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Allie doesn't believe the car crash that caused her amnesia was an accident. She knows the truth...
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WE SIT IN the car silently, parked around the corner from Seymour Avenue. I stare at an empty spot on the street blankly, trying to control my breathing. I fidget with the hem of Parker's hoodie, which he leant me so I wouldn't have to wear my blood-stained raincoat.
The boy himself sits in the driver's seat, his head in his hands as he curses under his breath. I close my eyes, feeling a wave of nausea pass over me. He curses again, louder this time, lifting his head and bringing a hand down on the steering wheel sharply. I can't help but flinch at the sudden movement, bringing me out of my trance.
"What the hell?," he finally asks, his voice wavering. "Why haven't you told anyone?"
"Who am I supposed to tell when everyone I know is lying to me?" I return quietly.
He gives a short laugh of disbelief. "We're not lying to you, we just know the wrong truth."
I lift a shoulder, looking away.
Parker is quiet for a few moments, mulling over my revelation. He'd been rendered completely speechless when I first confessed my suspicions, and it's taken him a while to wrap his head around the idea of it. I don't blame him, I'm still struggling myself.
"Who do you think did this to you?" he asks, gentler now.
I shake my head. "I don't know." I refrain from telling him about the nightmares, or the diary.
He leans back against his seat, looking agitated, his fingers thrumming on his thigh rapidly. "We need to go to the police. The person who did this to you could still be out there, and they need to be stopped." His voice is filled with determination, but then he sighs, looking at me with guilt-ridden eyes. "I would've never moved out if I knew this was going on. I should be there—"
"Stop," I say forcefully, though I keep my eyes on the street. He freezes, taken aback. I wait a few moments, wishing I could rewind time and take back my words. "I'm not your responsibility, Parker. And it's just a theory. I'm probably losing my mind."
"You can't be serious," he says after a weighted silence, voice teetering on the edge of insanity. "After what I just saw and what you just told me, you cannot be serious."
"I am," I confirm.
Dragging a hand over his face, he pauses. "This is ridiculous."
"I shouldn't have come to see you," I say, angling myself toward him in my seat, hearing the splatter of a few stray raindrops on the windshield. The movement causes my side to sting slightly, but I ignore it. I haven't forgotten the way he looked at me outside of the restaurant, as if we were something that we aren't. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry. But when I get out of this car, that's it. It's over."
The air becomes heavy as the reality of my words sets in. A pained expression takes hold of his face, his eyes becoming shiny, and theatrically, the rain picks up outside the walls of the car.
