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Then the door banged open behind me. I flinched. For a second, I thought the world had split in two—a shadow falling across the lobby, tall and broad and wrong.

“Please, no,” I whispered, voice cracking.

A man stumbled in, face wild and tear-streaked, hair mussed, hands trembling. Malakar.

He looked worse than I’d ever seen him. Cheeks hollow, eyes red-rimmed and wild, clothes still spotted with my blood. His voice was cracked and frantic as he rushed to the counter.

“My wife!” he gasped, searching the room, voice breaking. “My wife, have you seen her? She’s sick—she ran off, she needs help, please—you have to help me⁠—”

I froze, terror icing my veins. I wanted to run, to scream, but my body was made of stone.

Doris’s eyes darted to Malakar, then to me, suspicion flickering. The sheriff straightened up, a frown settling on his face. “Settle down, son. Who are you looking for?”

Malakar’s eyes found mine. His face crumpled, relief and desperation warring in his features. He played it perfectly. His voice broke, his hands shook, he looked like a husband in agony. “Starla—Starla, oh my god, I’ve been looking everywhere for you—” He rushed toward me, but Doris stepped between us.

“Hold on, sir,” she said. “She’s talking to us right now. You need to give her some space⁠—”

He rounded on her, voice rising, frantic. “You don’t understand. She’s not well, she’s been having episodes, she thinks I’m someone else, she’s off her medication, she’s confused, she doesn’t even know who I am half the time, please, I just need to take her home, get her safe, please, she needs help.”

I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “No. No, he’s lying. He kept me chained, he—he killed people, I saw⁠—”

The sheriff barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Starla, is this your husband?”

“No! He’s not—he’s⁠—”

Malakar’s voice was soft and broken. “Starla, sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe now. You had one of your episodes, remember? You ran out, you thought I was someone else, you—” He turned to the sheriff, all pleading sincerity. “She gets like this sometimes. It’s her medication. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

My heart pounded, roaring in my ears. I tried to speak, but my tongue was thick, useless. “No, don’t listen to him, he’s lying, I swear—please⁠—”

The sheriff stood and walked around the desk, looming over me. “Starla, you want to calm down and tell us what’s really going on here?”

I stared at him, wild. “He’s dangerous, please, you have to believe me!”

Malakar stepped closer, his hand reaching for mine. I jerked away, but Doris’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, holding me in the chair.

“She’s always like this when she’s off her meds,” Malakar said, his gaze locked on the sheriff. “I just want to take her home. Let her rest. I can show you the prescription bottles, the records. Please, just let me take her home.”

The sheriff grunted, looking at Doris as if for backup. Doris hesitated, glancing at me, then at Malakar. I saw the hope die in her eyes, replaced with weariness.

“She did seem pretty upset, Matthew,” she said quietly. “Maybe we should call someone—mental health, maybe⁠—”

“She’s just confused,” Malakar insisted, voice trembling with manufactured devotion. “She’ll be okay once she’s home. Please.”

I shook my head, panic rising like a tide. “Don’t let him take me, please, he’ll kill me, I swear, he’ll kill me!”

The sheriff sighed, exasperated. “Look, I don’t know what kind of lover’s spat you two had, but this is a police station, not a therapy office. If you want to press charges, Starla, you’re going to need more than some story about bones and jars. You got proof of anything you claimed?”

My whole body was shaking. “He keeps the proof in the house, please, just look!”

Malakar’s hand landed on my shoulder, leashing me with a single touch. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home. You’re safe with me.”

Doris murmured, “Maybe we should⁠—”

The sheriff cut her off with a glare. “Enough, Doris. Let the man take his wife home. If she’s got a medical condition, it’s not our business.”

I screamed. A thin, broken sound, birdlike and useless. “No! No, please, don’t let him—please⁠—”

Malakar tightened his grip, his thumb digging into my flesh, a warning behind the smile. “Shh, bluebird, you’re scaring everyone. Let’s go home.”