Once I turned the corner onto Graham’s street, I stumbled to a stop. Flashing blue and red lights from cop cars painted everything in vibrant, ominous hues. Jaxon talked to a police officer by the door, and Graham’s mother was wrapped in a blanket, crying as a female officer with a blunt bob cut spoke with her.
My stomach clenched, and I fought for breath. I couldn’t bring myself to move any closer, but I also couldn’t leave. The night swaddled me with chilled fingers, and I wrapped my arms around myself to fight off the ice in my chest.
I caught scattered words through the crackle of a radio and a distorted voice from a nearby police car. Graham Duvall. Twenty-three years old. No visible injuries. The roommate wasn’t home. Magical tox screen showed poison.
Someone poisoned Graham? My stomach twisted at the thought.
A man wheeled a gurney from around the side of the house, and a thin, white sheet barely concealed the unmistakable shape of a body.
The moment of uncertainty shattered, leaving nothing but the bitter truth.
Graham was dead.
I fell to my knees, and my stomach lurched. Graham might not have always been the best boyfriend, but he didn’t deserve this. I pressed a hand to my mouth, and tears rolled down my cheeks as memories assaulted me. Graham kissing me after he won his lacrosse game. Shopping for his little sister’s birthday present together. Him helping me study for an economics test.
How could he be gone? My brain couldn’t wrap itself around the idea that I’d heard from Graham just a few hours ago, yet now I’d never hear from him again.
I forced myself back onto my unsteady legs and turned, putting the terrible sight of the grieving, the police cars, and the body behind me. Without really knowing where I was going, I took off running again. After a few minutes, I pressed a hand to the cramp in my side, but I didn’t slow until I passed our bakery on Main Street. I continued by it and headed to Elaine’s house, which was in the same building as their family boutique.
I went around to the street behind their shop and rummaged through my purse. Had I forgotten my phone at home? No, it was there, hiding under the bag of cookies. I shot Elaine a text letting her know I was outside, and soon her window opened.
She stuck her head out, her eyes wide. “Kitty, I just texted you. Are you okay?”
“So you heard?”
Elaine nodded, a frown pulling at her lips. “It’s terrible.”
“I know,” I said. But knowing about Graham and knowing about how he died weren’t the same thing. Did she know about the poison? Would her thoughts jump to the same place mine had? “Can I come up?”
“I’ll come down,” she said. “There won’t be any privacy inside. My sister has a bunch of friends over, and they keep barging into my room.”
“Okay.” At least that way I wouldn’t have to see anyone else.
Elaine shut the window. Wind whistled down the street, and I shoved my hands in my pockets. I’d rushed out of the house without so much as a jacket, and nowthat I wasn’t running, the October air sliced into me. It blew the loose leaves down the street with a rustling scrape, as if even they were murmuring about what happened.
A minute later, Elaine opened the front door and slipped outside. Before she closed it, her little sister ran through the living room and yelled, “Could you please tell Caleb to go home? He’s been here since 7:00, and he keeps going into the kitchen to eat all my favorite snacks—”
“Shut up, Isla.” Elaine firmly shut the door. Juggling two mugs, she came down the steps. “Here, take this. It’s freezing out here.” She handed me a mug, then gave me a quick hug, enveloping me with the subtle scent of her maple-scented lotion.
“Thanks.” I cradled the steaming mug in both hands to warm them. “How did you hear?” I took a tiny sip, letting the sweet spicy warmth wash down my throat.
She took a drink from her cup and pulled Caleb’s burnt-orange leather jacket tighter around her. “My mom is in the same book club as Graham’s mom. She was at the church when…”
My throat tightened. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“Me either.” Elaine blinked, her blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“None of it makes sense.” My lips trembled, but I had to tell Elaine what I’d heard to see if she thought it was a possibility too. “I went to Graham’s house just now.” After a moment’s hesitation, I added, “And I overheard the police say he was poisoned.”
Her mouth fell open. “Poisoned! Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be.” I shrugged, but even that slight gesture felt like it might shatter the pieces of me that were barely hanging on.
Nearby, a neighbor opened their door, and laughter and the smell of cinnamon and apples broke free into the night. Two women strode down the street, their conversation about the upcoming Spooktacular Showdown drifting to us on the breeze. It was far too cheerful considering the tragedy that had just struck.
“You don’t”—I tightened my grip on the mug—“you don’t think I might have…”
My unspoken question had barely settled between us before Elaine shook her head. “Thatyoupoisoned Graham with that cookie or something? No way. Just becauseyou messed up those potions before doesn’t mean you’d do it again.”
