The Editor's Choice by Hannah France

Author:Hannah France [France, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Jade

He didn’t run.

That’s the first coherent thought running through my mind when I finish retelling the story of that night.

I told him every horrid thing I did, all the gruesome details I could remember, and not once did he offer to run or tell me I’m a monster or threaten to go to the police.

I told him everything, and he chose to stay.

The reality of that hits me hard, knocking the air from my lungs. There’s gotta be something wrong with this guy’s head, I think.

“So that’s it?” he asks, hands steepled in his lap, eyes focused on the tips of his fingers as they press together.

“Yeah. Basically,” I confirm, too ashamed to even attempt to look up at him.

“Why did you cry to me that night in your apartment? Tell me all about your best friend being murdered and the cops not doing shit to find the killer? You’re either a hell of an actor, or something isn’t adding up here,” he counters.

“Honestly? I was drunk and in complete denial,” I say, determined to lay everything out on the table. He already knows what I did. There’s no sense in hiding anything now. “At that point, none of the details were clear to me. I had blocked every memory as soon as it happened apparently. It wasn’t until I started having the nightmares that the pieces started to click for me,” I explain, shuddering at the thought of those damned nightmares. They’ve been haunting me almost every night since the murder.

“Nightmares?” he asks, eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah. A couple nights after all that, I started having recurring nightmares about what I did. They’ve gotten more clear as time goes on, but there are still fuzzy details in there.”

“So that night at the apartment? It was sincere? You really didn’t know who had killed her then?” he asks, sounding skeptical for the first time. Hell, I can’t even blame him for that one.

“Hand to God, I didn’t remember at that point. Until the dreams came, I sincerely thought Dawson had killed her. He was acting super sketchy about everything after she was found. It made sense that he would have done it. Or at least that’s what I thought then,” I shrug, not knowing what else to say.

“Fuck. That’s a lot to take in,” he sighs, leaning back into the couch, exhaustion etched across his face.

“I’m still trying to figure it out myself,” I confess. “Sometimes I want to go turn myself in, get it off my conscience. But other times,” I pause, shrugging.

“I don’t think anyone could blame you, given the circumstances. The bitch was trying to sell you for fuck’s sake! If we could prove it, it’s easily a case of self-defense in my opinion. Self-preservation really, I guess,” he adds easily. “Anyone would have done the same if they were in your shoes, whether they’ll admit to it or not.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but that wasn’t it. I’ve

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