The next morning felt wrong. Not because of the storm, though the rain still painted the windows of Centralia like tears refusing to stop falling, and not because the sky looked dead, gray clouds hanging over the town like something terrible had already happened. It felt wrong because for the first time in years, Helen felt unfamiliar to me. I sat inside the sheriff's station on a cold metal chair, staring at the ticking clock hanging above the doorway. Every second felt louder than the last. Sheriff Dawson stood across from me with his arms folded, watching me like he was trying to solve a puzzle. His face looked tired, but there was something else hidden behind his expression—suspicion.
"You're still saying you were with Helen?" he asked, his voice calm but sharp enough to make my stomach tighten.
"Yes," I answered quickly. "We were at Ezel's party."
He leaned against the desk and sighed. "Funny thing is, nobody remembers seeing you two leave together."
My chest felt heavy. "That's impossible," I said, trying to sound certain even though doubt had already started creeping into my mind. "She told me we should go home. I walked her to her house."
Without saying another word, Sheriff Dawson opened a file and pushed a photograph toward me. At first, I didn't understand what I was looking at. Trees. Mud. Police tape tied around branches like warning signs in the middle of nowhere. Then I noticed the shape under the white sheet.
A body.
Something cold moved through my body. I looked away for a second before my eyes landed on something near the edge of the photograph. A silver bracelet covered in dirt. A tiny moon charm hanging from it.
My breathing stopped.
I knew that bracelet.
Helen wore it almost every day.
"No…" I whispered before I could stop myself.
The sheriff noticed immediately. "What is it?"
"That bracelet," I said quietly, my voice shaking. "It belongs to Helen."
His expression darkened for a second before he stood up from his chair. "Stay here," he said firmly.
The door closed behind him, leaving me alone with the sound of rain tapping against the windows. My thoughts twisted into something ugly. Nothing made sense anymore. Why would Helen lie? Why would her bracelet be near a dead body? Maybe she dropped it accidentally. Maybe there was some explanation. There had to be. Helen wasn't the type of person who hurt people. She was soft, kind, alive in a way this town never was. She smiled at strangers. She laughed too loudly. She hated thunderstorms and held onto people when lightning struck. A girl like her couldn't be connected to something this dark.
A soft creak interrupted my thoughts.
The station door opened.
And there she was.
Helen.
Standing in the doorway like nothing had happened.
Her sweater looked too bright for a place like this, almost glowing against the dull colors of the station. Rainwater still clung to her hair, and for one dangerous second, I forgot everything. The body. The sheriff. The lies. The bracelet. It was just Helen, standing there like always.
Her eyes met mine, and she smiled softly.
But this time, something about it felt different.
"Helen?" I stood up too quickly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Why did you lie?"
Her smile faded almost instantly. "What are you talking about?"
"The sheriff said you told them you were home all night."
For a moment, her expression changed. It happened so quickly I almost missed it—a flicker of fear, or guilt, or something darker. Then she looked down.
"I was scared," she said quietly.
"Scared of what?"
Before she could answer, Sheriff Dawson walked back into the room. The second he saw Helen standing there, his expression hardened.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
Helen frowned. "Why?"
The sheriff hesitated like he was deciding whether to say something he couldn't take back.
Then he sighed.
"The body found in the woods," he said slowly, "was Ezel."
The room became unbearably quiet.
"And according to witnesses," the sheriff continued, his eyes fixed on Helen, "the last person seen arguing with him… was you."
Thunder crashed outside so loudly the windows shook.
I turned toward Helen slowly, my heart beating harder than it ever had before.
"Helen…"
For the first time since I met her—
She looked terrified.