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“We know you’re not very old,” Linda said. “But you do know where babies come from, right?”

Kitty stopped chewing. She nodded, thinking of what had happened over the past few months, then ate more of the delicious food.

“Okay, good. That’s good,” Linda said. “Because the reason why we’re bringing you this food, is that we believe that you…” she paused almost tearing up.

Kitty didn’t quite understand why she was getting emotional, so she frowned.

Linda cleared her throat. “Remember how we had you pee on that stick? Well, it came out positive. We believe that you are pregnant.”

Kitty stared at her, food still in her mouth. She swallowed what was in there and the big lump struggled all the way down.

“Here, have some water,” Damian said when she began to cough.

Tears sprang to Kitty’s eyes, and she drank from the bottle of water. She took in a deep breath and her nostrils were filled with the stench from the bucket in the corner where she was to relieve herself. The taste of piss and feces came in her mouth, and she wanted to throw up, but bit it back.

She knew what being pregnant meant. Her mom had talked about it when Aunt Jane had been knocked up, as she called it. By some bastard, she’d said, who wouldn’t even recognize the child. And then she had to raise the child all by herself. And she also knew she hadn’t been bleeding for the past three months but thought nothing of it. Damian had been coming to her every day, and she had let him. Because that meant getting food, and he would also sometimes bring her candy, if she was extra good to him and let him lie on top of her, even if it hurt.

Damian stroked her gently across the hair. “I’m so proud of you, Kitty. I really am. I can’t wait to see what our baby will look like. I’m sure it will be beautiful just like you.”

FORTY-SEVENBILLIE ANN

The dream started out as a nightmarish blur that slowly became clearer. I was walking home along the same route I used to take, back years ago when I was a young detective. But something felt off. I had the distinct feeling that I was being watched, and I began to feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I quickened my pace, but it felt like I was going nowhere. It was almost like the faster I tried to go, the slower I went.

Suddenly I was in a strange room, and I was being pinned down by someone I knew. I felt helpless, unable to move or fight back as he touched me. I could feel tears streaming down my face as I screamed for help, but no one could hear my voice. No one came to rescue me.

Time seemed to stand still as I struggled, and I felt a deep emptiness wash over me. I felt trapped, like I would never be able to escape this nightmare. I wanted to wake up, but I was stuck in an endless loop of despair and hopelessness. I begged him to stop, to leave me alone.

Next, I was walking through an unfamiliar city when I stumbled on a crime scene. On the ground, in a ditch, was a body, lifeless and cold. The body was crumpled and mangled in a way that was unmistakably unnatural. I knew who he was but couldn’t remember his name.

Around his neck was tied a belt with a shiny buckle.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my body trembling and my heart pounding. As I lay there in my bed, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. It hadn’t been real. It had only been a dream. I kept telling myself.

It was just a dream.

But then it overwhelmed me. I started to shake heavily, and tears streamed across my face, soaking my pillow. I could barely breathe and sat up straight, hoping it would calm me down, but little did it help. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore, I got out of bed, grabbed my phone and called my best friend Danni. She was sleeping, of course, so it went to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message.

I couldn’t say anything, I simply couldn’t get the words across my lips, so I just cried helplessly.

I walked downstairs and outside to the porch swing, and I sat down.

I had finally stopped crying and was able to just sit there and try to shake the dream. My dream had been different from what really happened, but some of it was very similar. Like the feeling of being helpless, of feeling frozen and unable to move. Because of who he was. The feelings still sat with me if I let them, if I was alone and didn’t keep busy. That’s why I always made sure I had stuff to do. I couldn’t stand feeling those feelings. I couldn’t stand thinking about what had happened.

But what really bothered me about the dream was that it wasn’t just about the rape. It was also about this case. It was getting to me.

You know why.

I exhaled. I did know why. Because it reminded me of the first case I ever worked on, back when I was starting out as a detective in the small town of Ridge Manor. The disappearance of a young girl. It was never solved because then everything happened, and I was suspended, and I was moved to another homicide department in another city. The case became a cold case because of it. She was never found.

“It’s the belt buckle,” I said into the night. “I forgot about it.”

I know what I must do.

I stared into the darkness of the night, my hands growing clammy at the very thought. I knew exactly what I had to do, and it terrified me more than anything.

FORTY-EIGHTBILLIE ANN

I can do it. Billie Ann, I can do it.

I took a turn at the light and found myself driving down the main street of downtown Ridge Manor. I didn’t feel good at all. I felt terrible. My stomach was in knots, and my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly out of an instinctive sense of dread. I felt my heart race in my chest, and my breathing became ragged the closer I got to my destination. I tried not to focus on the task ahead.

Don’t overthink this. Just do it and do it fast.

The town looked the same. Nothing much had changed since I was there last. Still same old empty streets, an occasional dead racoon or armadillo on the side of the road after being hit by a car, and pickup trucks passing me carrying cages for hog hunting in the back. When I was younger, I would go hunting in the swamp that the town bordered. I once caught a ten-foot gator and sold the meat to Daisy at the Southern Harmony Café, where we always went for lunch when on duty.

As I took the next turn, I could see the swamp in the distance, and my unease grew rapidly with each passing street corner. I felt my grip tighten around the steering wheel, and my knuckles turned white.

I had never thought I would be back here again.

I had bought a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups for the ride, and now I took the last one in the bag. I was stress eating. My mom would kill me if she saw me. She had always been on my case about my stress eating. I sighed when thinking of her. I hadn’t talked to her since I had thrown her out of my house. I missed her but didn’t really want to talk to her. She had really hurt me with her comments, and it was hard to get back from there. I wondered where my dad was in all this. Probably staying out of it as much as possible, as usual. He didn’t want to get involved in our family drama, and I couldn’t blame him.

Even if I could use his support in all this. But I knew my mom was in his ear about it and he would be betraying her if he showed me support. My dad had never been good at standing up to my mom, so I didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

But I couldn’t focus on my family problems right now. I had a job to do. I pulled into the parking lot of an old two-story house with a wraparound porch and a big magnolia tree in the front yard. It had been there since the beginning of the nineteen hundreds, and the story was told that they used to lynch people from it. It gave me the creeps. Always had. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and stepped out of the car.

The heat hit me like a ton of bricks, and I immediately regretted not wearing shorts instead of jeans. I took a deep breath and looked around, letting my eyes scan the area. I didn’t see anyone I knew, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching me. This town had eyes everywhere. Nothing went unnoticed.

Not even a visit from one of its former cops.

Are sens

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