Page 85 of Pretty Lies

She imagined he’d been washed—maybe. If he hadn’t been moved from the hospital yet, then the coroner for the district hadn’t viewed him as he worked out of another facility. A note in the paperwork was clear that his body shouldn’t be released to the family because the police still considered J’s remains evidence they needed until the coroner signed off.

That bothered her a lot.

Once her mother was back at home, the first thing she’d want to do was begin work on giving her son a proper goodbye. So, now Della was going to have to go home to her parents and explain that, just to rub salt in the wound, who knew when they would have J’s remains to bury?

This day wasn’t getting easier. Della was hyperaware of her loneliness. Of the sadness. The ache wouldn’t leave her chest.

A little over twenty-four hours ago, she’d been standing in that office with her brother because he did the same thing for her that he always did. He was the best big brother she could have ever wanted—her heart was missing a huge piece. Just like the hole that was now going to be in her life because J was no longer there to fill it.

The movement on the right side of the room had Della’s attention switching there in an instant. Her thoughts silenced all at once when the large blue doors were opened for the two morgue workers who were currently pushing a rolling metal table that was long enough to be a bed. The human-shaped form under a tucked-in white sheet had her heart thundering. Even her breaths came in and out a little sharper.

They came to a stop in front of the windows.

Now or never, she thought.

A part of her had maybe still been trying to pretend like J wasn’t gone. Like yesterday was a dream and at some point, she would wake up, and the nightmare would be over.

The men glanced her way on the other side of the window. This was never going to be over. They waited for her. It took her ten seconds to nod. When they pulled the sheet back to let her view Joel’s ashen body from his neck up, Della was grateful for only one thing.

His face wasn’t bloody. Nothing else was good or right, though.

She just wanted to be in there—with him. Arms tight around him, she’d beg God to let her brother’s heart beat again. Even if it was only for one more minute.

So, then she could say thank you and tell him she loved him. Promise to be a better sister.

All of it.

And more.

Instead, she pulled her sunglasses back down so even the men beyond the window wouldn’t see her cry. Because goddammit, heartbroken or not, Costellos wouldn’t ever be seen as weak, and even in his death, J would expect and respect nothing less from Della.

She didn’t know anything else, either.

•••

The elevator doors opened to the reception area of the hospital’s morgue as Jennika’s final voice message from the night before played on Della’s phone. The shortest of the ten or so that her friend sent, it was also the easiest to understand. The others had the wind in the background, or her friend slurred too much.

She’d messaged her back, and tried to call since the morning with no answer and no reply. As she made her way back to where Cory was waiting for her, a reply finally did come in from her friend. It only said I’m not okay—sorry.

Della kind of figured that out on her own when she heard Jennika’s mess of messages. The last one had simply been her friend mumbling, “I loved him, Della, fuck. Okay?” Followed by crackling static in the speaker before it cut off entirely.

“Is that Jennika?”

Della glanced up from her phone to realize a couple of things. She still hadn’t exited the elevator, Cory was waiting just three feet away from her where he leaned against the wall, and the lawyer was now gone. No doubt, she or her father would be seeing the man again soon. The damn cops were all over everything. Like fucking fleas.

Della waved her phone as she stepped out of the elevator. Pushing her sunglasses up to the top of her head, she wasn’t worried about Cory seeing her bloodshot eyes, or the dampness left behind from her most recent tears. He wouldn’t say a thing.

In fact, he didn’t say anything about her crying when he wiped the dampness away with the pads of his thumbs when she came close enough for him to reach out and do it.

This man …

He was something else.

Tipping her head up to meet his stare, she said, “Yeah. I don’t know how she got out of the hospital last night, but she’s not taking what happened well at all. I think she and J were … a thing, or something and she’s spiraling a bit. Not the first time she’s done something like this, really, but it’s a bad time for it.”

Cory chewed on his cheek like he was considering his next words. “Huh.”

“I’m worried about her. She doesn’t have anybody. She won’t pick up a call.”