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I know moving won’t make my problems disappear, but I am hoping it cracks that hard shell of a wall around me. Some people may be able to deal with change, no matter how big or small, and live day to day; some even out of a suitcase, moving wherever the mood takes them. I also know I’ll never be that person. But I need to do it, and I’ve not wanted or needed anything in over a year.
The feeling is strange, but I’m pushing past it and moving forward. I guess I just wanted you to know I’m not leaving you behind or forgetting you. You’ll always be in my heart, my life, my mind. How could you not? You were the best sister anyone could ever wish for.
I love you, and I promise to write again soon.
Yours always,
Emma.
CHAPTER ONE
Prom Night
Two Years Ago
It’s finally the end of school year, the end of a gruelling two weeks of final exams, and some of the students are throwing an after prom party to celebrate.
A few weeks ago, I had been excited about it, had planned for a night filled with laughter and fun.
But ever since my sister died from overdosing on tainted drugs, my life has been void of any joy, of anything other than a roaring darkness threatening to swallow me whole, and a need for answers.
For the past few weeks, I’ve focussed all my attention on finding out who sold her those drugs, denying my grief any outlet.
After many sleepless nights, all my time spent on my hunt, I found the proof I needed. I’d watched as Darren, my best friend’s boyfriend, sold drugs to her brother—and made sure to get it on camera.
I’d sent her the picture, did my part as a friend, and now I’m ready to go to the police.
But it seemed fate had other plans when Cowen—my friends twin brother—climbed onto the roof of Banner’s house.
“Hey, Emma, Luke’s looking for you. He’s in the kitchen,” Harry, Luke’s best friend, asks. Luke is my boyfriend, who has barely said two words to me tonight.
“Okay, thanks,” I tell him, glancing at Cowen one last time before heading back inside the house. I’ve already called Lake to tell her.
Banner’s house is huge. His parents are lawyers or doctors or something. I’m not sure. Even though we hang out in the same crowd, we’ve never been close. But whatever it is they do, they must get paid well. I’m surprised they’ve let him have a party. Everything seems expensive. Even the kitchen table is made from thick marble and is surrounded by cream, leather chairs.
With the kids in our school, something in here is bound to get broken or stained, with the amount of alcohol flowing.
I find my boyfriend, swaying on his feet next to the fridge, and inwardly groan. We’ve been going out with each other for six months, and in that time, he’s done nothing but annoy me. Before I agreed to go out with him, he seemed so well put together, smart, and fun. Now he’s a slobbering idiot who acts like a two-year-old when he’s had a sip of beer.
I’m ready to turn around and leave, but he sees me. “Emma! We have to talk.”
“I’m busy, Luke, can’t this wait? I’m meeting Lake outside.”
He staggers his way over to me, his eyes glazed over. “You know, I tried to be your boyfriend, your friend, but you’re making it hard. It’s been weeks since you lost your sister; you need to move on,” he slurs.
My blood runs cold at the mention of my sister. And even though he’s highly intoxicated right now, he means every word. It’s been a long time coming.
“What?” I whisper, too appalled at his behaviour. “Why would you say that? She was my sister, Luke. I can’t just move on.”
“Whatever,” he grunts, waving his hand at me. “What I’m trying to say is I’m sleeping with Laurie Price. She pays me attention, gets me.”
I glance away, unable to look at him without feeling sick. I’m not hurt he’s cheated; I’m relieved. The only reason I’ve held on for so long is because I needed some sort of attachment to my old life, to the me before my sister died. I’m also pissed, because he could have told me another way, not drunk and in a room full of people.
“Okay,” I say, not willing to show him any kind of emotion, and turn to walk away. He laughs, and my spine stiffens with the condescension in his tone, but I pivot to face him once more. “What?”
“You’re such a bitch,” he yells, gaining everyone in the kitchen’s attention. I scan over the crowd of faces, friends from school, and blink back tears at the whispers and stares. I had enough of it when my sister died.
“You’ve had a lot to drink, Luke. I’ll talk to you when you’re sober.”
