Something inside her had changed.
Erica no longer stared at the ceiling with empty eyes. She no longer recoiled from every noise. The pain was still there - raw, sharp - but now it had a shape. And she needed answers.
She wanted to know.
The truth couldn't stay buried beneath fear. Not anymore.
One afternoon, as Max sat beside her with a quiet calm, she turned to him.
"I need your help," she said, steady but soft.
He looked at her, surprised. "Anything."
"I don't want to drag you into this," she added quickly. "But... I have no one else. My parents don't want to talk about it. They won't support me."
"You're not dragging me," he said, gently taking her hand. "I want to help."
Erica hesitated. "You said one of your cousins is a detective, right? The one working this case?"
"Yeah-Ram. He's leading the investigation."
"Can you talk to him?" she asked. "Maybe... we can go together? I want to tell them everything. I want to remember."
Max didn't blink. "I'll call him right now."
---
Detective Ram agreed instantly.
"We were going to call her in anyway," he told Max. "We need her full statement. If she's strong enough, bring her in."
So they did.
The station was colder than she expected - not the temperature, but the air. Sharp, observant. Everyone looked like they were waiting for something to crack.
They led her to a private room, sat her down gently, and turned on a small recorder. The red light blinked.
Ram sat across from her, eyes kind but focused. "Take your time, Erica. Tell us everything you remember."
Her voice wavered at first. But she told them everything - the messages with Max, how excited she was to meet him, how she lied to her parents to go. The soft breeze, the quiet path. Then...
"Someone grabbed me from behind. I-I couldn't scream. Something covered my mouth. And then... I don't remember anything after that."
Ram leaned in. "Try. Even if it's blurry. Anything could help."
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to dig through the fog in her mind.
And then - a flicker.
Her body tensed. "Wait... I saw something. One of them. His arm-there was a scar. A big one. Burned. Like a fire scar."
Ram exchanged a glance with another officer and nodded, typing it down.
"Thank you," he said. "That helps. We'll investigate further based on that."
But as they led her out, Erica felt hollow again.
It wasn't enough.
She wanted to know. She didn't want to sit on the sidelines while strangers pieced together her life. She wanted to fight. To look those monsters in the eye and say: You didn't destroy me.
So when they got back into Max's car, she turned to him with a fire in her eyes he hadn't seen before.
"I'm not done," she said. "I'm going to find them. With or without them. I need to. I have to."
Max didn't even hesitate. "Then I'm with you. All the way."
From that day forward, Erica and Max began their quiet hunt. They'd look through records. Ask questions. Look for boys in the area with burn scars. Anyone acting strange. Anyone who disappeared after that night.
Piece by piece, she was going to uncover the truth.
No matter what it took.