One Year Later
"And he came back for Homecoming, just like he promised. Isn't he the sweetest?" Mey's smile takes up half the screen on my cell, and has been cemented in place from the moment I answered the video call. "I'm so happy his coach let him work it around football."
"You should have seen them together. They were the only couple who spent the entire dance sucking face in the back corner of the gym. Mr. Zhang had to pry them apart. Talk about nauseating!" Jordan pretends to stick her finger down her throat, and an exaggerated retch erupts from the opposite end of the phone.
Mey's shoulder lodges into Jordan's, and she almost falls off of Mey's bed, but the two are laughing so hard I know they're only playing.
"I'm sorry I missed it." I reposition my phone on my desk and smile back, but a crippling sense of homesickness pings through me all the same. "At least I got to see your Snaps. You guys looked amazing—even Kobe," I tease.
"Amazing? My boyfriend is more gorgeous now than ever, thank you very much."
When their giggles die down, a thoughtful expression takes over Jordan's face. "How are things going for you?"
I shrug. "Busy. Organic Chemistry is a giant pain, but nothing beats playing soccer at Dorrance Field. I thought I knew the game inside and out, but I've learned so much this season. Not only from the coaches, but the players too. And you'll never believe this," I say, pausing for dramatic effect, "but Mia Hamm was at our game last weekend."
Jordan's eyes nearly pop out of her head. "Mia Hamm watched you play soccer?"
I nod enthusiastically and lean forward in my seat. "Apparently she stops by when she's in town. If you come to Chapel Hill next year, maybe you'll even get to meet her."
"Wait a minute." Mey gives her a sideways frown. "I thought you were applying to Penn State with me?"
"I'm applying everywhere," Jordan says, combing a hand through her auburn waves. They're longer now than they were before, and the style compliments her full cheeks. "My grades aren't as good as yours, especially after I missed so much school last year. I'll be lucky if any college accepts me."
"Are you serious? You're going to get tons of offers. And if you don't, I will personally visit every dean that denies you and kick their scholarly ass." Mey hooks her arm around Jordan's shoulders and brings her in for a supportive squeeze.
Nostalgia swells in my chest as I observe my friends through the small screen. Last year at this time, they barely knew the other existed. Now, all that's changed. As different as they are, I never would have guessed they'd grow this close.
But the universe is funny that way. How it can take a tragedy and rip people apart, yet manage to bring others together. It doesn't seem fair to say it can be both a curse and a blessing.
"How's physical therapy?" I ask Jordan. "Are you walking without the cane yet?"
She shifts away from Mey's hold and grins. "Not yet, but I'm getting closer every day. And Coach has basically made me her unofficial assistant," she says. "I go with her to every practice and game, and she's even asking for my opinion on training exercises and movement patterns."
I give her a smile. "I know it's not the same as playing, but I'm glad she's keeping you involved."
"I'm not complaining. I thought my soccer days were doomed," Jordan says. "I think having me around makes her feel better after everything that happened. Like, she's making a positive difference in my life, or whatever—which she definitely is. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have soccer to fall back on."
A tentative question softens Mey's face. "How are your appointments with Dr. Wilder?"
I fiddle with a pen on my desk, twirling it between my fingers. "They're good. He started me on a new medication, and we still video chat twice a week. When I come home for Thanksgiving break, I'll see him in person. Rowan's been talking to him, too," I add.
Jordan tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "Because of the nightmares?"
At first, the response sticks in my throat. "Dad says they're getting better. She hasn't woken up screaming in a few weeks. It's a start, right? Every milestone is a victory. But I know she'll be okay. She's the strongest person I know."
"I know someone stronger." When Mey smiles, my eyes drop before gratefully reconnecting with hers.
We fall into a comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. To this day, no one knows the role Rowan played in what happened. How her cane was the catalyst in Stef's fall. I'm not even sure if it was intentional. But it's a detail I'll take to my grave.
Mey's the one who finally breaks the silence. "Have you talked to Smith lately?" She throws an uncertain look Jordan's way.
It's not too difficult to read between the lines. "He called a few days ago." I pause, trying to weigh the different ways I could approach this. I could take the easy way out and dance around my feelings. But that's not me anymore. If past experience has taught me anything, it's to be upfront and honest. Especially when I don't want to be. "Judging from your expressions, I'm guessing Kobe told you?"
Mey and Jordan exchange another glance before turning their gazes back to me.
"You guys, it's fine. Really." I try to smile, but the quiver brewing beneath my lips wants to betray me. "He said he's bringing Noelle home for break, and I think it's a great idea."
"But then you'll have to meet her," Jordan murmurs, catching her thumb nail between her teeth. "I'm sure they'll be at Emma's memorial service. Are you ready for that?"
"Actually, it was my suggestion. We're not together anymore and that's okay. I'm serious—stop looking at me like this is a tragedy! Smith and I will always be friends, but we're not meant for anything more than that. I'm happy he's moving on. I really truly am. I'm moving on too..."
Mey's eyes go wide. "That guy from your psych class?"
A sudden warmth flushes over my cheeks. "Maybe."
Jordan brings the phone closer until the background disappears and the only thing that fills my screen are their stupefied faces. "Are you dating someone?"
A giggle slips out before I can stop it. "Not exactly, but he did ask me out. We're grabbing something to eat after class."
Jordan waves her hand, encouraging me to continue. "Well? Does this guy have a name?"
"Brady." I try not to grin, and fail miserably. "It's not a big deal, it's only dinner."
"Only dinner. That's what they all say." Jordan playfully rolls her eyes.
I lift a shoulder in what I hope appears nonchalant. "It's true."
It is only dinner and I really am excited. Brady's great. He's smart. Funny. And way too easy to look at. But I'm not interested in hopping into another relationship. I know now that I don't need anyone else to make me feel complete. I'm taking my time and putting myself, and my health, first. I have a lot of healing to do before I'll be ready to let someone in. But that doesn't mean I can't look.
I cock my head and give them a grin. "I should go. I have to get ready for Calc."
"We miss you," Mey says, blowing kisses at the screen.
I pretend to catch them all. "I miss you guys, too. Thanksgiving will be here before you know it. I can't wait to hang out in person instead of on FaceTime!"
"Don't forget," Jordan says with a warning in her voice, "we want every last detail from your date."
My fingers crisscross over my chest before I end the call. I flip the phone over, screen side down, and sigh into the void.
I wasn't lying when I said I'm okay with Smith moving on. After Stef accused me of trying to steal Emma's life too, it forced me to dive into emotions I wasn't prepared to face.
Maybe part of me was jealous of Emma. It's easy to be dazzled by bold and sassy friends. Friends who know how to shine in every scenario and situation. Perhaps a piece of me that I didn't even know existed wanted that, too. To be someone else for a while, someone who didn't disappear like a chameleon into the background. Maybe I wanted to stand out for a change. To be the captain of the soccer team, and on the arm of the most handsome guy at school.
Not that I didn't love Smith. I did and always will. Everything about him is amazing; how safe I felt when I was with him, how he made me look at myself through someone else's eyes. But true love is about so much more, and when I asked myself what it was about Smith that made him special, I couldn't get past the idea that Emma loved him first.
Smith deserves more than that. And frankly, so do I.
I push away from my desk when my phone rings again. I reach over and look at the screen.
It's Jordan. I hit accept and lift it to my ear. "What's up?"
She sounds out of breath. "I wanted to catch you before you left for class." A car door slams in the background and an engine revs to life, the familiar hum of an air vent in the not too far off distance. Her voice is uncertain. "Did you get a letter from Juanita?"
Stef's mom. "It came yesterday. I'm sorry, I was going to call you but I needed some time to process it."
"It's okay." She sniffs on the other end. "I didn't want to rush you, but I've been dying to know if you got one, too. If you're not ready to talk about it, we don't have to."
I sink back into my chair. "Dr. Wilder would say I should. And I want to, it's just ... weird. After all this time, I thought I was getting a handle on things, but hearing from her brought it all back."
"I know the feeling, believe me." Jordan lets out an exasperated breath. "But it's a good thing, right? What she said about Stef?"
"Absolutely. It's just hard to think about. How she—" I stop, unable to go on.
After Stef fell from the window, she survived almost three months before succumbing to complications from her injuries.
At the time, I didn't know if I should be happy or sad. If she'd survived, she would have never lived the kind of life she dreamed of, and not just because she'd be confined to a six by eight foot cell. The trauma her body went through would have been a challenge under the best of circumstances. But with no family or loved ones to care for her, how lonely she would have been. Living out her final days in a federal prison's long-term care facility.
Something inside me couldn't stand for it. Yes, she tried to kill me, but after a few weeks passed, I decided the best way to move on was to speak with her. To find a way to understand. I went to the hospital, but she refused to let me in her room. Said she'd rather die than look at me.
But now, after reading her mom's letter, I know Stef's fear wasn't facing me—it was facing herself.
Jordan clears her throat. "Can I ask what your letter said?"
I swallow back the emotion that threatens to spill over. "She said how sorry she was about everything that happened." My vision blurs as my eyes travel across my dorm room. It's decorated with simple pleasures from home; a cushy gray bean bag chair that swallows me whenever I fall into it, a desk with my computer, and pictures of family, friends, and teammates decorating every wall. "She told me about Stef's childhood and how awful Benicio made it. How he'd forced them into that life. She said nothing will ever excuse what her daughter did, but she wanted me to understand how she'd fallen so far away." I hesitate before going on. "And she told me how sorry Stef was for what she'd done to Emma."
"That's what mine said too," Jordan says quietly. "Do you believe her?"
It's a question I've asked myself a million times over the past twenty-four hours. "I think so. What did she have to gain by lying? She could have taken the easy way out and never contacted us at all, which makes me feel like maybe Stef did have remorse. Maybe when you know you're dying, you look for peace before the end?"
"Maybe. It took her a while, but she did eventually tell the police where they'd buried Emma. She didn't have to say anything."
A chill crawls over me as the riddle Stef shared circles around in my head.
Round like an apple,
Deep like a cup,
Yet all the king's horses,
Cannot not pull it up.
When the police took my statement, I told them what she'd said, but when they questioned Stef, she refused to give them information.
At the time, I didn't understand why. She was in police custody, her body mangled beyond repair. Why not tell the truth?
Now I know. She'd lost everything, the freedom she craved, and the ability to escape and start again. It was the one piece of control she had left, and giving it up would have meant defeat. After everything she'd been through, I suppose I understand.
It still doesn't make it right.
Once again, law enforcement scoured every pond and lake in the vicinity of where Emma's truck was found. When they came back empty-handed, Stef finally, for reasons she never explained, caved. After Emma died, Stef and Benicio had searched the nearby fields for a place to bury her, finally stumbling across an old well in a patch of neglected brush.
The police found her body in November, a few days before Thanksgiving. Not the holiday we were expecting, but a thankful one all the same. Emma Giselle Navarro was finally put to rest.
Soon after, a For Sale sign appeared in the Navarro's front yard, and a young couple moved in with two little girls. Mom says watching them play together reminds her of me and Emma when we were that age.
"Can I ask you something?" Jordan's question interrupts my thoughts. "Do you ever think about Emma?"
I can't stop the tears now. They fall down my cheeks in salty streaks, but I don't apologize for them. Letting them out doesn't make me weak, but fills me with a strength I haven't felt in a long time.
"Every day. I think about how she should be here with me now, sharing my dorm room, and studying for finals. I can practically hear her ranting over the food in the cafeteria, and how it would be cruel to feed it to barnyard animals, let alone students. Still," a smile breaks through the tears, "she would have loved it here. So, I'm doing this for both of us. Last week, I officially made psychology my major. I'm going to be the doctor Emma dreamed of being. Not just because of her, but I want to help others who struggle with mental health, and feelings of not fitting in. Is that crazy?"
"It suits you. And I bet Emma, wherever she is, is really proud."
"I hope so." A cloud passes my window, filling the room with shadows. When the sun shines through a break, it's even brighter than before. "Do you think about Emma?" I ask.
Jordan's voice quivers. "All the time. I went to her grave the other day to apologize for acting like a bitch before she died. I can't believe it took me so long to say I'm sorry."
I understand what she means more than she realizes. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm sure Emma doesn't hold it against you. We all do things we regret sometimes, it's a part of life." I reach for my book bag and slide it around my shoulders. "I hate to cut you short, but I really do have to go."
"Okay." Jordan sniffles again. "I can't wait to see you. I hope the weeks fly by."
"Me too," I tell her. "It'll be good to be back home."
We say our goodbyes and I head out the door, greeting a couple of friends as they pass by in the hall. Before I hop into the elevator, I shoot a text to Brady, promising to call after class.
As I wait for the door to close, my thumb glides over the inside of my wrist. I pull up the sleeve and admire my tattoo. A few weeks ago, I added to my half of the yin and yang, making it a complete symbol. Now it represents both sides, and how opposites can complement each other like it's the most natural thing in the world. The same way my best friend and I once complimented each other. It's a little piece of Emma I'll carry with me always.
I wasn't sure I'd be able to do this; be so far away from home and on my own. Taking responsibility for myself and everything that goes along with it. But every day fills me with a sense that I belong here, that not only am I working hard but I'm doing a good job, too. This isn't how I thought college would be. I always imagined Emma by my side.
Maybe in some way she is?
As I leave the building, a warm autumn breeze stirs the rust-colored leaves along the path. It's in these quiet moments that I feel Emma's presence the most, like a whisper in the wind, telling me I'm stronger than I know.
And it always makes me smile.
The End
Thank you for reading Emma that is Dead! If you enjoyed this story, I'd be especially grateful if you added it to a public reading list! Writing is hard and it means the world when you show support! 🧡
If you're looking for more stories, you can find many for free on my profile at @Monrosey.
I hope you're satisfied with the ending. I tried to combine how everyone felt regarding whether Stef should live or die. In the end, I thought death would be kinder. After the life she lived, she deserved to find peace (even if she was a misguided soul). But I also wanted her to feel remorse for her actions before she passed, which I hope came through in her mother's letter.
✨Fun Facts✨
I tried to incorporate a few "Easter eggs" throughout the story, but it's my first attempt at doing something like that and they're pretty vague. Still, I'm proud! 😅
1.) The town of Menteuse, Ohio does not exist. Menteuse is actually a French word that means liar.
2.) Porkie Pies, which is the diner the kids go to after the football game, is actually slang for telling lies.
3.) Gull Lake, where Arbor's father lives. The definition of gull is a person who is easily cheated or deceived.
4.) Fibber's Ridge, where Jordan had her car accident. Fibber, as many of you probably know, is slang for being a liar.
✨Not-So-Fun Facts✨
Emma that is Dead was loosely inspired by real-life events. There are many imposter stories you can read about online or watch on YouTube. The real-life story that first caught my attention was the news report of a child named Timmothy Pitzen who went missing when he was six-years-old. Years later, a "teenage" boy appeared, claiming to be Timmothy. Since so much time had passed, police put him through a series of tests that determined he was lying. The real Timmothy Pitzen remains missing to this day.
The human trafficking angle came from my fear of this horrific real-life problem and how easily young victims are tricked by strangers they meet online.
If you're interested in reading another YA mystery/thriller with a dark academia vibe, I'm currently posting a story called
Sweet Deadly Lies. It's almost complete!
Logline: A boarding school on the coast of Maine. The unexplained death of a female student. A sister determined to find the truth...even if it kills her.