Page 282 of Faking the Goal

TAYLOR

By the time Detective Matthews arrives, the rest of the house has emptied for morning classes.

Luke and Liam linger in the kitchen, pretending not to eavesdrop while Cody busies himself making coffee, but the moment the detective steps through the front door, Kentaro quietly suggests we talk outside.

The three of us settle onto the back deck overlooking the lake. The morning is bright and calm—a cruel contrast to the heaviness sitting in my chest.

Detective Matthews pulls out a small notebook.

"You said on the phone that you remembered something about the person who's been stalking you," he says. "Take your time and tell me what you remember.

I glance at Kentaro before taking a slow breath.

"I... I remembered who he is."

The detective's pen stills.

His expression hardens, though his voice remains calm.

"Go on."

"He was my foster brother named Charlie."

For a long second, he doesn't interrupt me.

Instead, he lets me tell him everything.

About the foster family.

About being six years old.

About Charlie.

About Snowy.

About the months of abuse I had buried so deeply that I forgot they had ever happened.

My hands are already clasped tightly in my lap, but they begin trembling anyway. Kentaro notices immediately and reaches beneath the table, threading his fingers through mine.

"He told me he'd find me again." My fingers close harder around Kentaro's.

Saying it out loud brings the words back in his voice, so clear that for one awful second I am no longer sitting on the deck in the morning sun. I am six years old again, looking at a boy I once trusted while he smiles at me like my fear belongs to him too.

I blink hard and pull myself back.

Detective Matthews writes something down, then lifts his eyes to mine again. "Do you remember the family's last name?"

The question makes my stomach sink. I shake my head.

"The town? A street name? What Charlie looked like?"

"No." Shame creeps hotly up my neck, and I hate it even though I know I shouldn't. "I'm sorry I can't give you any useful information."

The detective closes his notebook with a measured nod.

"Miss Lewis..." His voice is steady. "First, I need you to know you've given us more today than we've had this entire investigation."

I blink at him.