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First file, then the next, and another. Nothing alarming about these. I’m halfway through the box when one file makes me stop. Ruled a suicide, female, mid-twenties, long hair, bruises, signs of abuse. The body was found in an empty street with no witnesses.

I read it once, then again. The positioning is wrong, the scene is too clean, it doesn’t resemble him at all, at least not the him I’ve seen on other crime scenes.

Her personal effects were arranged with care.

I sit back slightly looking again at the picture. This isn’t a suicide, the chain marks match his signature, same size, same depth and same position, at least for me. I need to make sure it’s accurate.

I slide the file out of the stack and set it aside. One case doesn’t prove anything, but it’s enough to ask the right question.

I closed the box, fingers resting on the folder I didn’t put back.

He was here, I’m sure, he wasn’t isolated or careless, and he didn’t stop.

I think I have a lead here and it might be the best one I've had since I started studying this case.

16

Mireya

Play - Pink Skies By Zach Bryan

The Fear Of Temporary Peace

I tuck the last strand of hair into the plait I’m braiding down the side of my face as I make my way next door to check if Hayzel is ready for the meeting.

I’m less stressed than at the beginning. It’s only been two days, but I feel calmer already. My body reacts differently here, like it can finally breathe. I like it more than I should.

That’s what makes it worse. I know I’ll have to go back home, and home doesn’t feel like this. I didn’t realize how tense I usually am until I felt what it’s like not to be.

I hope Hayzel won’t notice it, because she would ask questions and I don’t want to talk about it now. I want her to feel happy to be here, not overthink why her best friend is depressed and fucking angry.

“Hayzel, come on. I haven’t got time–” I stop short as I open her door.

Hayzel holds up what appears to be a camera, making stupid faces at it. Her eyes fill with mirth as she notices me standing at the door.

“Reya, come on! Say something for the camera, we’re going to be the Class of 2010. I’m recording this for our graduation day.”

I let her film me, glaring at it before knocking it gently away from my face. It feels awkward and exposing, even if nothing bad is happening. Being seen feels intrusive. Hayzel just loves capturing moments, photos are her way of holding onto things. Drawing is mine. So, I get it.

“Yeah, and we’re not going to graduate if you don’t move your ass and make the trip to the meeting room,” I tell her casually before twisting on my heel to head out of her room.

I hear the sudden click and snap of the camera shutting off.

“You just took a picture of me?”

She smiles, “I did.”

“You have 10 seconds to get your ass out here,” I say, shaking my head.

“Ugh, fine, party pooper,” she snaps at me before meeting me outside in the hallway.

I nudge Blue back into my room as I blow him a quick kiss goodbye. I pray he doesn’t get up to no good here. He should be fine with his toys, and I put down some fresh food and water before I got up to get ready this morning, so it should last him until I get back this evening, but still.

“What class do we have next anyway?” Hayzel grumbles as I lock my door.

“We don’t have an actual class. It’s a short seminar with Professor Green.”

The morning air is fresh as it blows through the courtyard, and I give no thought about the bitterness of the ocean breeze as we push past the other students who are heading to their classes.