It's scary to think that one day we're going to have to live without our mother or father or brother or husband or wife. Or that one day we're going to have to this Earth without our best friend by our side, or them without us. Appreciate your loved ones while you can, because none of us are going to be here forever. - Unknown
As I sat by my mother's bedside, the sterile hospital room enveloped me in a suffocating embrace. The faint beeping of machines and the distant chatter of nurses formed a dissonant symphony that echoed my inner turmoil.
It had been a week since the accident that had changed everything. My mother, once vibrant and full of life, now lay motionless on the hospital bed. Every day was a battle between hope and fear, as I clung to memories of happier times when our family was whole.
Every day, without fail, Jon would drive me to the hospital where my mother fought for her life. We sat together in the sterile waiting room, our silence speaking volumes as we clung to each other for support.
School had become a distant memory, replaced by the haunting image of my mother's fragile form lying motionless on crisp white sheets. Jenna, a kind soul from my mother's bakery, took it upon herself to gather our assignments and bring them to us each day. But academics seemed trivial in comparison to the battle being waged within the hospital walls.
Visiting hours became both a blessing and a curse as I sat vigil at my mother's bedside.
I pored over old photographs with my mother, hoping that each memory shared would bring her back to me. The laughter captured in those snapshots felt like echoes from another lifetime, one where happiness was abundant and pain was just a distant shadow.
Days turned into nights as we waited anxiously for any sign of improvement. The beeping of machines and the hushed whispers of nurses became the soundtrack to our lives in that sterile hospital room.
My mind wandered back to the school play that I had been so excited to be a part of. Mr. Haggerty, my English teacher and the director of the play, had been kind enough to keep me updated on its progress while I was away.
I knew that Mr. Haggerty was more than capable of putting on a successful production without me. He had shown me footage of the auditions and rehearsals, and everything looked perfect. The props were beautifully crafted; the sets were elaborate, and the costumes were stunning.
Jon's sudden appearance broke me out of my sombre reverie, a small smile tugging at my lips as he presented me with a doughnut and a bottle of Sprite.
"I thought you might need a little pick-me-up."
"You went all the way to my mom's bakery for this?" I asked, touched by his gesture.
"I thought having one of her recipes might make you feel better," Jon replied with a sheepish grin. "If I had time, I would have made it myself, but we both know how that would have turned out."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of Jon's failed attempt at replicating my mom's chocolate doughnuts. Despite his lack of culinary skills, his effort meant more to me than he could ever know.
Appreciative of his effort, my mom spent the afternoon with both of us teaching us how to make her chocolate glazed doughnuts.
"How is everyone doing?" I asked Jon, genuinely concerned about our extended family at the bakery.
"They're holding up as best as they can," Jon replied solemnly. "They're keeping things running until your mom wakes up."
Everybody at the bakery had taken my mom's accident really hard.
She - I almost said was - is loved by so many people in this town. Everyone knows her. Her desserts are ordered for nearly every event that happens in town.
She also knows how to throw a great party. She and my dad.
We often had barbeques on Sunday where everyone was welcomed.
Everyone congregated at our house after church and us kids played together, adults shared a conversation.
Ah, the simpler times. What I wouldn't do to return to such a time.
My heart swelled with gratitude towards our makeshift family at the bakery – Jenna, Florence, Elisa, Laura, Katerina, Faith – each person playing a vital role in keeping things afloat during this difficult time.
Mom and dad went to school with Jenna and Florence.
Elisa was a nice young woman who often came to our family's barbeques with her parents. The same with Laura.
Katerina is a quiet girl from school, who had never given me any problems. Our paths just never really intersected until she began working at the bakery. Nothing bad to be said about her.
Faith is the newest employee, but everyone, especially customers, love her. She is very bubbly and vibrant. I don't think, in the time I've known her, I've ever seen her with anything other than a smile on her face.
I turned back to my mother lying still on the hospital bed, her face serene amidst all the chaos surrounding her.
"You hear that mom," I whispered, squeezing her hand tightly. "Your girls are holding down the fort until you come back to us. We're here waiting for you."
Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could've sworn I felt her hand squeeze mine.
Excitement surged through me as I turned to Jon with wide eyes. "She squeezed my hand! Did you see that?"
Jon smiled reassuringly at me. "Maybe it's a sign that she's fighting her way back to us."
"Maybe."
The door creaked open, and Doctor Moore entered, her expression grave yet gentle.
"I'm Doctor Moore," she began softly. "I've been caring for your mother since she arrived here. I know this must be incredibly difficult for you." Her words were like a balm to my wounded soul.
Before I could respond, Doctor Moore stepped back and ushered in two figures who loomed large in the room - Detectives Carillo and Lambert.
They offered their condolences before getting down to business.
"We believe your mother may have been on her phone at the time of the accident," Detective Carillo said gravely. "Do you think that's possible?"
I shook my head adamantly. "No, she would never do that. She always puts safety first."
The detectives exchanged glances before showing me a piece of paper with an unfamiliar number on it - 647-418-4215.
"When we found your mom's car, her phone had just received a call from this number. Do you recognize it?" Detective Carillo asked.
I squinted at it for a moment before shaking my head once more. "No, I've never seen that before."
Jon took a look as well, but also came up empty-handed.
"Ms. Masterson," Detective Lambert spoke up next. "Do you know where your mother might have been heading?"
I wracked my brain for answers but came up short. "I thought she was at work... she left at her usual time."
"Can you tell us where you were when your mother was involved in the accident?" Detective Lambert asked, his voice gentle but probing.
"I was at home," I replied quietly. "I didn't witness it or even know it had happened until I received a call from the hospital."
Jon reached out and squeezed my hand in silent support as I recounted the events leading up to that fateful moment. The detectives listened intently, jotting down notes as they sought to piece together the puzzle of what had occurred.
"Could she have been going to the school?" Detective Carillo pressed further.
I shook my head. "No, we've been working on our assignments from home. There's no reason for her to go there."
"What assignment are you working on?" Detective Lambert asked curiously.
I hesitated before answering, glancing at Jon for support. "It's about the town's disappearances," I admitted reluctantly.
The detectives exchanged a knowing look before focusing back on me with intense gazes.
"How long have you been researching this topic?" Detective Carillo probed carefully.
"Since we got the assignment. About two months," I admitted, feeling a knot form in the pit of my stomach.
"Right around the time of the murder," Detective Lambert observed keenly.
Jon and I exchanged a worried glance before he spoke up. "Um, yeah."
"Why pick such a dark topic?" Detective Carillo questioned with furrowed brows.
"Well, it's no secret of my fascination with mysteries," I explained nervously. "I don't hide it."
"Now, Detective Lambert tells me you received notes from an anonymous source."
I swallowed hard before responding, "Which I turned over."
"I thought it was a joke... a prank by some kids at school," I confessed hesitantly.
"But it wasn't." His statement hung heavy in the air, accusing and probing all at once. "Then why didn't you tell someone? If not the authorities, why not your mother?"
My heart clenched at the mention of her - my mother, who had been through so much already.
As memories of my father flooded back to me - his absence still felt keenly even after all these years - I felt a surge of protectiveness towards my mother wash over me like a tidal wave crashing against rocky shores. "All she does is go, go, go... Maybe this is my way of protecting her," I whispered hoarsely. "My mother... she doesn't need this added pressure on top of everything else she's been through."
Detective Lambert studied me intently. "But this person warned you to stop digging. Why did you ignore those warnings?"
A surge of frustration bubbled up within me as I blurted out, "Because I need to know! It eats away at my soul, not knowing things."
They exchanged a glance before focusing their attention on Jon, who corroborated my insatiable curiosity for mysteries and puzzles. "Why didn't you tell someone? If not the authorities, why not your mother?"
"My mother had been through so much in the past few years. She doesn't understand the word 'stop.' All she does is go, go, go." My voice cracked as I struggled to hold back tears. "Maybe this was my way of protecting her."
Carillo nodded slowly as if understanding. "But from what we've gathered, this person urged you to stop digging into these disappearances. Why did you continue?"
"Because... Because I need to know," I confessed softly. "Not knowing eats away at me."
They exchanged glances before turning their attention to Jon who stood by silently observing our conversation.
"It's true," Jon spoke up suddenly. "Harley doesn't do well with unanswered questions."
Detective Lambert raised an eyebrow as she looked back at me curiously. "Ah, so that's why you 'helped' Sheriff Reyes with so many cases."
I nodded slowly before adding quietly, "That and being in the right place at the right time."
"Now most of these letters seemed to be professing their love for you. Have you noticed anyone acting out of the ordinary or felt like you were being watched?" Detective Carillo inquired, his eyes searching mine for any hint of deception.
"I already answered these questions with Detective Lambert," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil within me.
"I know. I'm just looking for some... clarification that may help with our other ongoing investigation," he explained cryptically.
"You mean Mr. Killian's death? I thought you guys said he committed suicide," Jon interjected, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"We never said anything. Not officially at least," Detective Lambert responded coolly.
"So you're admitting it's a possibility that he did not kill himself?" Jon pressed further, sensing a crack in their facade.
"I cannot comment on the investigation. It's still ongoing. But we are looking into all possibilities in this case," Detective Carillo stated evasively.
Jon and I exchanged a knowing glance, silently communicating our shared suspicion that there was more to Mr. Killian's death than met the eye.
His death had put an end to the anonymous letters I had been receiving. But it also raised more questions than answers.
"Yes, I would agree the notes were romantic in nature. But, I don't know for sure if anyone was watching me," I admitted reluctantly, unsure of how much information to divulge to these detectives who seemed more interested in their own agenda than finding out the truth.
"The first time we started researching for our project, something strange happened," I began, my voice shaky. "The lights went out suddenly while we were in the middle of our work."
"Why were you upset?" Detective Carillo asked, his gaze piercing.
"I had just found out that a friend had lied to me," I replied, feeling the weight of that betrayal once again.
"Which friend was this?" he prodded further.
"Damon Johnston... or should I say, Haggerty," I corrected myself. "His father is actually Mr. Haggerty's brother and related to Kirsty Lavell's mom, Karen."
Detective Lambert seemed genuinely surprised by this revelation, but gestured for me to continue.
"We thought it was just a glitch when the power went out," I explained. "Jon fixed it, but then I thought I saw someone outside. So I sent Jon out with my baseball bat while I armed myself with a hammer."
As I recounted the events of that night, the detectives listened intently and took notes. It felt surreal to relive those moments under their scrutiny.
"Then Mr. Haggerty showed up at our door, claiming he saw someone in our backyard," I added. "But he couldn't identify them, because he hadn't seen their face."
Detective Carillo's piercing gaze locked onto mine. "Why didn't you report this?"
"I thought it was just a random thief who got scared off," I replied hesitantly.
Carillo shifted in his seat. "We've received no reports of such incidents in your neighbourhood. And with recent events..." He trailed off, turning his attention to Jon.
The room fell silent before Carillo continued, "You were attacked at Ms. Masterson's house not long ago?"
Jon nodded grimly.
"Do you think these incidents could be connected?" Lambert probed further.
"I can't say for sure," Jon admitted. "But whoever attacked me was shorter than Mr. Killian."
Carillo leaned back, studying us both closely before addressing me again. "Do you have any enemies who might want to harm you?"
Jon ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice as he listed off potential enemies - Jake Clemons and Mr. Haggerty included.
"Your teacher? Why do you suspect him?" Carillo's curiosity was piqued.
"I've always felt like he doesn't particularly like me," Jon confessed. "I can't explain it, but there's just something off about our interactions."
Turning towards me, Carillo raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "And what about you, Ms.Masterson? How has your experience with Mr. Haggerty been?" Carillo scribbled something down in his notebook before turning to me again. "Was Mr. Haggerty ever hostile towards you?"
I shook my head. "No, he's always been polite to me. We actually share a love of literature."
The detectives conferred quietly for a moment before turning back to me with serious expressions.
"We need to consider all possibilities," Carillo began gravely. "We can't rule anyone out at this point."
Detective Lambert nodded in agreement. He glanced at his partner before turning back to me and Jon.
"We'll need to keep you both in the loop as we continue our investigation. In the meantime, we advise you to stay vigilant and report any suspicious activity to the authorities immediately. Is there anyone you'd like us to speak with, or any other information that could be helpful?"
Jon and I shared a look before shaking our heads.
"Very well," Detective Carillo concluded. "If anything else happens, we urge you to contact us immediately."
The detectives thanked us for our cooperation and left the room, promising to keep us updated on their investigation.
As the door closed behind them, I felt a sense of unease settle over me. Despite their assurances, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were in danger. I glanced at Jon, who seemed equally concerned.
"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Jon offered. "I could sleep on the couch."
"I would feel much safer if we were in the same room," I replied.
"Alright. Why don't we head home? We can come back tomorrow. The doctor will call if anything changes."
"Okay."
I stood from my mother's bedside, grabbing my jacket and pulling it on.
Bending over, I placed a kiss on her forehead.
"We'll be back soon, mama."
I glanced at Jon, who nodded in agreement. He took my hand in his, squeezing it gently as we made our way out of the room. The hospital hallway was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow over everything. I shivered slightly, pulling my jacket closer around me.
"Are you okay?" Jon asked, noticing my shiver.
"I'm just...on edge," I admitted. "It's hard not to be, with everything that's been happening."
We exited the hospital and stepped out into the crisp night air. The cold seeped through my clothes, making me shiver again. Jon wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.
"Here," he said, handing me his coat. "You can wear this."
"What about you?"
"I'm fine. I promise."
I slipped my arms into the coat, relishing the warmth it provided. We began to walk briskly through the quiet streets, both of us on high alert. The tension between us was palpable as we made our way home.
As we turned onto our street, I noticed a strange car idling in front of our house. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced at Jon, who seemed to have noticed it as well. He gripped my hand tightly, and we quickened our pace. When we reached my front door, he pulled out my keys, which I had asked him to hold, and unlocked it in a practiced motion.
We stepped inside and closed the door behind us, both of us still on high alert. The living room was dark and silent, but there was a feeling of unease in the air. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching us.
"Did you see that car out front?" I whispered to Jon, trying to keep my voice down.
He nodded silently, his eyes narrowing as he studied the shadows outside. "I did. It wasn't there earlier."
I bit my lip, feeling a mixture of fear and anger rising within me. "Should we call the police?"
Jon hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "Not yet. We don't know for sure what's going on. Let's just be careful and see if anything else happens."
We crept slowly through the house, checking every room and corner before settling into the living room. Sitting on the couch, we leaned against each other for support, our eyes darting between the shadows outside and the television screen.
"Maybe it was just a coincidence," I suggested, trying to calm the racing thoughts in my head. "Maybe they were just here to visit a friend or something."
Jon didn't look convinced. "Yeah, maybe," he said, his voice lacking conviction. "But why would they park in front of your house?"
I shivered again, more from the thought of someone being here, in my safe little space, than from the cold night air. "I don't know. It's just...unsettling."
Jon nodded in agreement, but his eyes were still fixed on the darkness outside. "We should try to get some sleep. Maybe if we're tired enough, we won't be so jumpy."
I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Almost a deep sense of foreboding.
I swallowed hard, feeling my heart racing as I glanced at my best friend, Jon. He looked just as uneasy as I felt. The events of the past few weeks had been playing on our minds constantly, and now this? It was like something out of a bad horror movie.
The strange car had been idling outside my house for what seemed like hours, its headlights casting an eerie glow onto the street. I peeked through the curtains and watched as a woman got into the passenger seat and the car drove away.
My heart rate finally began to return to normal, and I let out a shaky breath. "Thank God," I murmured to my best friend, Jon. "I was starting to get really worried there."
He nodded in agreement, his face pale in the dim light of the living room. "Me too. I mean, it could have been nothing, but after everything that's happened..." His voice trailed off, and he shivered.
I settled down beside him, reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "I know. I'm just glad they're gone now."
The silence that fell between us was heavy, and I couldn't help but feel like there was something more we should be saying. Something that we needed to get off our chests. Maybe it was the stress of everything that had happened lately, or maybe it was the fact that we had spent so much time researching the town's past over the past few weeks. Whatever it was, there was an undeniable tension in the air whenever we were around each other.
I glanced at Jon, my heart racing a little faster when our eyes met. His gaze was intense, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel my cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and something else...something that felt a lot like desire.
At least, from what I read in novels.
Jon nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I'm always here for you, you know that." He reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek, his fingers lingering against my skin for a moment longer than necessary. I felt a flutter in my stomach, a warmth spreading through my chest.
I tried to focus on the television, anything to distract myself from the strange sensation in my chest. "Yeah, well, thanks. I know I can always count on you." My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears.
Jon's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily. "Of course you can. I'm always here for you." His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw something else there. Something more than friendship. Something...intimate.
My heart raced as I took in his features: the strong jawline, the full lips, the dark hair that fell into his eyes. He was beautiful, and for a split second, I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To feel his lips against mine.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. His gaze never wavered from mine, and there was something in the way he looked at me that made my stomach flip-flop. It was like he was seeing me in a whole new light, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
As we continued to stare at each other, the air between us seemed to thicken, the tension growing more intense with each passing second. My heart raced, and my breath came in short, shallow gasps. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I knew he could see it too.
I couldn't help but wonder if this was how he felt when he looked at me. If maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way I did. There was something in the way he was looking at me, something that made my insides quiver with anticipation.
"Harley?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "You okay?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The air between us seemed to crackle with an electricity I'd never felt before. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, and it made my own skin tingle in response.
Jon reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek for a moment longer than necessary. My heart skipped a beat at his touch, and I fought the urge to lean into him. His gaze held mine, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else around us.
"I-uh-It's getting late," I stuttered.
Jon's gaze flickered to the clock on the wall for a brief moment before returning to me. "Yeah, you're right."
We both stood up, our movements synchronized despite the awkward silence that had settled between us. As we made our way up the stairs, I couldn't help but feel the weight of his presence beside me. It was like we were connected, our steps in perfect rhythm, our breaths mingling in the air.
When we reached my room, I hesitated before stepping inside, suddenly self-conscious about the mess that was scattered across the floor and my unmade bed. But Jon didn't seem to notice or care. He walked over to the window, staring out into the darkness, his back to me.
I could still make out the outline of his broad shoulders and the curve of his spine, and the way his hair fell across his neck. It was then that I realized that I didn't want him to leave, not yet. There was something about him, about this strange connection between us, that made me feel...
I didn't know. Safe, I guessed. Wanted. Desired.
The air was thick between us, charged with an electricity that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. I couldn't look away from him, couldn't tear my gaze from the way his muscles flexed beneath his skin as he moved, as if he was trying to decide what to do next.
We had been friends for so long, but this moment felt different. It felt like something had shifted between us, like we were on the brink of something new and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
I couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. I couldn't take my eyes off him as he stood by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the moonlit sky. There was something about the way he moved, the way he held himself, that made my heart race and my stomach flip.
As I closed the door behind me, the room plunged into darkness, but it didn't seem to bother him. He remained at the window, gazing out into the night, his profile etched against the soft glow of the streetlights. I felt a sudden urge to step closer, to reach out and touch him, to see if what I was feeling was real.
My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly made my way across the room, my bare feet silent on the carpet. I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin beneath my fingertips. His breath hitched, and for a moment, his muscles tensed beneath my touch.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting mine in the darkness. "What is it?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our ragged breathing.
I couldn't quite find my voice, so I settled for reaching out and tracing a finger down his cheek. His skin was impossibly soft, and the touch sent a shiver through me. He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes as if savoring the sensation.
We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, lost in the warmth of the blanket and the closeness of each other's bodies. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and I found myself mesmerized by the rhythm of it. It was as if we were synchronized, our hearts beating in perfect harmony.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought we were supposed to be going to bed."
I couldn't help but smile in the darkness, the warmth of his breath fanning across my cheek. "I think we might have gotten a little sidetracked."
He chuckled softly, his breath brushing against my neck. "Yeah, I guess we did." His hand moved lower, tracing gentle circles around my hip. "But I don't mind."
I felt my body respond to his touch, my skin growing warm and my heart racing. I turned my head slightly, pressing my cheek against his shoulder. "Me neither," I whispered.
The room was dark, but I could still feel the heat emanating from his body, could still sense the way he moved against me. It was like we were two puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the strength and solidity of his chest, the defined muscles of his arms.
I could feel my eyes fluttering shut, but I didn't want to move.
"We should really lie down now," he said. "You're already half asleep."
"Okay," I mumbled, yawning. "Just a minute."
He chuckled softly, his breath tickling against my neck. "You don't have to be polite. I'm not going anywhere."
I felt a contented warmth spread through my body as we climbed into the bed, my head resting comfortably on his chest. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm beneath my ear, and I could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. The soft sheets were cool against my skin, and I wrapped my arms around him, drawing him closer.
I felt my eyelids grow heavy, my body growing increasingly heavy and relaxed. The exhaustion from the day finally catching up to me. But I didn't want to fall asleep yet. Not quite yet.
I felt his chest rise and fall with each breath beneath my ear, the rhythmic sound lulling me into a deep calm. I could feel the warmth of his body, the solidness of his arms around me, and it was all so comforting, so safe.
His breathing grew deeper, more regular, and I knew that he was asleep. But I didn't want to let go of this moment. I wanted to hold onto it, to savor the closeness and the comfort for as long as I possibly could. So I remained still, my eyes closed, my heartbeat slowing to match his.
The soft sheets caressed my skin, the gentle rise and fall of his chest pressing against my back. His arm was wrapped tightly around me, holding me close, protecting me. It felt like we were two halves of the same whole, perfectly in sync with each other.
I drifted deeper into sleep, my dreams hazy and fleeting. I was aware of the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath. I felt safe, protected. In this moment, there was no place I'd rather be.