The Return

Chapter Twenty Eight

Wednesday April 26th 2021.

A lot had changed since the move. Not only did the covid lockdown drastically impact Red Stone's influx of customers, but it also affected the work shifts.

It might not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but it was a splinter in Holly's make-every-thing-right-with-Iris-so-she-can forgive-Holly and-give-their-friendship-a-proper-send-off plan.

"Thought you died?" Shannon Cotugno said by the register. The bubbly ginger wore a crimson branded button-down and a startled expression.

Before Holly's disappearance, Shannon worked the night shift and Liara Jackson worked the day. "The police were involved—"

"For like a day." Katherine Poston was the barista on duty. Wiping down a table by the ice dispenser, Katherine wasn't as bothered by Holly's reappearance.

Holly bit her bottom lip.

Shannon wasn't a big fan of the stunt Iris had pulled subjecting an entire café to gloomy pictures and videos when the theme of the joint was upbeat and upscale promising their patrons a smile with every meal.

"Iris lost her mind coming here every day and asking about you. Poor thing. I guess she thought you were missing and started putting posters up," Shannon shuffled back and forth between the register and kitchen window.

Holly detested the flare of anxiety low in her belly.

"After your aunt Ruth gave a public statement that you moved back in with your family, she stopped coming," Katherine said from the coffee machine.

Holly flinched.

Shit.

"Is Liara around?" Holly leaned against the marble countertop. Liara who was working her way up to assistant manager was more empathetic than Shannon.

Shannon shook her head.

"Will she be coming in soon?"

Holly wasn't sure how long she could wait. Time wasn't on her side.

"Wish we could help, Kiddo."

"Don't think she's left her house much," Katherine added.

Holly pressed her tongue against the walls of her cheek.

"Is she okay?"

"If you worked here, you would need a day or two off." Shannon yawned.

"Well... thanks anyway," Holly dropped her gaze to her feet.

She walked along the tables and chairs.

She felt awkward.

The clatter of plates against tables, the idle chatter of Red Stone regulars, and the hum of background music and she still felt like she was being watched.

She was. Ducked in the corner by the bathrooms in a plane black-don't-notice-me style face cap was him. Erin Marsh. Bard Roosevelt's own Mathlete champion, the good boy, and the school's pride and joy. They hadn't spoken since the breakup in Math class a week before covid rendered Bard Roosevelt unfit grounds for students and staff.

She settled on a booth at the back of the café by the window looking out into the livened street.

She plugged her ears and listened to Abigail's voice. The woman was a mother of three and worked with Vaughn for a short period of time at Littleton University in Kenwood. Holly didn't want to hear the assistant coach recount their encounters in the locker rooms.

She didn't want to think of how her father played her mother for a fool. But she needed to listen to Heaven's soft sniffles in the background as Abigail spoke with clarity and enthusiasm.