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“Bayla... If you've heard anything from Julian...” she began hesitantly.

An unpleasant tug squeezed my heart.

I didn't know anything about his current whereabouts. Emely just reminded me that I tried to reach him every night.

“Like I said, I don't know where he is.” I sighed with exhaustion. “He hasn't contacted me.”

Emely didn't respond, so I was forced to think about my best friend again.

What kind of friendship was this if he couldn't even tell his best friend where he was? I understood that he needed time to come to terms with his father's death. And especially with what his father had revealed to him out of the blue about his origins. But he could at least let me know where he was. Was that too much to ask? Was I even allowed to ask anything of him?

“You both grew up here, right?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming thoughts.

Something you're good at, Bayla.

“When we were little, he was here every day.”

He had told me that.

“That sounds like a wonderful childhood.”

Emely sighed and closed the top drawer. “It was, but...” The next drawer was pulled open. “All good things come to an end.”

I looked up, alarmed. “He said that too.”

What if they just didn't give each other a chance? What if that was all that stood between them? Julian's pride included, of course.

“I'm surprised at how quickly you became friends.” I looked at Emely in surprise and recognized unfamiliar emotions in her gaze. A mixture of curiosity and seriousness. “I never thought Julian would open up to anyone again after the car accident.”

I knew so little about his mother's death. Julian hadn't really opened up. Actually... not at all. I learned all the serious things about him from other people.

“Before you came to town, he had lived in isolation with his father and Mia for two years. I visited him often, but he...” She hesitated. “He eventually shut himself off completely.”

It was obvious that Julian meant more to Emely than just a friend, especially after all the years they had known each other.

If Larissa suddenly withdrew and ran away, it would knock me off my feet.

“I'm sorry.”

“Bayla.” Emely looked at me seriously.

“Sorry,” I laughed awkwardly, and she just sighed.

“Again.”

The corners of her mouth turned up. Or was I mistaken?

“I... Okay, I'll stop apologizing.”

Where did I pick up this habit? Did it have something to do with my mother?

The realization hit me like a brick to the head. Of course it had something to do with her. All the times I had apologized for something so I wouldn't burden her with her disease... At this point, these words came out of my mouth almost automatically.

“God, where does Alarik keep his notebooks from back then? It feels like there’s nothing but university stuff here,” Emely groaned and closed the drawer, her gaze wandering around the room as she shook her head. “I would never be able to find my way around this mess. Books everywhere.”

Even if Emely didn't see it, there was order in his chaos. The mess, which for me was part of Alarik, gave this place its soul. Living here would be a dream for me.

Emely came over to me and I got up, frustrated, partly because of my thoughts and partly because of the unsuccessful search.