I smile inwardly. She’s becoming a badass detective. And she wants me to wake up.

Maybe I should. Maybe she could actually help me in my quest. Help me find answers.

I’ve never understood how Earl died. Who did it. How I was so perfectly framed. I was hoping to get answers from Sarah. She flat-ass lied on the witness stand. Said Earl was afraid of me. That they both were. Afraid for their lives. Why would she say that unless Earl put her up to it? But why would he put her up to it? And why would she follow through with it after he died?

She didn’t want to. I felt every emotion running through her alcohol-abused body when she was on the stand, and the last thing she felt for me was fear. She still wanted me, even after all the years. I guess I should be grateful she never mentioned Kim. I know now why she didn’t. She liked Kim. Didn’t want her mixed up in any of this. In a way, Sarah set her free.

I went to see her—incorporeally, of course—a few months after I’d been convicted, but she was killed in a home invasion. That was when the niggling in the back of my mind began.

But the postcards are what nailed it for me. The scent of his cheap cologne. The sentimental garbage strewn across one of them.

Earl Walker is alive, and I’m going to find him.