“The Raina thing is interesting,” Ziya continued, tapping her chin. “If Savannah was laying people off, Raina might’ve been concerned for her job. If she knew Madeline wanted to buy the bookstore—”
“And it sounded like she did,” Amie cut in. “Based on what we overheard before Andrew showed up.”
“Right. Then maybe Raina thought she had a better chance of keeping her job if the store was under new management.”
Amie frowned. “But Raina’s so nice,” she said.
“All killers are,” Ziya responded, her tone serious.
“I … don’t think that’s true.”
“I know. It just sounded deliciously ominous.” Ziya pushed her chair back and stood. “I have to get to class. Walk me back to my car?”
Amie stood as well, taking her time to do so. She’d had more than enough time to prepare for the two of them to part ways, and yet she still felt unprepared to say goodbye.
Stop being dramatic, she scolded herself as they began walking back down the street.You’re not saying goodbye forever. You’ll see her again.
“Ooh, they’re setting up for the fall festival!” Ziya pointed at a pickup truck that was turning down a perpendicular street toward Willows Park. A tall strength-tester game was lashed to the back, the bell at the top repeatedly dinging as it bumped against the wall of the truck bed.
“We should go,” Ziya said as they continued down the street. “I need my annual funnel cake fix.”
“Mm,” Amie murmured in agreement, her spirits lifting as Ziya made plans for their future (albeit a very near future with the main goal of acquiring deep-fried fair food).
“What’re you up to today?” Ziya asked, slowing as they approached her car. “Working on anything?”
“Not really.” Amie kicked a pebble off the sidewalk. “I asked Vivian if I could take a little longer on my next assignment. Just needed a break.”
“And she was fine with that?”
“Yeah. Honestly, I think they’re a few weeks away from replacing everyone with freelancers and AI. I doubt it’ll make much of a difference if I don’t log on to Slack for a few days.”
Ziya stopped by her car. “I’m sorry.”
“Eh.” Amie shrugged uncomfortably. “It’ll be fine.”
“You could still do journalism school,” Ziya suggested, her tone slightly teasing. This was not the first time she’d made the suggestion, and clearly she already knew what the response would be.
“Yeah, no,” Amie said. “I’m not gonna waste my time going back to school just so I canmaybeget a better-paying job. I’m almost thirty.”
She paused, frowning. Was she already thirty? How had she never thought about this before? She’d been twenty-eight at the start of the time loop, but for her, over two years had passed since then.Holy shit, am I thirty?
“I’m twenty-seven, and I’m still in school,” Ziya countered, unaware of Amie’s internal crisis. “And it’s not just about getting paid more. You should have a job that you enjoy.”
Amie put a pin in her mental age debate. “A lot of people have jobs they don’t enjoy, Z.”
“But you could have one, if you just tried. You’d be a great journalist.”
Exhaling through her nose, Amie looked up at her building. This was one thing that always bothered her about Ziya: how she would continue to push after Amie had already expressed her stance, usually on a topic related to how Amie lived her life. But what bothered Amie even more was how bothered she’d get by it. She knew Ziya only pushed because she wanted Amie to be happy. So why did Amie always get so irritated when Ziya was just trying to show that she cared?
“You left your dress and shoes upstairs,” Amie said, ending the conversation. “I can run up and grab them.”
Ziya’s car unlocked with achirpas she pressed her key fob. “It’s fine, I’ll get them next time I see you. I’ll return these clothes, too.”
“Ohh,” Amie chuckled as Ziya circled the front of her car. “The old ‘I left something at your apartment, so now we have to see each other again’ trick. Very sneaky.”
Laughing, Ziya said, “I can’t risk letting you freak out and ghost me after I leave you alone with your thoughts for five minutes. Now I’ve given you a mission you won’t be able to refuse.”
“You got me there.”
