Veronica's head rested against the icy glass of her window, her breath forming faint misty patterns on the pane as she stared out at her rain-soaked surroundings. She wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, drawing herself into a ball. The steady patter of rain was the only sound she clung to, drowning out the distant hum of the TV where her father sat, engrossed in a baseball game. She couldn't fathom how he could immerse himself in something so meaningless while their world had been taken from them.
From the bed, Backup let out a low whimper, his eyes reflecting her unease. She stroked his head absentmindedly. The room felt wrong, like a stranger's space despite her and Keith's best efforts to arrange the furniture in the new apartment. Her bedroom was half the size of her old one, which had been so airy and bright. She glanced at the desk, pondering moving it by the window, to open up the space. But nothing would make this room feel like home.
The apartment was too quiet. It was missing her mom's music playing in the background. They'd had to leave most of their furniture and home comforts, as going from a detached house to a small apartment on the wrong side of town didn't leave much space.
A sharp knock shattered the quiet, startling her. Backup sprang to his feet, barking furiously as he darted out of the room. Veronica's heart skipped a beat. They didn't get many visitors now, and when they did, it was never good news. She hesitated, waiting as the tension in the air thickened. Her father's voice rose from the front room, laced with anger. She got to her feet, stomach twisting, and hurried towards the noise.
When she entered the living room, her breath caught in her throat. The newly-appointed sheriff stood there, a deputy by his side. Her father's face was flushed with fury, his knuckles white as he held Backup back. "She's been through enough!" Keith growled.
"Who's been through enough?" Veronica asked, her voice barely steady. All eyes turned on her, scrutinising, judging. She could feel the weight of their gaze on her dishevelled appearance - her hair a messy ponytail, the plain pyjamas clinging awkwardly to her.
"Get dressed, Veronica," Sheriff Lamb ordered, his voice devoid of sympathy. "We need to take you in for questioning."
Her brow furrowed. "Questioning for what?"
"Honey, they just want to ask you about the day Lilly died," her father said, his voice softer, almost pleading.
She blinked in confusion. "But I've told you everything I know."
"You've got five minutes," Lamb said flatly, his tone offering no room for argument.
The interview room was stark, sterile, and the air inside felt cold and oppressive. Veronica pulled her sweater tighter around her, wishing it could offer some warmth. Sheriff Lamb sat across from her, his chair creaking as he leaned back, arms crossed. The uniform didn't suit him. It never would. It belonged to her dad, not him.
"Where were you the day Lilly died?" Lamb asked, his voice casual, as if the answer didn't carry the weight of her entire world.
"I've already told my dad all of this," Veronica replied, eyes narrowing. "Shouldn't you be out looking for actual suspects instead of wasting time on me?"
"Just answer his questions, Veronica," Cliff McCormack interjected. Her dad had asked the lawyer to be there after Lamb put a stop to Keith being in the room citing his previous involvement in the case. Her father and Cliff had bonded over the years over their shared love of baseball, and he had spent many games in front of their TV with a beer in hand. While his wry humour normally brought a smile to Veronica's face, his current presence did little to quell her rising anxiety.
She exhaled sharply. "I was at pep squad practice. It started at eleven. We were at the car wash until about three."
"What time did Lilly leave?" Lamb prompted.
"Around two forty-five. I had to wait for dad to finish work, so I went for a walk after, along the beach."
"Who were you with?" Lamb pressed.
"I was alone." Her voice grew quiet. "I walked to the marina... and back."
"Did anyone see you?"
She shook her head. "No. The beach was empty. I got back just in time to meet my dad, and we went for food at Denny's." The words stuck in her throat, her chest tightening. "Then as we left, that's when the call..." she trailed off as tears welled in her eyes. The image of Lilly's lifeless body flashed across her mind. Her bright blue eyes no longer sparkling, but unseeing. Veronica swallowed hard, forcing down the bile rising in her throat.
"Lilly Kane was killed at four P.M.," Lamb stated coldly, watching her reaction. "You had time, Veronica. You could've walked to the Kanes' house—what's it, a twenty-minute walk from the car wash?"
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as the weight of his accusation hit her. He was serious.
He thought she had killed Lilly. Her best friend.
"That's ridiculous," Cliff cut in, his voice calm but firm. "There's no evidence to back up any of this."
Lamb ignored him, his gaze still locked on Veronica. "You've always been jealous of Lilly, haven't you?"
"No," Veronica whispered, shaking her head.
"She had everything, didn't she? The perfect life. The looks. The money. The Kanes are loved by everyone."
Veronica clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "It wasn't like that."
"Your boyfriend, Duncan Kane, had just broken up with you," Lamb continued, his tone almost taunting. "Didn't even tell you why, did he?"
"How... how do you know that?" Veronica's voice wavered, confusion knitting her brow.
"You must've been angry," Lamb said, ignoring her question. "Lilly had what you didn't, you were always her second string. Maybe you snapped."
"No!" she shouted, standing up abruptly. "I loved Lilly. I would never—"
"And what would hurt Duncan more than taking away his beloved sister?"
"Sheriff Lamb," Cliff interrupted sharply, rising to his feet. "Unless you have actual evidence, this farce is over."
Lamb leaned back, a smirk curling his lips. "You're free to go. For now."
"Are you okay?" Keith asked, his voice tight with concern, swooping in the moment Veronica emerged from the interview room. His arm encircled her shoulders, pulling her close. His presence was steady, but Veronica felt like a leaf caught in the wind.
"I'm fine," she murmured, the words hollow. Her head was spinning. "I just want to go home."
"They've got nothing yet," Cliff assured her.
"Yet?" Veronica snapped, her voice rising as she spun to face him. "What do you mean 'yet'? You think I killed Lilly?"
"I didn't mean it like that…" Cliff raised his hands in surrender, his face pinched with discomfort.
Veronica's eyes burned with frustration, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned to Keith. "I'll meet you at the car," she mumbled, not waiting for his response before slipping past them, making a beeline for the station's exit.
As she reached Keith's car, a basic sedan he'd bought after surrendering his sheriff's patrol car, her breath started to hitch. She gripped the car door, the weight of the day collapsing on her. The air seemed too thick, too stifling, and she gasped, struggling to draw it in. She couldn't shake Lilly's face from her mind – the bloody wound that covered half her head.
The image clung to her like a shadow.
She was trembling by the time Keith arrived, but she had managed to push it down, lock it away deep inside where the memories couldn't reach her. Keith's brow furrowed when he saw her, but he said nothing, just opened the car door.
"Want to stop for some ice cream on the way home?" he asked gently, trying his best for normal.
Veronica shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "I just want to go home."
Keith sighed as he got into the driver's seat, casting a glance in her direction. "It's standard procedure, Veronica," he said quietly, as though reassuring himself as much as her. "They have to question people, all her friends... It doesn't mean they think you're guilty."
"Dad, please," she whispered, her voice tight, fragile. She didn't have the strength for reassurances right now.
Keith pressed his lips together and nodded. "Home it is."
Logan shoved a mouthful of cereal into his mouth, barely tasting it, while Lynn peered over her newspaper, giving him one of her disapproving looks. He ignored her, pushing the empty bowl across the pristine kitchen counter towards the sink. He was about to head to his room when the door banged open, and Aaron walked in, dressed in a tracksuit, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.
His father headed straight for the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water and chugged it down. Logan paused, something tense in the air between them. His father turned from the fridge, wiping his mouth.
"You know who they've got in for questioning?" Aaron asked, his voice casual.
Logan stopped dead. "For Lilly?"
Aaron nodded. "Veronica Mars."
Logan's stomach dropped, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "Veronica? That's... that's insane."
"How do you know that?" Lynn queried. "Isn't she a minor?"
Aaron shrugged, leaning against the counter. "My running buddy – Mal, his wife was at the station last night, complaining about some bikers driving along here in the middle of the night." Aaron shook his head. "They should really do something about that; it's so dangerous, and it brings the community right down."
Logan shook his head in confusion at the non-sequitur. "Dad, stay on topic… they actually think Veronica killed Lilly?" he asked incredulously.
Aaron tapped his finger against his mouth, appearing to look thoughtful. "You know, I saw a girl running from the Kane estate that day—blonde, I remember because of the clothes - is it the cheerleading uniform?"
"Pep squad," Logan corrected, his jaw tightening. "You think that was Veronica?"
"I'm sure of it," Aaron said, taking another swig from his bottle. "I remember because of the uniform. Couldn't have been Lilly. Now that I think about it, it had to be Veronica."
"Maybe you should tell the police," Lynn murmured, her voice distant, her eyes clouded with sadness. "I can't believe Veronica would... but if it helps..."
Aaron nodded amiably. "I will."
Logan felt a chill crawl up his spine. His fists clenched at his sides. This wasn't happening.