PART ONE
THE AFTERMATH
CHAPTER ONE
MY TEARS RICOCHET
HAZEL
My best friend is dead. Cameron is dead, and I can’t bear to come to terms with any of it. Tears slowly stream down my face as the funeral home plays some shitty version ofWind Beneath my Wingsover a crackling speaker. I don’t know what happened, but my best friend is dead. She’s gone, and it doesn’t feel real. I’m trying to get through today, and then I can really begin to process all that’s happened.
In the past week alone, I found out that Cameron and Leyla were killers, that Cameron and his dad were the ones who killed Leyla’s parents—Cameron’s dad killed her mom, and Cameron was told to kill her dad—but then it was actuallyLeylawho killed her own dad.
They were almost caught by Detective Alexandra, but then they were fucking killed in a freak car accident, and their car was found torched.Liars. All of them. This was now my burden to bear and my secret to keep. My secret alone.
This whole day was a joke. Even Ley’s first foster family showed up, the sack of shits they were, acting like they ever gave a shit about her. I don’t even know how much time has already passed as Detective Alex stands next to me, her normally calm demeanor cracking every moment as we stand in the funeral home. The placeholder of my soul is slowly cracking away, and I honestly don’t know how much more I have left of myself.
People come up and shake our hands, give us hugs, and make it seem like they were all important in her life. It was never that way when she was alive, so why is it after her fucking death everyone seems to care? Did any of these people know the truth before me? A million little thoughts run through my mind as the day goes on. I’ve never fucking liked or trusted Detective Alex, but she’s become my single pathway to any information on Ley’s death. I just don’t know what to do or who to believe anymore; it’s just become a part of who I am.
“Can I get you anything, dear?” Alex turns to my blank face, the bags under her eyes darker and more present than I initially realized. I couldn’t particularly figure out if it was just the fact that I feel like I’m drowning with no end in sight, or I was just truly that caught up in myself. Alex must have continued on talking, her face expectant.
“Huh? Oh…Oh uh, no. I’m—” A tightness squeezes my chest, and I gasp. Just then, a hint of red flashes out the window to my left. This little inkling of hope forms, but quickly is squashed when reality sets back in, and I realize that it couldn’t be Leyla. Though there was basically nothing found of their bodies, burnt clothing that melted onto charred bones. She was gone. My best friend was never coming back. The heartbreak settles into my chest like shards of broken glass that just won’t stop bleeding. I’m bleeding out, and there seems to be no end in sight. “No thanks, Alex. I’m gonna head to—to the bathroom real quick.” The air in the room looms overhead, a giant dark cloud pressingdown on me, and I can’t fucking breathe. I can’t take this anymore. I feel the precipice of a panic attack blurring the edges of my vision, and I know it’s written all over my face.
“Go take a walk, Hazel. You’ve been on your feet the whole day, go grab a snack.” Alex’s voice booms in the stagnant quiet of the room.
I nod, my breath catching in the back of my throat as I look at the back of the room and see he’s there. 6’5 with black, slicked-back hair, his eyes so grey they’re lacking any color at all. His arms are covered in tattoos. I’m too far away to see what exactly he has tattooed, but the man’s presence alone is staggering. And I immediately want to know more. This feeling of knowing settles over me, along with a blanket of fear. There’s an air of mystery surrounding him, making a chill run over my body. Goosebumps climb my arms as I look down, his gaze still boring through me.He’s fucking hot. Terrible time for my body to betray me like this. I look back up toward the back wall, the faded paintings of roses taunting me. But before I can even process what’s happened, he’s gone.
What the—Who the FUCK was that?
I turn around and look around to see if anyone else saw him. Nothing. Everyone else is in their own little world, and I honestly have no idea what is happening. Taking a deep breath, I pull out my expected smile and run out the door. Sweat is beading on my forehead, and I need to get out of here.Who is he? Shit.Throwing the doors open, I search around for him, looking through every single place I can possibly find. There are groups of people loitering around the front doors, and a person tries to stop me, asking me if I’m okay. I must be looking as crazed as I feel. People are now staring at me, and I know I have to keep ignoring every single one.
I pride myself on being the happy go lucky one, the one who always has the smile on her face. I never let that facade crack. Isquint as I look down the length of the parking lot. Nothing. But then I hear a sports bike taking off somewhere in the distance, and I know in my bones that was him. A buzz in my pocket shakes me out of the fog that’s been sitting heavily on me all day.
I take it out and look at the screen.
Unknown: We need to talk.
Hazel: Who is this?
Unknown: You’re not safe. I’ll meet you at 18:30 tonight.
Unknown: The Tree. LeBauer Park.
What the fuck?
I try to look as inconspicuous as physically possible, but how the hell am I supposed to just trust this random number that’s telling me that I’m not safe? I can’t leave the funeral now, that would seem too sketchy. I feel my body tense up, a full body shiver running through me. This is honestly all too fucking confusing. Who is this unknown person? What the hell is actually going on? How did they get my number? I honestly don’t know what to even do right now. Why did that suspicious man look familiar to me? I know him…I don’t know how or from what point of my life, but it has now become a personal mission for me to figure this out.
The rest of the funeral goes off without a hitch. It’s honestly hilarious because I knew Leyla, and honestly, she wouldhaaateall these people here. Hate all the fake ass attention being put on her. But this was all Alex’s idea. Alex, were she anyone else, probably would be considered an attractive woman—minus the fact she’s got the stereotypical cop haircut and today she looks older than she is. Her dark complexion gives her this elegant air to her; that makes you feel like she’s comfort and safety in one—for everyone else at least. Not me. The woman who spent our entire childhood inserting herself into our lives, as she just sits around, talking and being friendly with people who don’t matter. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as I scan the room once more, my chest tight.
My light-honey skin is primped and prepped to perfection, but I knew better than to put on too much makeup today—cause I was definitely not making it through this without sobbing. The funeral director, who looks like the crypt keeper herself, announces to everyone that the funeral procession is starting, and to please make their way towards their cars.
I hop into my white Civic, pulling the visor down and tucking a strand of my curly hair behind my ears again. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I watch as Alex hops in the cruiser in front of me while they load up the hearse with the casket. My best friend, my whole world, just gone in a blink of an eye.
A single tear falls down my cheek. This still doesn’t feel real. Wiping away the tear, I shake my head and take a deep breath. We inch along down the cold streets as we take her to her final resting place.
I watch as they lower my best friend's casket down into the broken, dark earth. My chest feels like there’s a snake squeezing out the last little bit of air from my lungs—and I’m going to let it. Alex’s hand gently lands on my back. I flinch away, not wanting to be touched by anyone, especially not her right now. There’s too much going on.
“Sorry. Sorry—I just…I’ll talk to you later.” My voice shakes as I keep my eyes downcast. “I-I need to go.” My feet are moving beneath me faster than appropriate, but I need to get out of here. I run to my shitty Civic, my hand placed on the front of the car as I dry heave, a nauseated feeling consuming me. Shaking off this feeling once again, I get in my car and speed off to the rental I’m staying in.
