa calling out to her, disappearing underwater, her body laid out on the forest floor with only the trees to watch over her.

“Let’s go back down so I can finish looking around. And I don’t want to leave Emily alone with them.”

Olivia nods, gesturing to the overnight bag as they leave the bedroom. “Did you see this? I can’t believe him.”

June can.

Back downstairs, Mason and Zoe are nowhere to be found, Emily staring blankly at the wall with Tessa’s purse in her hand. She looks hollow, like someone reached in and scooped out everything still keeping her together. Like she’s going to collapse in on herself and disappear at any moment.

“They’re on the back deck,” she tells June and Olivia quietly. “Zoe said she would be staying here and Mason got all pissed. Apparently, he ‘didn’t want me to find out like this’ and he ‘knows how this looks’ but…” She shrugs, a stiff, jerking movement, like a puppet yanked by its strings. “He didn’t try to deny anything. I think he’s just chewing her out for her lack of tact.”

There’s nothing June can say to make it better and she knows it.

“I’ll get you a glass of water,” she settles on, letting Olivia step forward and pull Emily into a hug.

June lets the water run for a second until it gets cold. There’s a cloudy fingerprint on the glass and she wonders if it’s Tessa’s. Is that all that will be left of her, smudged fingerprints and lingering perfume? And in a few days, those will be gone too. What will be left of her then?

Just a smear of her blood in her shower and whatever they find of her body.

The glass slips from her fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor.

“Are you okay?” Olivia calls, and the back door swings open.

“What happened?” Mason demands, closing the door behind him and leaving Zoe outside. Like a dog who misbehaved.

June clenches her hand into a fist. “Sorry,” she mutters, crouching down carefully to pick up the bigger pieces. “I wasn’t paying attention and I—”

She pauses, studying the floor. There was a rug here, in front of the sink. A garish, mustard yellow thing that she and Tessa had found on clearance. Tessa insisted it added some “much-needed sunshine” into their kitchen.

“Where’s the rug?”

“What?” Mason narrows his eyes down at her, and she can’t help but think of how submissive she must look right now, crouched in front of him, head down.

She stands, broken glass forgotten. “The rug that was here, the yellow one. Where is it?”

He’s staring at her like he can’t comprehend what she’s saying.

“The rug. It was right here.” June’s voice is getting louder as she points down at the floor, her ears ringing. “Tessa’s ugly fucking rug that you hated so much. Where is it?”

“Calm down,” he tells her, so dismissive, so annoyed. “Tessa spilled wine on it a while ago and she threw it out.”

He’s lying, she knows it. She knows it.

“I saw it when I was here just the other day.” Now she’s the one who’s lying but he has no way of knowing that and it’s worth it when his face flushes.

“You need to leave.” His hands curl into fists at his sides, a mask of cold calm slipping over his face, and there it is, there’s that anger he keeps so carefully leashed—unless you’re his wife.

June knows that if she stands here for another second, she’s going to do something she regrets. She holds his gaze for a long second, just so he knows that this isn’t a victory, that she isn’t running away.

“Let’s go,” she tells Olivia and Emily as she strides into the living room, knowing they’d been listening. They follow her without a word.

It isn’t until they’re in June’s car, backing out of the driveway, that Emily asks, “What happened? Did you find anything?”

The bleach, the blood, a yanked-off shower curtain liner, a missing kitchen rug—Four terrible, ugly pieces to a puzzle that June had never wanted to put together.

She had wanted to know what had happened to Tessa. She just hadn’t wanted to be right.

“He did it. He killed her.”

 

~*~

 

“I killed her.”

Hearing Mason finally say those words knocks the breath out of June.

She was right.

She waits for the relief, for a sense of peace to come over her, for the closure she’s been so desperately searching for. People always say that the truth will set you free.

But she just feels cold. A brittle, icy shell about to shatter.

It isn’t enough.

His confession means nothing. Tessa is still dead. Mason is still alive.

And June knew when she came to confront him, that couldn’t be how this ended.

 

~*~

 

It’s been two days since June went to see Sheriff Erikson with her newfound evidence. Two days, in which the sheriff made a grand total of one, ten-minute visit to Mason’s home. No arrest was made and June, from the vantage point of her car parked down the street, watched as Sheriff Erikson shook his hand amicably when he left.

She was waiting for him when he pulled into his parking spot at the police station. He got out of his car with a loud suffering sigh.

“I can’t do anything without proof,” he said. “And right now, we don’t even have proof that there was a crime. Without a body—” He cut himself off with a wince.

A body.

“I’m sorry, June, I just mean that women do this kind of thing all the time—”

“Get murdered by their cheating husbands?”

He gave her a warning look. “Run off. Disappear to get some attention, to make their man worry and realize what a bad guy he’s been. I’ve seen it before. I know you don’t want to think that Tessa would do that—”

June walked away before she could hear anything else that came out of his mouth.

Sitting in her car now, for the third night in a row outside of Tessa’s house, she considers his words again. How the man tasked with protecting and serving their town had an easier time accepting that Tessa was the walking stereotype of a dramatic wife than following the evidence that pointed at the husband being responsible for her disappearance.

Since when did justice have such a biased gaze?

It’s getting cold in the car so June zips her jacket up to her chin. The lights are still on in the house even though it’s nearing midnight and Mason is alone. His mistress left a few hours ago—she hasn’t been staying the night since Mason’s family started showing up for support.

What a joke.

Her phone vibrates but she ignores it, letting the text go unread. She’s got several waiting for her from Olivia and Emily, but they don’t know she’s been here, watching Mason instead of sleeping, and she can’t find the strength to tell them.

She doesn’t even know why she keeps coming here, if she’s being honest. To catch Mason in the act if he does anything suspicious? To storm up to his front door and confront him? Because she can’t sleep and this gives her the slightest sense that she’s doing something about Tessa missing?

Dead. She has to keep correcting herself. Tessa is dead.

Her phone vibrates again, then again. Emily is calling her now, at midnight on a Tuesday. The anxiety that’s made its home in her chest these last few days sparks back to life.

She answers the phone. “Emily, it’s late—”

“They found her.” Emily’s voice is thick, broken. “They found Tessa.”

For one stupid, ridiculous second, June thinks she means that they found her, like she was vacationing out of town, having a good laugh as everyone lost their minds. For one second, her heart gives a painful, hopeful lurch.

“Her body,” Emily continues. “They found her in the woods. Out by Crystal Lake. They said she’s—”

Her voice fades out as June’s ears ring.

She knew it. She told them. From the second she was missing; June knew she was dead.

Then why does this hurt so badly? Why does it feel like a black hole has bloomed where her heart was, void and hollow and cold?

She drops her phone in her lap and stares out the window with stinging eyes.

 

~*~

 

“It was an accident,” he tries to tell her.

June can’t help but laugh, a cold, hollow sound that rattles out of her. “That won’t work on me. I know you used to hit her. I know all about your little anger problem, and how you took it out on her. Nothing you can say will convince me it was an accident. You know what I think?” She gets in his face, staring deep into his eyes. “I think she confronted you about the affair. And I think you killed her. You killed her, wrapped her up in the shower curtain, dumped her body like trash, and then came home and cleaned up.”

He’s silent and she knows she’s right.

“She would have given you another chance,” June whispers. “Tessa never would have left you and you killed her anyway.”

 

~*~

 

She ends up in the forest outside of town.

Parking her car on the side of the road, June leaves her headlights on and walks into the dark trees. She breathes in the bitter tang of cold forest air, of wet earth and fresh pine. Holds out her arms to brush her fingers along the leaves and spiderwebs that cling to her skin.

It’s quiet here, the silence almost a physical entity walking alongside her. It guides her through the darkness with a steady, comforting hand, until she stops. She’s far enough.

Slowly, she lies down in the dirt and the moss and the pine needles. The branches rustle overhead, shifting in the wind to give her a peek of the pinprick stars. The whole forest is holding its breath for her.

Was Tessa somewhere in the dirt like this, with the trees and the night sky above her? How long would it have taken for her to grow cold? Was she close enough to the lake that the sounds of the gentle waves against the shore could be heard?

Here in the dark and the quiet, it’s almost peaceful. Not a terrible place for Tessa to rest. She always loved these woods, hiking into the mountains and around the lakes. She said it made her feel young, reminded her of when the world felt wide and open, aching with possibility. Her voice was always wistful when she said it, betraying her head full of romantic ideas.

How did June not realize how trapped Tessa felt?

She knows how. She’d been so obsessed with her own problems—the rumors of her alcoholic father, how her mother leaned heavily on painkillers after the car accident, and her small, insignificant life that she never had the strength to change—that she’d let her best friend live with a husband who abused her. All these years she knew and she let Tessa convince her not to stop it.

If she could, she’d go back to the day of their high school graduation. Tessa hadn’t met Mason yet and she was carefree, beautiful and wild as a thunderstorm. They’d driven out to Crystal Lake after the ceremony and jumped in with their graduation gowns still on. Tessa had clung to June, shrieking hysterically and kicking her feet, her hair like clouds of ink in the water.

“Don’t let go,” she’d squealed. “Don’t let me go, okay?”

If she could, she’d go back and tell Tessa to keep driving once they’d dragged themselves out of the lake and back to her car. She’d tell her to drive straight out of this town, away from the monsters and ghosts. They’d pick up Olivia and Emily and hit the road, start another life.

All they’d ever needed was each other.

But June can’t go back.

This is all she is now—a hollow, spineless woman who failed the best friend who never abandoned her, laying in the cold and wishing she could crawl into the grave with her.

The trees shiver above her, pine needles falling softly on her body like tears. The forest is weeping but June’s eyes are dry.

~*~

 

“You’re wrong,” he says, what feels like an eternity later. He’s grinning up at her, blood staining his teeth. “You think you knew Tessa so fucking well, but you’re wrong.”

She doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of asking but she has to know. “What are you talking about?”

He laughs. “She was going to leave me. That bitch, she was going to take it all. She was dialing the number for our lawyer when I smashed her head in. I wonder how she’d feel, knowing that even now, you didn’t have any faith in her.”

His blow lands, punching a hole right in June’s chest. His laughter follows her as she stumbles into the hallway, air sawing painfully in and out of her lungs.

 

~*~

 

She makes up her mind as she drives back to Mason’s house.

Her life hasn’t been kind to her in a long time. It made her strong, it made her bitter, it showed her the truth—sometimes, the bad guy gets away with it. Sometimes, the one who deserves it isn’t punished.

But this is different. This, she can do something about.

It’s the only house on the street with lights still on and as she parks down the street, she can see Mason’s shadow in the kitchen window. He doesn’t move as she walks through the yard and around the back. The fence they have up is more decorative than functional, weathered white boards that Tessa called “shabby chic” when they put it up. It never bothered her that it was only waist high—this was a safe, small town. What did she have to be afraid of?

She had no way of knowing that she’d already let the monster in.

June pulls herself over it, the fence creaking softly in the night air. As she makes her way to the backdoor on careful feet, she sees Mason through the window, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand.

She pulls her ring of keys from her jacket pocket, holding them tightly so they don’t jingle, and finds the one with pink tape. The lock clicks and the knob turns without a sound, the door opening slowly.

Leaning against the side of the house is a shovel, the worn wood of the handle smooth in June’s hands. She holds it against her body as she slips into the warmth of the house.

Mason doesn’t notice her, his back mostly to her. His hair is damp like he recently showered, and he’s muttering under his breath, singing along with the quiet music coming from the living room. On the counter behind him, there’s a cardboard box.

Watching his back warily, June creeps forward to peer in the box. It’s full of mugs and dishes, and it takes her a few seconds to realize that they’re all Tessa’s. The baby-blue casserole dish from her grandma, her butter crock with the daisy handle. And on top, her favorite mug, a gift from June years ago. The handle is broken like he threw it in the box without a second thought.

Sheriff Erikson had to have called Mason tonight with the news that Tessa’s body was found. At most, it’s been a few hours, and he’s already clearing out her things, finding every bit of her that he can dump in the trash.

He probably did the same to Tessa’s body. Wrapped her up carelessly, and once he found the spot, dropped her like a bag of garbage for anyone to find.

“Mason.”

He spins around at the sound of his name, dropping his mug on the floor. His eyes flash with confusion and surprise when he sees June behind him, flicking from her face to the shovel in her hands and back.

“June? What—”

She’s heard it a thousand times before in her true crime shows, when someone finally snaps—that it felt like they were in a dream, that they can’t remember what happened, that they weren’t in control.

It’s not like that for her. All she feels is determination, an all-consuming sense of rightness, as she brings the shovel down on Mason’s head. And satisfaction, the sweetest thing she’s felt since Tessa went missing, as he falls to the floor out cold.

 

~*~

 

When June can finally breathe again, she’s slumped against the front door. Her vision is blurry and it takes her a second to realize she’s crying. She pulls out her cellphone, staring at the call screen.

This isn’t just about her anymore and she has a choice.

She can call the police, get them here and report his confession. Show them what he did. It would be the right thing to do.

Or she can call her friends, the women who knew and loved Tessa, who would understand that sometimes, justice needs to be taken.

Mason is still laughing in the other room, soft chuckles that burrow their way under her skin.

She dials and lifts the ringing phone to her ear.

 

~*~

 

Olivia and Emily haven’t moved from the kitchen entryway. The clock on the microwave says it’s just after two in the morning but June feels like she’s been here for days.

“He said that he killed her?” Olivia whispers, her eyes swollen and red.

June nods, glancing behind her to where Mason is still tied to his kitchen chair.

“I can hear you,” he says, and has the gall to sound amused. “Why don’t you ask me yourself?”

Olivia opens her mouth, but no sound comes out.

“Why?” Emily’s voice is firm. “Why did you kill her?”

“Didn’t June tell you? Tessa decided to find her backbone after all these years and was going to leave me. I didn’t marry her for her abundance of self-respect so…” He smirks. “‘Til death do us part.”

Emily doesn’t react. She just watches him, staring into the eyes of the monster who murdered her sister.

“What is this then, some kind of girl power thing?” Mason asks. “Here to show that you figured it out? To intimidate me into confessing? The police won’t believe you, there’s no proof that I did anything, I made sure of it.”

Olivia’s hand goes to her mouth like she’s going to be sick. “What are we going to do? June, what are we—”

“You’re going to untie me.” Mason taps his foot against the floor like he’s impatient. “You’ll call the police and when they come to look for proof, they’ll find nothing and I’ll tell them about how you showed up here, broke into my home, and assaulted me. That’s if I don’t decide to kill you first.”

“Are you threatening us?” June demands, her jaw clenched so tightly that her teeth are aching.

“It was easy, you know? Tessa didn’t see it coming. The first hit just stunned her, the second knocked her to the ground. And after that, it got messy but in a satisfying way, you know?” He fixes his gaze on Emily. “You always got on her about what was going on in her head, didn’t you? That was your thing, the bossy, controlling older sister? Well, after the fourth hit, I saw what was inside her head and it wasn’t pretty.”

Emily’s trembling but she doesn’t look away from him. Next to her, tears streak down Olivia’s face.

“You bastard,” she whispers. “You fucking bastard.”

June wants to tell her that it’s pointless, that he’s feeding on their emotions, but this is why she called them, why she brought them here—they deserve to hear it from his mouth.

They need to know why, by the end of the night, he’ll be dead.

“I should have bashed her head in years ago,” Mason muses. “No more nagging, no more constant bitching, and a hefty life insurance check set to come my way. Talk about a win-win.”

“I need to get away from him,” Olivia mutters, stumbling out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“What’s wrong?” he calls after her. “You all wanted the truth, didn’t you? Isn’t that what you said, June? Congratulations, you were right, I’m the big bad wolf.”

June takes Emily’s arm and guides her out after their friend, pausing in the doorway.

“I don’t want to be right,” she tells Mason. “I want Tessa back.”

In the living room, Olivia paces back and forth, arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Why did you bring us here?” she asks June. “What are you planning on doing with him?”

“He’s not going to hurt us.”

Olivia shakes her head wildly. “That’s not—You didn’t answer my question.”

Mason starts whistling from the kitchen, some jaunty, cheerful tune. He truly believes that he’s getting out of this, that he can scare into submission. He thinks they’re that weak.

“Justice,” Emily says quietly, before June can answer. “Justice for Tessa. That’s why we’re here.”

“He’s going to get away with it. He’s right, the police would never pin it on him—You should have heard the sheriff, talking about how Tessa was just a drama queen, running away to punish Mason.” Anger makes her voice shake and June clears her throat. “He’s going to get away with it if we don’t do something.”

“Something like kill him?” Olivia sinks to her knees, like the words are too heavy for her.

June won’t lie to them. “Yes.”

“You’d do that?” her friend squeaks. She looks at Emily for support but she’s silent. “You’d become a killer for him? For the bastard who murdered her?”

“No. For Tessa. For what he did to her and because she wouldn’t be the last. If it’s not us, if it’s not Zoe, it will be some other woman down the road. Men like him…they don’t deserve second chances. A second chance means a second body, a second woman murdered. I’d rather live with his blood on my hands than the blood of another innocent woman.”

Poor Olivia has always wanted to see the best in people. She’s always been the warmest soul in the group, a firm believer in true good. In bringing her here, June showed her a glimpse of the darkness that preys on people like her. She’d pulled back the curtain and there was no taking it back.

“You don’t have to stay here for this, but you both deserved the choice. We all loved Tessa; this justice doesn’t belong to just me.”

“I’m with you,” Emily says without hesitation, and June knew she would. Fierce, protective Emily had made up her mind when she’d first walked into the house.

Olivia hesitates then gets back to her feet. She wipes her nose on her jacket sleeve and tucks her hair behind her ears.

“For Tessa,” she says. “For what he took from us.”

The three of them turn and walk back into the kitchen.

 

~*~

 

Mason’s body disappears quickly, swallowed up by the hungry darkness of the lake in seconds.

The water is calm tonight, gently lapping against the side of the boat as the three women watch him sink. It was Olivia’s idea to put him here, her dad’s boat only a short drive outside of town and the rocks that weigh Mason’s body down easily grabbed from the beach.

Where Tessa got to lay beneath the sky and the trees, kissed by the sun and the stars, Mason could sink into the cold watery depths with only mud and hungry fish to keep him company.

“Rot in hell,” Emily mutters, gazing down at where he vanished into the water.

They wait a few moments longer, until the surface of the lake returns to smooth glass.

“Let’s go.” Olivia is the first to walk away, going back to the front of the boat and starting the engine. The purr of the engine echoes across the water but no one is awake to hear it.

June stares at the spot they dropped him in until her eyes sting and the second she blinks, she loses it. And just like that, Mason Brewer is erased. And the world is all the better for it.

Back on shore, Olivia pauses to look back. She doesn’t move when Emily joins her, wrapping an arm around her waist. They look like they’re holding each other up.

“Did we do the right thing?” she asks.

June walks over to join them. “Tessa would have done it, for any of us.” The gentle breeze carries the truth of her words to her two friends.

Olivia nods, like she just needed to hear the words spoken out loud. It’s too late for second guessing, too late for regret—the three of them are bound together now by the life they took, the life that was taken from them, and the secret they have to keep.

“I’ll meet you back at my apartment,” June tells them, turning towards the road that her car is parked down. She’d driven separately, taking Mason’s body so the other women didn’t have to.

Emily nods, taking Olivia’s arm. “Don’t be too long.”

She won’t be. She needs to get back to her place and park her car before her neighbors wake up. Their alibi is in place—a slumber party at June’s apartment after getting the news of Tessa’s death, something the sheriff is sure to eat up because of course they got together for some wine drinking and crying. And with Mason’s house spotless and devoid of any evidence that they were there, plus his dramatic performance of grief when he reported Tessa missing, June is certain people will be so busy looking at the tragic possibility of him taking his own life, they won’t think to look at anyone else.

They’re safe, she can feel it. And if the day comes where the truth surfaces, she’s ready to take the fall.

June hears Emily’s car start and pull away and she lets herself fall to the beach, rocks bruising her knees. A shuddering, shaking gasp rips free of her chest, rattling what’s left of her heart in her chest. It hurts, it hurts more than anything she’s ever felt.

She can live with what they’ve done, but she doesn’t know how to live without Tessa.

Now that she’s free to let herself cry, it’s messy, it’s ugly, it rips her open raw. She’d had this strange feeling that if she didn’t cry for Tessa, if she didn’t let herself truly feel her loss, it would mean she was still alive. Like she could keep her friend alive through sheer stubbornness and force of will.

But she’s dead. She’s dead, but Emily and Olivia are alive. They’re alive and they need June. Tessa would never forgive her if she walked away from them, not now, not ever.

She had killed for Tessa. And now she was going to figure out how to live for Emily and Olivia.

Across the lake, the faintest glow of the rising sun peeks through the trees.