Chapter 16: The Cuff

"He washed his hands until the water ran cold," Skylar said.

She was still sitting on the step, and her voice had gone flat.

"Then he took off his shirt and told me to throw it out. He put on one of my uncle's old ones from the closet."

"Did you throw it out?" Knox asked.

"I couldn't." She looked at her knees. "I put it in a bag. I told myself it was grief."

"Where is it?" I said.

"Upstairs."

She stood up and went into the house without another word, and we followed her as far as the front hall.

Her uncle was in the kitchen doorway with a dish towel in his hands.

He took one look at her face and sat down at the table.

She came back down with a paper grocery bag folded over at the top.

She knelt and opened it on the hall floor, in front of my wheels.

It was a man's blue dress shirt, wrinkled and stiff.

Skylar lifted the left cuff in two fingers.

It was stained dark brown from the button to the seam.

"He said it was your blood," she said. "From when he pulled you out."

"Then it can be tested against mine," I said.

"And it may not be mine," Knox said quietly. "It may be Teddy's."

Skylar flinched and put the cuff down.

"There's more." She took out her phone and scrolled with a thumb that wasn't steady. "I didn't tell you he texted me too, after he called."

She turned the screen toward me.

At 11:36 p.m.: Closed station on Marsh Rd. Please come alone. Please hurry.

At 11:41: I see you. Thank you.

At 1:05 a.m.: Delete this. Tell no one you picked me up. They'll say I abandoned her.

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