Jay fromthistime, the only one on the same plane of existence with me, isgone. He’s been gone since before I even met him. I was never going to bring him back for his mother, his cousins, or anyone else. Or bring him back for me. The Jay I know, the one from the past—he and I could never be together anyway. Our connection was only in this crappy dorm room. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t save him. Everyone in his timeline will hurt all over again. I rub my hand over my face, wiping away my tears. I won’t know what happened to him. I will never know if I helped him at all.
“Why don’t you get some rest,” Gracie says softly. “I’ll stay here in your bed if you want. Maybe he’ll be here in the morning.”
I sniffle, then nod. Maybe he’ll be here in the morning. Maybe he decided to stay away tonight so Lance won’t find him. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
I’m so tired of maybes. I need a definite answer.Where is Jay?
I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep. But somehow I did. I wake up way too early, though, and the first thing I do when my eyes open is check ResConnect.
He’s still not here.
I guess I make a sound, because Gracie stirs, then gives me a sad look. “Still nothing?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry, Aleeza. I don’t even know what to say.”
What could she say? That I’m ridiculous to try to change the fate of someone I don’t even know? That I’m an idiot for falling in love with a ghost?
I sit up in bed. “I guess I should give up on the podcast?” I ask. The irony is that my media project—the reason I did all this in the first place—is also a failure. I’ve made a complete mess of everything.
Gracie gives me an annoyed look as she sits up. “We’re not giving up, Aleeza! We have to keep fighting! We knowwhohe was with andwherehe was on the night he disappeared. We almost have this. We need to bring justice for Jay and give his family some closure!”
I sit up and rub my eyes. She’s right. His family ... the family of present Jay ... deserves justice.
But this might not be as easy. “So we just go to the police tomorrow with Jack? And hope they actually do something? Don’t you remember what Manal said? These are the kind of people who get away withmurder. We knowwho, andwhere, but without awhy, they’re just going toboys will be boysthe whole thing and Lance will get a slap on the wrist. Guys like that get away with this shit all the time.”
Gracie suddenly gets out of bed. “Let me get my computer. We have a few hours before politics. I’m positive we can find out the why.”
Ten minutes later we’re sitting across from each other—me on Jay’s bed and Gracie on mine—with energy drinks, bananas, and our computers on our laps.
“Lance is a douche,” Gracie says. I assume she’s looking at the same thing I am—his Instagram account.Douchedoesn’t seem quite a strong enough description for the person I am seeing.
TCU doesn’t have fraternities, but if they did, I’d expect some of these pictures to come from frat houses—Lance and his boys drinking and partying and surrounded by skinny, conventionally attractive girls.Lance’s light-brown hair was longer last year, and I can’t find any pictures where he’s not wearing a backward hat. It’s actually weird. I met Lance in October, only a few months after these frat-boy pictures. Now he wears chinos and polos (except on Halloween, when he was wearing a terrible Spider-Man costume) and his hair’s shorter. It’s like he’s trying to appear more respectable.
But also, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he and Jay were such good friends last year. Jay’s socials from that year are so different. His grid is almost completely pictures of buildings and bridges, or art and food—no open beer bottles to be seen. And I know that Jay’s family income level was nowhere near Lance’s and his friends’.
Why were they friends?
Jay said that Lance initiated their friendship, and they played water polo together. Maybe the friendship itself wasn’t random.
But maybe I’m making assumptions.
“I can’t find anything about Lance’s family,” Gracie says. “His last name, Murray, is too common. Can you ask Mia for Lance’s parents’ first names?”
I shrug. I’m really not interested in getting in touch with Mia right now.
“Never mind, found something,” Gracie says. “Taylor has a picture with her mother on her Instagram at an International Women’s Day event, and she linked back to her account. Her mother’s name is Denise. A lawyer. So, maybe not old money like Jack’s family?”
I google Denise Murray, and it doesn’t take long to find pictures of her at charity events. “Oh, here’s an interview with her from her law school,” I say. I skim it. “She’s apparently a third-generation lawyer. So that’s pretty old money. She also mentions she’s divorced.”
“I’m looking at it now. Hey, this is cool—Denise’smotheris a lawyer, not her father. Have you found Denise’s ex-husband’s name? I assume that’s Taylor and Lance’s father.”
I shake my head. I google every combination ofDenise Murray + husbandorex-husbandthat I can think of, but I can’t find it.
“Jack said Lance’sfatherhas a boat at the yacht club. Maybe he’s listed somewhere?” I ask while I googleNorth Toronto Yacht Club + Murray. Eventually I find something. In an old copy of a club newsletter, there’s a picture of an Andrew Murray.
“Bingo. Denise’s ex-husband’s name is Andrew Murray.” I frown. “Probably should have looked up the yacht club and Murray first.”
