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“I hid,” I say instead.

The detectives exchange a look.

“And then?” Detective Warren asks.

“When they left, I did too. I went home, grabbed some things I’d need, and ran.”

“Why didn't you call the police?” Detective Thane asks.

I stare at him.

Because the police were the ones standing in his house.

How do I tell them that without telling them that?

“Because I was scared,” I repeat. It’s the safest thing I can say.

“You keep saying that,” Detective Thane says, this time slightly more rough.

“Because it's the truth.”

For a moment, neither man says anything. They just watch me.

Then Warren speaks.

“Raewyn, we're trying to find out who killed Theodore. Anything you can tell us could help. I know you were close, and we’re just trying to solve this case.”

Tears sting my eyes. I still haven’t accepted that he’s dead. I’ve been so worried about hiding and surviving—and then my heat. I haven’t had time to think about. Images of him dead on the floor haunt my nightmares, but knowing I’ll never see him again? Never hug him again? Never bring him food again? It hasn’t quite sunk in.

“I didn't kill him,” I whisper. “He was like a brother to me. I would never hurt him.”

“I believe you,” Detective Warren says.

The other one looks at him sharply.

And for some reason, those three words make my chest ache more than anything he's said. Because I don’t know if I can trust him, even if my body is telling me to. Now he’s telling me he believes me…

Detective Thane opens his mouth to say something, but I quickly cut him off.

“I’ve told you everything I know. Can you leave now?”

He snaps his mouth shut, giving me a look like he’s surprised I’d talk to him like that.

“Yes,” Detective Warren says. “Thank you for trusting us.”

I watch as he stands, then nudges the other one, who looks like he doesn’t plan on moving an inch. If this were any other situation, things between us could be different. We’re a scent-match, and yet here we are… Me afraid of them. Them thinking I had something to do with a murder.

Detective Warren steps toward me, digs into his pocket, and pulls out a small card.

“If you remember anything, or if something happens that makes you feel unsafe, call me. Directly.”

I stare at the card, then look up at him.

“Why would I call you?”

He pauses.

“Because I want to help you, Raewyn.” He urges the card toward me, so I take it. My heart is racing.