Memories From a Dead Girl

Later that night, after Chloe had left again, a guard took Austin to a small room with a chair, table, and told him to sit. He did, and I stayed in the corner of the room, observing.

But what did it matter if I watched? It's not like anyone could see or hear me.

I might as well not exist, and I didn't, not really.

Austin may or may not have made sure of that.

I closed my eyes and listened as the door opened again. Then a man talked with Austin for a few moments, explaining the basics of the Polygraph. I heard Austin agree that he would be as truthful as possible.

I opened my eyes, staring at the back of Austin's head, at the messy brown hair I always liked to feel between my fingers, and watched him tense as he gripped the armrests of the chair that held him. Almost as though he were nervous.

"If you're innocent, you have no reason to worry," I told him.

"Shall we start?" the man asked.

"Yes," Austin answered. "I have nothing to hide."