Aleeza:Okay.
I turn. And almost immediately, I’m engulfed in the most comforting warmth I’ve felt all night. I stop shaking. I can’t feel him pressed against me, or even hear his breathing, but I feel warmth, comfort, and closeness.
Jay:I’ve got you. Get some sleep.
I close my eyes, relishing in cozy warmth surrounding me. I feel ... protected. Accepted.Wanted.Not alone.
I fall asleep with Jay’s arms around me, and I sleep better than I have all year.
“Aleeza! Aleeza, wake up!”
I have the headache to end all headaches. And Gracie is shaking me awake. She’s got her phone in her hand and is sitting on the edge of Jay’s bed. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. I check the time on my watch—it’s past noon on Sunday.
“I’m up, I’m up. What is it?” My brain feels like it’s pounding on my skull.
“It’s Jay.”
I sit up quickly. They found him. “He’s okay?”
But Gracie shakes her head. “His coat, phone, and wallet were found washed up on Woodbine Beach last night.”
I blink, confused. “What?”
“Aleeza, they had a press conference. They’re ending the search. Jay Hoque is now presumed dead.”
FOURTEEN
Imake Gracie repeat it a few times because I can’t believe it’s true. She finally climbs into Jay’s bed with me and opens a news clip on her phone.
The steady-voiced news anchor looks straight at the camera as she speaks.
“The personal effects of nineteen-year-old Toronto student Jayesh Hoque were found washed up on Woodbine Beach Saturday. Jayesh, a second-year engineering student at Toronto City University, went missing in November from his dorm room. An extensive search in the fall uncovered nothing about his disappearance, but police are now presuming Jayesh lost his life to suicide in Lake Ontario after his coat, containing his wallet and phone, was found on the beach. The family has declined to comment and are asking for privacy at this difficult time.”
A picture, clearly Jay’s high school graduation picture, stays on the screen while the news anchor talks. I haven’t seen the photo before, and it doesn’t match the Jay in my head. Or the Jay I saw around campus last year.
He looks so ...normalin the picture. Young. Slightly nerdy, but in a cute way. Glasses and shorter hair than I’m used to. None of that swagger, that certain something that drew everyone to him. Jay not looking like the Jay in my head makes it harder to grasp that this is true. That he’s gone. Even his name is different—Jayesh.
But it’s Jay. MyJay. The one who last night somehow had his arms around me across time and space.
Jay is dead. A ghost held me as I cried myself to sleep last night.
Or maybe no one did. Maybe my Jay doesn’t exist at all. Just the echo of his consciousness left here in this room after his heart stopped beating.
I squeeze my eyes shut. There is no way to save Jay.
“Aleeza, are you okay?” Gracie has her hand on my arm.
I have to remember that everyone thinks I’ve never met the guy. “Just hit me kind of hard. Poor guy. I mean, we’re sitting on his bed.”
Gracie nods. “It’s so sad. I wish I’d known him better ... I feel like I failed him. Do you agree that this was a suicide?”
I shake my head, even though I really don’t know. The Jay I know, the one who assured me that he’d never want to hurt himself, might not exist. The Jay from this timeline could be a completely different person. I can’t check ResConnect now to see if Jay is there. Not with Gracie right beside me. “Should we still investigate his disappearance?” I ask.
Gracie nods. “Absolutely. We don’t know what happened. Your missing-person podcast might actually be a murder podcast.”
I sigh, slouching. “It feels exploitative now.”
“Of course it’s exploitative! It’s always been exploitative. We were using Jay’s life, hismisfortune, for our gain. All true crime media is exploitative. But if we can help the case, maybe help give his parents peace, it’ll be worth it, right?”
