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He’d kill for her, and she had killed his stepdad, who molested him when he was young.

“When will we get the results?” Asher asked, shifting from foot to foot.

“It might take a few days. I have to mail it to New York.”

We searched the room again before walking to the kitchen.

“Didn’t Riley write about some kind of tea?” I asked, pulling open the kitchen closets. Once again, they were all empty. He was so fucking good at this.

“Diya, take a look at this,” he said, pointing to the wooden floor. There was a spot of white in the brown wooden floorboards.

I bent down and took the scalpel from inside the bag. I scratched the powder from the floor.

“We’ll send it too,” I said, zipping the plastic bag closed. We checked the whole cabin once again, just to be sure, but there was nothing else.

“Let’s go.”

Asher rubbed his finger against his forehead. “I feel like he might slip past us before we get closer.”

“We won’t let him. No one even knew he existed. We know now. We’ll stop him. We have to.”

I was thinking of Millie when we drove back, thinking of all the girls who came after her, before Riley.

“Can we eat something before we go back?” Asher asked, looking at me with tired eyes. “Mia’s Gravy. I’m craving something greasy.”

“Okay,” I said, swerving around, and heading toward the diner.

“We should look into the girls who committed suicide after Millie. Might give us a lead,” Asher said after a few minutes of silence.

“Yeah,” I said, parking the car in front of Mia’s Gravy.

The solemn look in his eyes was immediately replaced by eagerness. He looked excited to be here. This must be his first time back in a long while. He stepped out, eyes flickering from side to side, taking everything in.

“I used to come here all the time with Riley and…” He trailed off. “She loved their fries. We always sat in the same booth. She’d play ‘Sweet Caroline’ every single time.” He closed his eyes, his smile breaking at the edges.

People turned to look at us as soon as we walked in. When they saw Asher, they waved, smiling.

“Asher? How are you, boy?” A woman asked, looking at him. Asher stayed silent.

“Oh, he isn’t really…” I looked at Asher, and he gave me a nod. “I’m his doctor. This is a part of his treatment.”

“Treatment?” a woman asked, looking at Asher. “We went to school together.” She gave him a half smile, eyes wistful.

The place wasn’t crowded. A few booths sat empty, scattered along the row. But Asher walked straight to the very last one.

“She has a crush on you,” I whispered when we sat down. Asher glared at me, grabbing a menu from the table that was stained with red ketchup. “What? I’m not lying. She wants to sleep with you.”

“I don’t want to sleep with her,” he said, staring straight at me. “I only want to fuck you.”

“Be still my heart. This man… such a romantic,” I scoffed, opening the menu. “What do you want to eat?”

“Burger,” he said. “And fries, and you. Always you.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed.

When the waitress came, I ordered two burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Ten minutes later, our food came.