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Carson peers at my lips. I tilt my head up. He kisses me softly. For a moment, all my worries fade away. Everything is better when he’s near, which is probably not healthy because we just started dating, but I don’t care. He leans back and presses his lips on my forehead. “I’m so proud of you, baby,” he whispers. “Whatever happens, I’m here.” I grab his chin, lowering his head so I can give him one last kiss, just because he’s such an amazing person, and I actually get to kiss him now.

I tug him towards the door, taking a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, then open the door. There are more police officers than I thought there would be. They all look at me when I step into the room. One guy steps forward. I remember him from fifteen years ago. He was in the hospital. He was nice, a lot nicer than Officer Kane. He shakes my hand.

“I’m Officer Jameson. I don’t know if you remember me.”

“I do. You have twins, right? A boy and girl.”

He smiles nodding, veering his eyes toward Carson.

“This is my boyfriend, Carson.” Carson’s hand slacks in my grip, then tightens, and he steps closer to me, his other hand reaching out toward Officer Jameson, shaking it. “Is it okay if he stays close?”

“As long as he doesn’t touch anything or intervene…I think that would be alright.” I squeeze Carson’s hand tighter, gazing around the room. It’s exactly like it was fifteen years ago. “I don’t know if the other officers told you this already…” He starts, “But we changed everything back to how it was fifteen years ago, including the bedroom.”

I suck in a breath. Carson freezes beside me. “We hope it brings back memories you didn’t remember before, but you can always back out if you don’t want to see it.”

I do remember everything. Every memory plays like a movie in my head, over and over again. I’m supposed to walk into that bedroom, covered in my blood? In Mickey’s blood?

My stomach churns. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I sway on my feet. I can’t do this. Fuck I can’t do this. “It’s okay, baby,” Carson soothes, pulling me into his arms. I lay my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “You don’t have to do this. We can go home, okay? We can go home, lay in bed, or work on that new puzzle you got. We don’t have to do this.” His voice is soft and so gentle, as he murmurs the words in my ear, while stroking my back. I shake my head. I have to do this. I have to, for Micah. I pull away from the embrace, squaring my shoulders. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready, and that’s the problem. It won’t happen if I don’t do it now. We near the door, the door I’ve opened countless times, the one I closed and never opened again until now. I turn back to Carson.

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Leave. If it gets too hard for you, please leave. I don’t want this to hurt you.”

He shakes his head, cupping my cheeks, tilting my head up. “I will never leave you.” I open my mouth to interject, but he continues, “You went through this trauma all on your own. I can handle it. I promise, baby.” His lips touch mine in a short peck, his arms falling to his sides, then he grabs my hand in a firm grip.

I close my eyes, counting to ten, then open the door. A choked gasp spills from my lips. Tears form in my eyes. The room is dark except for the blue luminescent glow that’s covering the entire room. Blood. I realize. They had cleaned the original blood years ago, but they have used something so you can see it again. It’s everywhere, covering the floors, the walls, even our beds. Our bed sheets are nicely tucked into the mattress, covered in brown stains. I had no clue we bled so much. I stand near the doorway and put on the blue shoe covers. And step into the room with trembling hands.

“Alexis,” Officer Stanton says gently. “You can start whenever you’re ready.”

“At the beginning?”

“Yes, the first thing you remember.”

I take a few deep breaths, my voice shaking as I start.

“We were sleeping, and I woke up because my throat was hurting. He was standing in the room, holding something, and it was dripping. He walked over to me, he uhm—he called me a stupid brat, and then, my stomach was hurting too, and the knife was dripping again.”

My breath stutters, hands turning clammy. “I wanted to stop him, but my body was too tired, and he walked over to Micah, who was sleeping. He was lying on his back. He always slept on his back. And I must have passed out, because when I woke, he was red. I thought it was paint. I wanted to ask him why he was covered in paint. I kept blacking out, then the firefighters came. They brought me out. There was a firefighter who held my hand in the ambulance. The last thing I remember is that I woke up in the hospital.” I face Carson, who’s smiling at me proudly, quickly wiping his tears away.

“That’s really good, Alexis,” Officer Stanton praises, writing something down on a notepad.

“Did you ever hear him mention any names while you were living there?”

“No, we were pretty secluded. He was always home.”

“He didn’t go to work?”

“No, he said he had his own business, but that was closed for the summer.”

“Okay.” he scrabbles something down again.

“You said you passed out when he went over to Micah. So you didn’t see him get hurt?” I shake my head repeatedly, clenching my fingers into fists so hard, my nails are puncturing my skin. “No, I must have passed out from the blood loss.”

“You didn’t hear Micah talk, or hear him say anything?”