What She Left Behind ✔️

chapter five

"This is the place," I announce, pointing to the rundown auto body shop.

"Marco works here?" Levi cringes. "Honestly, Gemma, I don't even want to park my car here."

I laugh as he reluctantly pulls into the parking lot. We step outside and approach the garage. Inside, I see two mechanics working on cars. I clear my throat. Both stop what they're doing and look at me, their grease-painted faces contorting in confusion.

"My, you're the prettiest thing to show up here in a while," one of them says.

I roll my eyes. "I'm looking for someone," I tell them. "Marco Diaz? I'm pretty sure he works here."

"'Works' is giving him too much credit," the other mechanic says. "He more or less sits around and pretends to know what the hell he's doing."

"Can't say I'm surprised," I mutter.

"He ain't here, though. He hasn't come to work in almost a week. He's as good as fired."

"Too bad. Looks like we should head home," Levi says, tugging at my sleeve like a frightened child.

"Hold up." I turn to the mechanic who tried the one-liner on me. "Do you know where he hangs out? He must spend a lot of time in nearby bars or something, right?"

"Nah, he's sober. Most boring guy I've ever met," he replies. "Sorry we can't be of more help."

With a sigh, we return to Levi's car. He buckles up and spins out of the parking lot, clearly eager to return to a safer part of the city. Although we both grew up in Chicago, we're not familiar with South Side.

"Slow down!" I warn him.

"Sorry." He drops to a safer speed. "That place gave me the creeps."

"Same," I agree.

"So what do we do now?" he asks. "Want to just go home?"

"I want to go home, but I feel like I'm supposed to go to my parent's house."

"Why? Did you have plans with them?"

"No," I reply. "Evangeline arrived this afternoon."

My mom wasn't joking when she flashed her foster license and said she wanted to take in Evangeline. She and Waverly sorted everything out this morning. For the next few months, the six year-old is going to be sleeping in my old bedroom. And since I'm the person Raelyn chose to care for Evangeline, I think I should at least go and say hi.

"I can't believe your parents are fostering her," Levi says. "That's so strange."

"Tell me about it. I didn't even know fostering was something they were interested in."

"At least you know Evangeline will be well-cared for. Some foster homes are brutal."

"True."

"Anyway," he goes on, "how was your first day back to work?"

"It was... odd," I reply. "When I told Ella that Raelyn died, she didn't ask me to do anything, not even get her coffee, all day."

"She probably felt bad for you," he remarks.

Levi is right, but it was still bizarre. Because news spreads fast and we work for a literal newspaper, everyone knew about my best friend's suicide by the end of the day. People I had never met were offering their condolences and casting sad glances in my direction. I was hoping that returning to work would be a good distraction, but it seems that it's just going to be another reminder of Raelyn and the mess she left behind.