AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“They’re sweet people. They were always kind to me. Though I’m sure her dad wanted to kill me a few times.”
At the wordkill, I remember why I’m here. Why I wanted to find Zach in the first place. “Oh! Hey, one more question. When you last saw Mae, was she wearing this dress?” I hold up my phone, showing him the photo I snapped of the dress draped across Blake’s bed last night.
“No,” he says, hardly looking at it.
“You didn’t even look.”
“I don’t have to,” he says quickly. “She wasn’t wearing a dress. Not when she met me at the bar.”
“She wasn’t?”
“No. She was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. She’d changed from when we were dancing, said she wanted to be comfortable.”
I lock my phone screen. “And what time did you take her to the elevator? Do you remember?”
“I guess it was around four thirty or four forty-five.”
“Okay. Great. Thanks.”
“No problem,” he says, patting my arm. “I really hope you find her. If you guys need anything else, let me give you my number. I know you don’t owe me anything, but is there any way you could give me an update when you find her?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” He rattles off his number, and I type it into my phone.
“Got it. Thank you again. I’ll let you know when we have news.”
“Thanks. It was…well, it was good to officially meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances.” With that, we say goodbye and he walks away as I zip off to update Blake.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
BLAKE
When Florence finds me on the upper deck overlooking the water as we near the port, I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve been thinking of jumping myself.
Not actively planning, mind you. More like…quiet contemplation. What are those things called? When you picture doing something terrible or imagine a horrific accident? When you imagine how much blood would splatter if you walked out in front of that bus, or how it would sound if you just kept the car going straight around that curve? Intrusive thoughts, I believe. Lately, I find myself having them more than ever.
What would happen if I jumped? Would anyone notice? Would they find me in time? Would they try?
I stare out over the water, considering the fact that Mae could very well be underneath the surface right now. Did she go over on purpose? Did someone push her? Will I go to my own grave never knowing?
I imagine her body free-falling over the edge. Would she have screamed? Called out for me, maybe? Or was it peaceful? If someone forced her over, did they knock her out first, or did she feel every painful minute as her lungs burned for oxygen?
It’s too terrible to think about, and yet, I can think of nothing else.
So when I hear someone calling my name, it takes me several seconds to register it and several additional seconds to turn around and see what she wants.
“I talked to him,” she says, out of breath and flushed, as if she ran here. Does anything matter enough to run for anymore? “Did you hear me?” she asks when I haven’t answered quickly enough. Then again, I can’t even remember what she said.
“Huh?”
She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Blake? Hello? Are you listening? I talked to him. I talked to Zach.”
The name brings me back to reality with a searing rage. “Youwhat?How did you find him? Where was he? What did you say? What did he say?”
“I ran into him in the dining room and asked him everything. About that night. About them.”
Them.The word burns me from the inside out.
