"Iris Lynn, you are under arrest for the murder of Emerald Lynn. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. . ." I tuned out Logan's voice as he chanted the protocol to Iris.
She remained quiet in one spot, unfazed by his words. Her eyes never left the wall and her breathing was steady. If one wasn't paying attention, it was easy to think she was dead. I remembered the look on her face when Christian and Logan arrived with their team. She'd agreed to turn herself in. It didn't take much convincing from them.
"Hey, are you okay?" Christian joined me in Emerald's room. I turned to him, then averted my eyes back on the bed. The prints from my hands were still molded into the blankets. My eyes wouldn't move from them.
"Yeah, I just need a minute." I sighed. There was a sense of relief in the air. It was enough to block out the reek of death. The feeling from earlier outside was a simple warning that I'd only understood the minute I barged into Emerald's room.
"This is where she died," I said, more to myself than him.
"I don't know how you got her to confess but you did good. I'm proud of you, Tyler. Really wish you wouldn't have put yourself in danger again . . . but I'm proud." Christian patted the back of my shoulder. I could feel the smile on his face—obnoxious—but prouder than anything.
I'm proud of you, he'd said. The words were simple, yet they meant so much. Soon after, his statement dawned on me.
"She needed someone to share her pain with. All I did was listen and share mine." Christian stared at me. Shamelessly. He didn't bother trying to hide it. He may not have said anything but he didn't need to. The pitiful look on his face, I was used to by now, spoke for him. It was the same frown that'd knit his eyebrows together, the same wrinkle in his forehead, and the same thin line of his lips that were all signs of the same reaction.
Finally, he opened his mouth, but I said something before he could. "I'll go to therapy. If it's going to help mom have a close chance of winning the custody battle, I'll do it."
Christian's mouth fell agape. The police officers around us continued with their jobs of searching the house, walking around Christian and I, as we stood posted in the middle of Emerald's bedroom. It wasn't everyday my brother was too stunned to speak.
"Honestly, I guess I've always needed a little more help than I give myself credit for. . . You guys better make sure I have a good therapist though," I scoffed under my breath.
"You're serious?" he breathed out.
"I am," I said.
Christian's laughter had my head whipping around so fast, I almost broke my neck. I glared at him, gritting my teeth. "What's so funny? I'm trying to have a moment with you here."
"It's just," he paused, laughing again, "I've always thought of you as a good kid who does stupid shit. But the stupid shit you do makes sense now. You doubt yourself a lot but you've always had a lot more to offer than you think."
The ghost of a smile on his face was still there. Whether he was complimenting me or insulting me, I wasn't sure. But if he was smiling and going along with it, then so was I.
"What's going to happen to Emerald and Iris' therapist?"
"I can't promise anything right now, but if push comes to shove, their therapist could be held liable for negligence. We'll see how far the investigation goes," Christian admitted.
I nodded. "Is it okay if I head over to the library? I need to talk to Mrs. Carol."
"Be back at a decent hour or I'll come looking for you," he said and I knew he wasn't joking.
"I promise I will." And for once, I mean it.
* * *
News reporters were running rampant around town; all of them attempting to get a piece of the investigation before it was dried out. I could already imagine all the different headlines being used to exaggerate the story. They'd use whatever they felt was fitting.
I rushed through the double doors of the library. Again, the blonde male was present with headphones plugged in his ears, standing behind the front desk checking out the patron's books. I scanned what felt like every inch of the library only to find Cecilia was nowhere in sight. So, I'd been left with two options: Either she wasn't here or she was upstairs again.
I breathed out a sigh under my breath, trying to push away the nerves rattling under my skin. The last time I was here, Mrs. Carol, Cecilia, and I didn't necessarily leave off on a good note. At least, that's how it felt to me. So, who's to say they'd welcome me with open arms today? I nearly tore apart what little bit of family they had left—each other.
I started up the stairs, my eyes were focused on the path in front of me. The determination in my body helped me to keep going without turning back. The door to the room revealed itself from behind the bookshelves.
"Mrs. Carol? Are you in there? I have some news you might want to hear." I pressed my head to the door, cuffing my ears and trying to listen. From the other side, I heard nothing. I gripped the doorknob, twisting both ways, to no avail.
"She's not there." I jumped back, startled by the voice in my ear. Cecilia's body nearly pressed against mine, her breath easing down the skin on my neck. I cleared my throat and backed away, distancing myself a few feet away from her.
"She went to the bathroom. She'll be back in a few minutes." Cecilia twirled a book in between her hands and looked down. I cocked my head to the side, moving it with hers. There was nothing particularly interesting on the floor, unless she found something in the specs of dust floating around that I didn't.
"Are you okay?" I asked. It wasn't hard to tell she was avoiding eye contact with me. Her use of body language and unusual head movements were a dead giveaway.
"Yeah." She shrugged.
An answer like that was the last thing I expected from Cecilia, who always greeted me with an attitude. Any other conversation between us and she would've had the last word. As long as there was that grimace of annoyance on her face and the bark in her bite when she spoke, I knew so. So, I couldn't help but worry if my presence made her uncomfortable now.
"Is your mom okay?" I bit my bottom lip.
"She's . . . neutral." She shrugged again. "She's not mad or anything, if that's what you're wondering. I mean, of course she isn't going to be okay with what happened over night, but nothing has changed. Well, nothing has changed with her, but everything has changed in her life. Does that make sense?" Cecilia put an end to her rambling.
I nodded. "Yes. I wouldn't have expected anything less. After all, it was rude of me to bring that up out of the blue." I tilted my head back, glancing up at the light on the ceiling. Its bright fluorescent rays stung my eyes but I resisted from reacting.
Knowing Mrs. Carol wasn't mad, calmed my nerves to an extent. As long as she wasn't beating herself up over not knowing the truth, I'd let her handle it however she needed to. If she needed to dance across the man's grave for the sake of her sanity, I wouldn't stop her. I mean, seriously, who would tell her no? After all, I assumed she was the one who buried him.
"Why are you here?" Cecilia looked up at me.
"Oh yeah, I um, I had something to tell Mrs. Carol. I'm sure there's rumors going around right about now that Iris was arrested for the murder of Emerald. I wanted to see if she heard."
"Iris?" Cecilia's mouth hung in shock. "It was Iris all along?"
"Emerald's mom did the killing. Emerald's therapist did nothing to prevent it," I said.
"Unfortunately, we always sensed something was off with Iris. I didn't have to talk to her to know. Being close to her was enough," another voice joined our conversation.
Cecilia and I turn in a hurry. Mrs. Carol's elbow rested against the wooden railing, her chest leaning over it, and her eyes wandering over the library's first floor. Cecilia sent me a side-eyed glance before marching towards her mother. I didn't understand what that was about until she stood beside Mrs. Carol with her arms crossed over her chest.
She then nudged her head to the side and patted the spot beside her. After a moment of confusion, I realized she was inviting me over. So, I went. Something was different between them. Nothing bad from what I could tell, but that didn't make the air any less tense.
"I'm sure there'll be articles explaining Emerald's death further in detail by tomorrow," said Cecilia. A hum seeped from in between Mrs. Carol's lips as her palm caressed the railing.
"You know, it's sad. . . She didn't even get the proper burial she deserved." Mrs. Carol bowed her head slightly. My guess was, to refrain herself from crying. I didn't dare add anything to the conversation. Bad enough, she needed time to soak it in.
There was no use in using kid gloves around Mrs. Carol. She'd just ask you to add fuel to the flame, and she'd let it burn her to ashes, because she didn't mind. She could take it, I had to remind myself of that. Her being blind didn't make her any more helpless than the rest.
"I'll be right back. . . I'm going to grab you some napkins." Cecilia, seeming to have noticed Mrs. Carol's pained stance, awkwardly slithered away. As soon as Cecilia disappeared down the stairs, Mrs. Carol's tears dried up almost instantly.
"Good. She's gone for now."
"Huh?" I frowned.
"I'm sorry. I needed a minute alone with you. I've been thinking about something and I needed to confirm with you." She placed both hands on her white cane. Everything about the serious expression on her face made me not want to speak. The light tapping of her fingernails against the top of her white cane only played with my nerves too.
"You can be honest with me. Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything. I just need to know"—she pointed in my direction, poking the thin material of my shirt—"you didn't know Emerald at all, did you? Not even as an acquaintance."
I choked. I was expecting her to say I'm just kidding or something along those lines but it never came. I hunched over, punching my chest with just the right amount of strength.
"W-what?" I managed to spit out.
Her lips curved up, a grin eating at her face. "Emerald's never had any friends, except for the boy she talked to here. And I was the one person she told everything to. So, why would I believe for a second she'd have a random acquaintance named Tyler who's not even her age?"
"H-how. . ." I shook my head. "How did you—"
"What? Figure it out? Well, I could've called you out when we first met, but you knew things that were interesting to me. Tyler, you remind me of someone I know. Someone with a gift just like you. . ." she whispered.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I didn't know what to say. Already, I was planning how I was going to back out of this situation. The staircase was right beside us and there were a few exits surrounding us on the second floor. So, making a run for it wouldn't be too hard of a task. Especially, if I slipped away unknown and unheard.
"Um, I'm sorry, I-I don't know what you're talking about," I feigned ignorance.
She ignored my comment and went on, "If I may ask, how did you know where to find me? And how did you know to start with me? Who gave you my name? There are so many other people in this town, yet you found yourself here, where Emerald spent most of her time."
I wanted to shout that I had no idea what she meant, but I couldn't. There was no way in hell I'd be able to when she was telling the truth. The taunting smirk on her face challenging me to deny her claims again didn't go unnoticed.
"A man pointed me in this direction. He knew Emerald and Iris. That's all." That wasn't necessarily a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.
"A man you say, huh? And how did you find him? Don't worry, Tyler. Your secret is safe with me. I'm well aware of what you can do. You don't have to pretend." She lowered her voice, laughing. I shook my head in denial. I refused to believe someone figured it out on their own. That someone knew. There was no way. I'd never met anyone like me.
"But I never said anything about a gift!"
"You didn't have to. I knew all along when an old friend mentioned you." Her words were a punch in the gut. I knew all along. Again, and again, that sentence plagued my mind. If she knew all along, why would she pretend? Why didn't she call me out and instead stringed me along? Why did she continue to treat me normal? A friend, she said.
"A friend? What do you mean? Who's your friend? And what do you know about the gift?" I narrowed my eyes, needing to make sure we were on the same page. Maybe she meant something other than what my paranoia told me. It only made sense, right? I couldn't imagine Mrs. Carol having the same ability as me before she lost her vision.
"You've already met him. The same man who pointed you to me. As for the gift, it's the gift to feel the spirits around, isn't it? Or something like that." She laughed under her breath. I froze.
I knew where she was going with this but I couldn't speak.
"You remember Jefferson, don't you? He's the proud owner of Grandpa Jefferson's Diner. He told me all about you when you two met. He said you reminded him of himself when he was younger. Running around asking questions about stuff you had no business asking.
"Anyways, after he told me that, I knew you'd be able to solve Emerald's murder. So, I didn't stop you. He wasn't sure if you had the gift at first. But now, we know for sure you do." The pride in her tone was most noticeable.
The same face of the man I'd been confiding in for answers and hanging out at his diner, flashed before me. It was like a bucket of ice-cold water being tossed on me in my sleep, and it told me that I wasn't the only one.