THE VELVET KILLERS

(11) PLAYING WITH FIRE WILL GET ONE BURNT

I nod, feeling empty inside.

"I never got to tell her my feelings, and I wonder if things would've been different if she knew..." I admit, taking a deep breath. 

Lia nods, comprehensive. 

"Sometimes it is harder to let go of the dead if we have some unfinished business, that's for sure..." she then comments, visibly moved. As I frown, she continues and says softly: "I lost my sister a few years ago, she overdosed. Worse part is that we had this big fight the night of her death before she went to that party. I'll never forgive myself for that."

Setting my jaw, I slowly reach for her hand, grabbing it while staring at her, while she just stares into the void, a tear falling down her cheek. 

Smiling sadly, Lia listens as I say:

"I am sorry."

"Seems like we both lost someone we can't forget, and that's all right: we wouldn't be human if not." the brunette says, squeezing my hand.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die."

Lia stares at me, in awe, as my own eyes are wet now. 

"Mary Elizabeth Fyre" she then cites, a sad yet beautiful smile on her face for a second, before she stares at me.

Her eyes catch mine, as our fingers are still entangled, as if we just couldn't let go of each other now. 

When we slowly lean in at the same time, both hesitant but somehow burning with desire, the wheel starts turning again, making us jumps off of each other, before bursting into laughter: it wasn't for today, but maybe it would be for one day.

The rest of the day goes on smoothly, as I couldn't take my eyes off Lia - she even made me forget about the threatening text I got today...

***

INGRID

A. Putellas: so far, so good - keep an eye on your co-writer.

Rolling my eyes - of course Alexia's first text to me for two or three years would be as impersonal as this. I don't even bother answering, because I know it wouldn't matter to her. As I am seated at my desk, with a cup of coffee in hand, and three computers screens in front of me - I stayed out late last night, trying to do researches on whatever I could find. 

After several hours, when the sun had risen at last, I drove straight at the office, arriving around 5:30 AM, two hours before the others would arrive. I have to find a way to make Alexia and Leah's stories reliable... I need to protect Leah first and foremost... After conducting researches on our former friends and acquaintances, I came across from an old photograph that made me raise my eyebrow.

When I hear the door open, I instantly hide it, before turning around and seeing Frida entering the room... nervously? At least her facial expression was quite alarmed, as she immediately came to me and shows me her phone screen:

Hidden number: Keep on working with the devil, and you'll suffer the consequences like wood burning in the flames of Hell. 

I suddenly lose my breath. 

"I don't know what you've done" Frida starts, her voice surprisingly chill, "but someone really hates you out there, and for once it isn't me."

"Please, you don't hate me, we both know it" I sarcastically let out, as Frida smirks, rolling her eyes at me.