I feel so alone that I finally understand why El did drugs. If that’s how El always felt, I get why she did it. It’s a horrible feeling, one that chews on my insides.
On Monday, I appear in the lab with dark eyerims and not more than two hours of sleep every night.
“You look horrible,” says Jane. “Something happened?”
“No,” I say shortly. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Well, maybe this helps,” she says. “I finalized the analysis over the weekend.”
“You were here over the weekend?”
“Yes,” she says, hesitantly. “I had to get my mind off things.”
“Off what things?” I ask.
A moment of silence follows.
“The fact that I am in love with a woman who is full of secrets, who is not only my student, but also in love with another woman,” says Jane and stares at her hand resting on the table, not at me, and I am glad, because my mask drops.
It sounds so royally fucked up that I find no words.
At that moment, the door to the lab opens.
I spin around.
A security guard comes in, followed by two men in suits.
22
JANE
PLAYLIST: MOONLIGHT SONATA REMIX – ALLEN GREY
Iobserve the agents entering the lab, and I know something is off right away. Their expressions are cold and detached. I stand behind Amelie and automatically take her hand. She squeezes it.
“Miss Degard?” asks one of the agents.
“Yes,” Amelie whispers.
“FBI,” he says. “Agents Cho and Houston. You have been living with Elise Whitney-Morgan?”
“Yes,” she breathes out, and stammers. “She’s—what happened?”
“Please, sit down, Miss,” says the agent.
“What happened?” screams Amelie, and her fingernails dig into my hand.
“Elise Whitney-Morgan was found dead in a house in Hawaii. We are sorry for your loss. We’d like to question you regarding—“ The agent stops, and I feel it in her grip.
“No,” she whispers as she lets go of my hand.
Stumbles to the side.
Her chest heaves up and down.
She leans onto the desk.
Sinks to her knees.
