“But you don’t even know why I’m here.”
He laughed dryly. “It doesn’t matter. I have nothing to say.”
“Fair enough. You know your rights and can go back to your cell.” Carmine turned to leave when the agent sighed exaggeratedly. “I just wanted to talk about a girl named Haven.”
Carmine’s heart pounded rapidly at the mention of her, the ache in his chest intensifying. “Why?”
“Her name came up a few times during the investigation,” he said. “I tried locating her, but there’s barely any evidence she exists. It’s as if she’s a ghost.”
Carmine balked at the word. “Why are you asking me?”
“I figure if you help me, I can help you.”
“I don’t need your help,” he said. “There’s nothing I can tell you.”
“You can’t tell me who she is?”
“No.” He desperately wished he fucking could.
“Strange. We made a trip to your hometown yesterday, and the people there are under the impression she’s your girlfriend. I even came across this while I was there.” He reached into his briefcase for a piece of paper, and Carmine’s knees went weak when he saw it was the picture Haven had drawn for him, her name neatly written in the corner. “Does that jog your memory?”
“Fuck you.”
“Where is she?” he asked. “She’s not in Durante, and she wasn’t with you in Chicago. One of the only other people this girl seems to talk to is a boy named Nicholas Barlow, who coincidentally is also missing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Special Agent Cerone was undeterred. “Did something happen to your girlfriend? You can tell me. I’m here to help—”
“You aren’t here to help. You don’t give a shit about me.”
“Did she run off with Nicholas?” he asked. “Did she choose him over you?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is she dead?”
He recoiled from his statement. “No.”
“Is Nicholas dead?”
“Are you accusing me of something?”
He shook his head. “As I said, I want to help.”
“There’s nothing you can do for me.”
“If she’s missing or has been hurt—”
“I want my lawyer.”
“Fine.” Agent Cerone stuck the drawing back into his briefcase. “You know, the truth always prevails. At the end of the day, the truth is what sets you free.”
48
Time drifted by in a haze, like curls of smoke obstructing Haven’s surroundings. She would come to the surface to find food waiting, and she would eat what she could stomach before slipping back under. Jen appeared a few times with Nunzio to check her vitals but never spoke a word. In fact, people were always in and out of the building, but no one acknowledged her except for Natalia. She would bring her fresh clothes and offer words of encouragement, helping her up whenever she needed to use the bathroom.
Each day grew progressively worse. Haven’s strength diminished as her body began to reject everything. She would vomit profusely whenever she tried to eat, her skin clammy and pale. A pounding in her head made it hard to focus, everything becoming a blur of nothingness.