“Where Salma is. And what Salma was hiding from her brother and sister-in-law.” I exhale. “Anything, really. Mainly, does she know of anyone who would want to hurt Jay or Salma?”
“Are you going to give her that mail the shawarma lady gave you?”
I shake my head. “No, Salma didn’t want her brother seeing it. I’m not going to give it to her brother’s daughter.”
“What’s in the mail, anyway?”
I shrug, then grab the plastic bag out of my backpack and look through the envelopes. It’s all addressed to the shawarma shop’s address, and it looks like mostly bank statements. But ... there is one interesting envelope here. Interesting, because it’s for Jayesh Hoque, not Salma Hoque. And it’s from a lawyer’s office: Choi, Patel, and Associates, Attorneys. Why would a lawyer write to Jay?
“Didn’t Jay’s mother work at a law office? Is this the same one?”
I shake my head. “No, that was ...” I don’t remember the whole name of that firm. “Featherington and Grant something.”
Gracie looks at the envelope. “It’s postmarked after he disappeared. It’s a federal offense to open someone’s mail. We should give it to someone.”
I exhale. I’ll ask Jay what to do with it tonight. “I’ll figure it out.”
When we get to the small café near the Ontario College of Art and Design, it’s easy to find Manal Hoque in the crowd of art students. She has the exact huge brown eyes as Jay. Her skin is a bit browner, and she’s about as short as I am, but the family resemblance to Jay and Salma is unmistakable.
Manal looks like an art student, though. She’s wearing wide-legged white pants and a bulky orange sweater and sits at a table near the back of the café working on an iPad. Behind her hangs a large print of the Toronto skyline painted in bright colors. The whole café has art prints all over the walls—probably because it’s so close to the art college.
Gracie goes right up to her. “Manal? I’m Gracie Song. Thank you so much for meeting me. I am so sorry for your loss.”
Manal stands and looks at Gracie, suspicion in her eyes, then glances at me. I see then that Manal’s sweater is cropped, with a gray shirt underneath.
“I’m Aleeza,” I say. I hand her the tote bag filled with Jay’s things.
Her expression falls immediately. She takes the bag from me and drops it on her table. “Aleeza?You’re the one who messaged me onInstagram. Jay’sfriend?” There is a lot of angry accusation in her voice. The barista glances up at us.
Gracie looks at me, confused.
“Yeah ... I mean, I didn’t know him that well, but—”
Manal raises an annoyed eyebrow. “That’s not at all what he told me. He told me you two had becomeveryclose.” She looks me up and down. Lord knows what she’s thinking about me. The barista is still watching us, concerned.
Gracie grabs my arm in surprise. Her eyes are wide as saucers. “Jay told you heknewAleeza?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.I promised Gracie weeks ago that I’d never met Jay. Which was true—then. I look at Gracie, hoping my expression is telling her that I’ll explain it all later. I have no idea what I’ll tell her, but I can’t explain it now, in front of Manal. Or in front of everyone else in the café. It feels like they are all staring at us.
“We weren’t that close. I mean ... not really,” I stammer.
“He had amassivecrush on you,” Manal deadpans as she crosses her arms. “Shocking too. You don’t seem his type.” Her voice is dripping with condescension. Does she think I had something to do with Jay’s disappearance? Maybe her mother even told her I was at his house today. Maybe she thinks we had a chaotic relationship that somehow ended with him dead.
Coming here was a bad idea. I should have let Gracie do this alone. Clearly Manal doesn’t trust me. And I don’t blame her at all.
Gracie is clearly also pissed at me. She lets go of my arm and turns away, giving Manal a sympathetic look. “Can I buy you a coffee? I’m gutted about Jay. If there is anything at all I can do to help.”
Manal shakes her head. “My family isgrieving. There’s nothing you can do to help us. Tell your friend you’ll never win ... so stop harassing Jay and my family.”
Manal starts packing up her things from the table like she’s going to leave.
“Wait,” I say. “I’m trying to find out whohurtJay. Don’t you want justice?”
She looks at me while putting her iPad into a messenger bag. “There is no justice. Don’t you see?” She shakes her head.
“Manal, youknowJay trusted me,” I say. “This is what he’d want ... me to find out who hurt him. There’s something you’re not telling us.”
Manal looks up to the ceiling, and I see tears in her eyes. Finally, she looks at me. “He mentioned you only once to me. He said he trusted you more than anyone else at that school.” She shakes her head. “He said you were special. And that things felt different with you. I remember thinking,Wow, he’s like a whole new person with her. It was such a change for him. And then, weeks later, he’s gone. So don’t blame me for not trusting you. You’re like the rest of them—sucking him into their world only to suffocate him.”
