T’Chai Nanni wouldn’t be open until later in the afternoon, and I couldn’t imagine spending any time in the studio or this room or wandering like a ghost through the paths of the woods. Islington was a prison today, and I needed freedom. Not that anything in town sounded idyllic. I just knew I couldn’t sit still. There was no way this day was going to be anything other than a wash.
Elisa was already gone, which wasn’t surprising. I looked over to her side of the room, to the photos of her and Jane on vacation together, the road trips and smiles. Jane had slept in our room a few times for movie nights, and we’d stayed up way too late watching crappy horror movies and eating junk food and trying not to squeal with laughter at the bad special effects lest an RA come in and, well, sit down and watch with us. It felt like there was a hole in my gut, one punched out by Jane’s ghost. But the sadness wasn’t there. Instead, I just felt empty.
The phone buzzed with Ethan’s response.
I see you missed breakfast. I nearly did as well. Let’s get donuts and vanish.
I typed back a quick yes please. Meet in thirty?
I wanted to call my mom. I wanted her to tell me what was going on and how to make it better. But I didn’t want to worry her. The last thing she needed was to think there was some weird suicide pact thing going on around campus. Instead, I slid from bed and into the bathroom for a shower. I doubted the heat would melt the numbness inside, but it was a better course of action than staring at the wall until Ethan showed up to whisk me away.
The water offered no solace. I hadn’t expected it to. I turned off the faucet and toweled off and stared into the mirror. It took all of my self-control to keep the images down, the empty bathroom and my blood on the tiles.
I knew how it felt to stand on the edge and leap. I knew what came after the free fall.
Jane’s and Mandy’s deaths brought it all back into focus.
When I finally slipped into clean-ish clothes, I felt no better than when I woke up. Jane was gone. Jane was gone. Why did we remain?
I hated to admit that this hurt worse than Mandy, just as I hated to admit that I was too numb to truly feel anything but distanced from it all. Maybe that was just how I coped.
I needed Ethan to root me back down. I had my parents, sure, but he was the one who was here to show he cared, and that I mattered. I didn’t want to make this about me, but . . . two suicides was hitting too close to home.
Especially since I still couldn’t figure out how or why Munin was involved.
Before I could get too lost in my head, I walked down to the lobby to wait for Ethan.
Maria was behind the counter again. She was clearly in distress—her usual fancy dress and wicked rockabilly hair was replaced by a sweater and track pants, her hair hanging in a limp frizz down her back.
“How you doing?” she asked when she saw me.
“Managing. You?”
“Managing.” She gave me a weak smile. “They don’t really train you for this sort of thing, you know? You girls are my best friends and family here.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s . . .”
“Yeah.”
We sat in silence for a bit. Then I wandered over to my cubby, where a tiny strip of paper was waiting for me.
Kaira,
l’d like to speak with you soon. Saw your thesis and felt now would be a good time to reach out. l’ll be free all day. Take care.
Jonathan A.
Of course he saw my thesis—he would have seen it when searching out Helen. And of course he would be concerned.
“Hey Winters,” Ethan said. I turned and stuffed the note in my pocket.
I hugged him in response. He smelled of faded cologne and boy soap and black tea. Just the scent of him helped root me back down, pull me back into my body. Ethan was a constant. Ethan would always be a constant.
“You doing okay?” he asked, still pressed tight against me. His voice was rough.
“Not really.”
“Me neither. Let’s go.”
I signed out with Maria and followed Ethan into the dismal morning light. Gray sky, the ground covered in fresh snow. And on the streetlamp across from my dorm, a raven sat watching. Chills broke over me; I ignored them just as I ignored the bird.
“How’s Oliver taking it?” I asked as we trudged away.
“He’s okay. They weren’t as close as we were.”
I nodded. No matter what, it was still a blow to everyone here. There was no way to live on a campus this small and not be affected by the death.
“I still can’t believe she’s gone,” he said after a while. Only a handful of students were out right now, wandering between dorms and studios. No music came from the practice rooms, though, which made the place feel abandoned. Islington always had a soundtrack.
“I can’t either,” I replied.We reached his car and he took out the keys. “How’s Elisa?”
“Not good,” I replied. “I haven’t seen her at all today.”
“She was at breakfast talking to Cassie and some others. I think they were going to do some sort of vigil for her.”
I nodded. Even just being in his car felt strange. The scenery was the same, but the cast was different. He and I were no longer playing the right parts. So what were the right parts? When had our lives gotten so dark?
“Where do you want to go?”