Hailey pressed it to her face and sunk to the floor. “Where is everybody?”
Fin sat next to her. “They’re at the police station. Left a couple hours ago. I’ll stay with you until they get back.” He patted her leg.
“Thanks,” she said, staring at the floor. Tears were steadily dripping from her eyes, and she couldn’t do a thing to stop them.
“What happened to her?”
Fin pulled her into a hug. She rested her head against his chest and tried not to snot all over him.
“Hailey, please don’t make me…”
“Fin,” she begged. “Please tell me.”
“They…” He shook his head. “They stabbed her.”
Hailey tried to inhale properly.She just couldn’t suck in enough air. Every breath hurt, and she had to spit it out before it hit her lungs, because it was making her gut ache.
“Oh no,” she panted as the room spun above her.
Fin cradled her in his arms as she drifted into unconsciousness.
“Hailey,” he said gently, and she refocused on him. “You’re hyperventilating. Breathe with me,” he coached. “Slow breath in-one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, and hold it.” He counted to four then told her to breathe out, and he counted for her again. Several times he did this until she sat up on her own. “There,” he said. “Your color’s back. Come on, I’ll make you some tea.”
Hailey shuffled into the living room, where she sat on the arm of the couch, clutching the cuffs of her sleeves in tight fists and staring at the floor. The morning sun had long gone and taken with it the bright stripes of sunflower yellow from the entryway rug. Only a diffused glow pushed through the windows now.
Very carefully, Fin placed two cups of tea on the coffee table, and then he sat on the couch. He patted the cushion next to him, saying, “Decaf with a teaspoon of honey.”
“Thanks,” she managed. Fin somehow knew just how she took it, and she’d ponder that later, but for now she stared at the cup. A photo of Sigmund Freud stared back with a clever joke about ego, super ego, and ID. Holly’s cup.
Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she slid off the arm and joined him on the cushion, her shoulders drooped. Moving very slowly and watching the tea the whole way, Fin passed her the cup and scooted next to her on the edge of the couch.
Hailey’s insides were heavy, the rest of her body numb, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the police had made a mistake. How were they so sure it was Holly they’d found? She could still be out there. And no one was looking for her. Without taking a sip, Hailey set her teacup down, stood suddenly, and walked briskly toward her bedroom.
“Hailey!” Fin dropped his cup and chased after her.
She had to get cleaned up and changed and go see this girl they’d found. She knew in her heart it wasn’t Holly. She had to go tell them.
“What’s wrong?” Fin asked when she closed the door on him.
“I have to change,” she called through the door.
“Okay…”
Hailey could feel him waiting just outside her room as she hurriedly undressed and threw on some fresh clothes. She whisked the door open and shot across the hallway to the bathroom, where she combed her fingers through her frizzies and gathered them into a hairband.
“Where are we going?” he asked as Hailey quickly brushed her teeth.
“Coroner’s office,” she answered through the toothpaste, and then she spit. “We have to see the body.”
She scurried across the hall again, squeezing past Fin to grab a pair of socks from her room, which she’d forgotten. She zipped past him once more and headed for the door, hopping on one foot then the other as she pulled on her socks.
Fin followed.
“Hailey?” he said as she tied her shoes.
“Get your shoes on.”
“Okay…”
