CHAPTER TWO
HOW DO I SAY GOODBYE
HAZEL
My rental is a small studio with gray walls that came fully furnished—which is perfect, ‘cause we know I don’t have the funds for that right now—and sits in the downtown of Maplewood. As I step up to the door, my hands shake with unspent adrenaline that doesn’t seem to leave me these days. Digging around in my purse, I look for my key then throw my head back, letting out a loud groan that startles a woman walking down the hallway with her dog, when I struggle to find it. I let out a soft apology and keep digging. Finally, I find them, and after taking a deep breath, I open the door to my apartment.
The apartment isn’t home, though. My home is, and has always been, wherever Leyla is…was. She’s always been my best friend—my home—and suddenly being told that she’s not gonna be around anymore…my life seems to have lost that light I’ve always been known for. I catch my reflection in the mirror near the front door, and though there’s makeup on my face, the darkcircles that have become permanently tattooed on my face are stark. I know that things will get easier, butfuck, right now it just feels like this sadness and heaviness will stick with me for eternity.
Trudging my way through the apartment, I peel off my funeral attire and toss them in the hamper. I know I’ve got to meet this mystery man later, but I need a moment for myself first. Exhaustion settles into my bones as I plop onto the bed in only my underwear.
I close my eyes for a moment—that’s all I allow myself—until flashbacks to when I first met Leyla come flooding in.
My auntie dropped me off today at group therapy. I love coming here, because I love making all the new friends. Auntie said I shouldn’t be so trusting, but it’s fine because we all come here, anyway. I see Miss Alex sitting in her chair at the table she sets up every week. Her face looks grumpy today, but when she sees me, she smiles so big. Miss Alex waves at me, and I skip over, my curly hair bouncing with each step.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you today?” Miss Alex asks, as she lifts her eyebrow, waiting for my response.
“I’m good, Miss Alex! I got a 100 on my homework today, and Auntie was so happy for me! Ooh! Who’s that?” My attention span may be short, but I see a little girl with bright-red hair sitting by a tree with a stuffy…and she looks kinda sad.
“Oh…that’s Le—” Miss Alex starts, but before she gets a chance to finish that sentence, I’m bounding off toward the littlegirl with the sad eyes. I jump in front of her, a big gap tooth smile on my face as I wave aggressively at the little girl.
The girl flinches back, hugging onto her stuffy, but I don’t move back, plopping onto the grass as I wave again.
“Hi! My name’s Hazel, Hazel Mathis! I’m nine, and we’re gonna be best friends. What’s your name?” I look at the red-headed girl as she blinks at me a couple times. Her mouth tries to move, but nothing comes out. Just as I’m about to pull out my backpack and show her all my books and toys, Miss Alex walks over and places her hands on both of our shoulders with a smile.
“I see you met Leyla, Hazel. Leyla’s not ready to talk to people yet, but I think you two are going to be very good friends. Would you mind showing her around, sweetie?”
Leyla’s head swivels between the two of us as I nod happily.
“Of course! C’mon, Leyla! I’m Hazel. I know I said that, but it’s sooooo nice to meet you, and I’m gonna show you all my favorite places around Maplewood.” Jumping up, I hold out a hopeful hand for Leyla to grab. A moment passes before she grabs it, and I drag her alongside me.
I shoot up with a start, tears flooding my cheeks. Sobbing in my sleep has been something I’ve experienced since the night I found out Leyla and Cameron died. If I’m not waking up sobbing, it’s night terrors—or nightmares, whatever you want to call it. I just know that whatever is going on in my head, I’m tired. So damn tired.
I pull out my phone to check the time.5:30 p.m.I wipe the sleep from my eyes and force myself out of bed.I have to meet up with this mystery man.
Is this smart? Absolutely not. Do I care? I gave up caring weeks ago. There’s something in my heart that tells me I need to do this. I have this horrible feeling something is about to happen, and this man might have the answers I so desperately need.
I’m gonna get those answers and figure out who killed my best friend.
CHAPTER THREE
EMERGENCY CONTACT
ZACK
My bike flies down Main Street, the buildings passing by me in a blur. For the first time in weeks, I actually feel something. A feeling settles through me that is heavy and doesn’t let up anymore. I pull up to a red light and check my watch.18:15. I don’t really want this girl to show up, but I know I need to gather as much intel as I feasibly can.
Parking my bike, I lock up my helmet and walk over to the tree, leaning up against it. My goal is information—that’s it. I have this feeling that they’re not dead. I have no evidence of the sort, but I can just feel it in my bones that they’re notactuallydead. I look around, scanning the area to make sure that I wasn’t followed. I send a quick message to my brother Sam, checking in on him. He may be nineteen, but he’s a damn mess, and this is the first time I’ve left him home alone. Sam texts back with an eye roll emoji and a quicknope, burning the house downtext.
I know he’s joking, but that kid is gonna give me gray hair before I’m forty. I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, taking in the world around me. It’s mid-April, and the scents of the blooming flowers and wet earth permeates my senses. The crunching of a car’s tires over gravel pulls me from my inner thoughts, my head shoots up. I shove my hands into my pocket as Hazel steps out of her car toward me, her brows furrowed and face looking like a woman scorned.
Fuck,she’s beautiful. Her hair perfectly frames her face, the curls bouncing as she storms toward me, and her amber eyes look like they’re nearly glowing in the setting sun which casts a halo around her, making her look nearly angelic. The look on her face snaps me out of my trance as she stops in front of me, placing her hands on her hips. She looks tired—exhausted, really—and it doesn’t look like she’ll be stopping any time soon. Her manicured hand flies up as her nail jabs into my chest, and her voice comes out in a hushed growl.
“Who are you, and what’s so secretive that we had to meet in the park like we’re some secret agents or some shit? Hmm?” Hazel’s tone is accusatory and sharp, but deep down she looks scared—a look I’ve seen before—and it knocks me down just a tad before I roll my eyes.
I don’t have time for twenty questions, so I look down at her, brow quirked.
“Name’s Zack. I’m Cameron’s best friend, and I don’t think they’re dead.” My tone is cold and heartless, my eyes boring into hers, unwavering. I take a quick breath and look at her again. “I need your help. Despite having resources at the tip of my fingers, I’m missing something. I need what you know, because you seem to be close to the detective, and I think she’s hiding something,” I say without taking a breath. My words, which are normally cool and collected, come across as hectic and unstable.
