“Just a few spells around the house will help my mom out a lot.” His voice quickened. “I can do it myself, you don’t even have to come in—”
“Of course I’ll help,” I blurted. I imagined his mom in that big old farmhouse, trying to take care of everything by herself. “Whatever you need. Seriously.”
He nodded, and looked out the window, deep in thought.
I chewed around the edges of a piece of toast, my mind wandering, taking in the buzzing conversation of students flitting in and out of lines. Thankfully, Max had chosen a table on the other side of the room than the one Aaron used to frequent. I tried to not look to that corner, but my eyes kept getting drawn to it. Light filtered through the leaves of the desert willow outside. The leaves undulated like water.
When I was seven, my mother took me to Hillcrest Beach. It was a small little cove with wicked rip currents, sharp rocks, and no lifeguard. While I played, I noticed a figure out in the distance, bobbing in the waves. The more I watched, the more I realized the figure’s body wasn’t plunging above and under the surface voluntarily. He threw his arms up, only managing to lift them for a moment before the current sucked him back under.
I looked around for my mother or another grown-up to help the swimmer, but no one seemed to notice. I pointed at the man. “Look!” I shouted. Two adults ran out to him, diving under again and again, but they never came back up with the man.
In later years, I would return to that day and wonder if I’d noticed him sooner, or if I’d tried to swim out myself, we might have saved him. They found his body eventually, I heard, though Mom turned off the TV quickly whenever news of it flashed on. Didn’t want to scare me more, I guess. Or maybe she felt guilty that she’d missed it, too.
I still have dreams about that man, only our positions are reversed. I’m the one flailing in the water, lungs filling up with water. A little girl watches me, her voice not loud enough for anyone to hear or care. “Look, look, she’s out there,” she cries, eyes filling with tears, but no one even looks up. Slowly, my lungs fill with water, and at long last, I slip silently beneath the waves.
I grit my teeth. Some part of me wondered if Dani ever felt like this, too. Everyone just leaving her to slip beneath the surface, as if no one cared enough to even look up.
I wondered if Aaron felt like this.
Max had moved onto angrily slurping up his milk while I slathered more butter on my toast.
Maya’s Instagram was still open on my phone, and at random, I started scrolling through it. I looked through her “likes” to see if there were some accounts that frequented her posts more than others, but there were too many to keep track of. That was when I started noticing the pictures.
In the background of many of them was the same person. A woman, perhaps a few years older than Maya. Pretty, with brown hair, shiny white teeth, and tanned skin. She looked a little like Maya herself.
Maybe a sister or cousin?
I kept scrolling down, and again and again, there was the woman. Sometimes, she was laughing along to whatever joke was shared, and sometimes, she was just standing there, off in the shadows. She wasn’t tagged in any pictures; I don’t think Maya would’ve even known she was there at all.
“Max … do you know who this is?”
He craned his neck to look at the phone. “That’s Dr. Oswold, associate professor. Just joined staff at the beginning of the year.”
I looked up her bio on the Seinford and Brown website. Dr. Rose Oswold, Associate Professor of History.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Rose Oswold … Could she be our RO?
CHAPTER NINE
The “Friend”
We found Grace outside her accounting class.
“We were wondering if you ever saw this woman around Maya?” I asked, showing her the picture of Rose.
“Dr. Oswold? Oh yeah, Maya and her used to hang out. They were pretty good friends for a bit.”
“For a bit?”
“I hadn’t seen her around much lately.”
“She came to her room?” I asked.
“Bit unusual for a teacher, huh?” Max said.
“I don’t know,” Grace said. “She’s pretty young. Only a year or two older than us, I think. She’s a lot like Maya. They got on well.”
