They all raced each other to the bakery, and when they arrived, there were numerous ambulances, squad cars, and news vans.
Just as they got there, Ethan spotted Mrs. Heifenmeir's limp body being toted away with one of the ambulance's stretchers.
"Mrs. Heifenmeir!" he shouted, rushing over to her stretcher that was being lugged away on its squeaky wheels by two paramedics. As Mrs. Heifenmeir was placed inside the ambulance, the paramedics hooked her up on a heart monitor, and when they confirmed what they had already suspected, they turned to Karen, who was right there by their sides and shook their heads.
Karen collapsed on the floor right there, and the tears that had already been streaming down her face were now accompanied by loud sobs.
Her mascara ran down her face, giving her the impression of a raccoon, and her hair fell down from its usually high and tight bun. Her lipstick was still, miraculously, immaculate, the pristine red unmarred by the outside world.
Ethan felt as if a piece of his life had just been ripped away from him, like there was no more hope left in the world. Like they had just lost their grandmother. He felt empty, like his heart was just ripped out of his chest. How could this happen? How could he survive in a world without Mrs. Heifenmeir?
"Tweed..." Ethan whispered to his friend as he shook his head, refusing to look at Mrs. Heifenmeir having a white sheet placed over her head, or the fallen form of Karen sobbing her heart out, or even Mara, who was holding her hand against her chest in shock and horror. He, instead, was looking at the ground. Tweed, beside him, stared at her limp body without any emotions showing on his face.
Mrs. Heifenmeir was gone. The bakery was gone.
It felt like hours passed as they stared on in shock and disbelief. In front of them, Karen insisted that the paramedics carry her to the hospital anyway. Refusing her request, they rolled her out of the ambulance, and they called the coroner.
When the commotion died out, the news reporters got their stories, and the crowd of onlookers dwindled, Karen lifted her head and spotted the four kids, still frozen in shock. She stumbled when she tried to get up, but she found her footing on the pavement.
"What are you kids doing here?" Karen finally asked them once she had gathered herself together and had ambled over to them.
Ethan felt hollow, and he didn't hear her question as he made his way over to the entrance of the bakery, his hand extending to the boarded-up door. How had everything fallen apart in a matter of hours?
His gaze dropped from the door, and his eyes narrowed as he spotted something peculiar. He knelt down beside the door of the bakery and picked up an almond, narrowing his eyes and glancing back up at Tweed, who had joined him.
Karen was still talking to Oliver and Mara.
"Isn't Mrs. Heifenmeir allergic to almonds?" Ethan asked, his eyes still filled with tears. Tweed glanced around before kneeling with Ethan in front of the lone almond.
"E... that's just an almond. Someone could have dropped some while they were passing by and eating trail mix or something," he muttered, his eyes transfixed to Ethan's bereaved posture. He was crouched over like Golem and held the almond as if it was a diamond.
Ethan shook his head, refusing this explanation. "I think Red killed her."
Tweed glanced up with shock stricken into his features. "You can't be serious, Ethan. It was just an almond from someone's trail mix," he said, but Ethan refused to look at his friend. Mrs. Heifenmeir was fine yesterday. She couldn't have just... died, all of a sudden.
After all, Red had a good reason to want Mrs. Heifenmeir gone. With her gone, Sol Bakery was no longer able to operate, and there would be no competition left in town. He would be able to upsell everyone as much as he would like to and have his revenge on his family.
"Mrs. Heifenmeir was doing fine and dandy yesterday, and it makes no sense that she... I mean, that-" Ethan choked out, rising to his feet with the almond still in his grasp. Tweed sighed and swatted the brown nut out of his hand.
"This is ridiculous, Ethan-"
"No!" he cried out and shoved Tweed away as he reached over to grab his arm. "He was planning this!" Ethan shouted, clenching his fists. Ethan's mind was still registering the shock of seeing the flashing bright lights of the ambulance, the paramedics rushing around the scene, and the sheet over the rolling stretcher.
He didn't know how to handle this, this... grief.
"Ethan..." Tweed trailed off, looking toward his friend, who was beginning to gain the same look Tweed once had in his gaze years ago, back when he ran with Cartier's boys.
Without another word, Ethan pushed off, carrying himself down the street with a mad idea in his mind. Tweed almost trailed after him, shouting his name, but he knew it wasn't going to be any use. Ethan was turning into who he used to be: Jesús.
***
Tweed had always been thought of as a troublemaker, a nuisance, and in general, a pest to teachers and students alike. It wasn't until his first year of high school that he began to explore the dark side of himself.
Cartier was the first one out of the group to befriend him. Tweed, who went by his real name then, Jesús, didn't immediately take a liking to him. Tweed had never really had a friend that was as talkative and social as himself, but after a business proposition that Cartier offered him, he began molding into their friend group.
Cartier wasn't a scrawny fella. He was lean, as he played a ton of baseball when he was younger, but he was still not intimidating enough that Tweed thought that he would win in a scrap.
"Hey, man, I think I've seen you in my class," he originally greeted Tweed as he walked to his locker to change out his books.
"Oh yeah, we have English class together," Tweed muttered as he opened his locker and threw his notebooks in, grabbing his algebra textbook and the notebooks for his next two classes. He tucked all of them in his bag with his laptop.
"Well, you're pretty smart, and I need a tutor apparently," he said, and Tweed sighed. There was always a catch when one of the popular kids began talking to someone who was boisterous, but lived in their own solitude.
"What's in it for me?" Tweed asked, scrunching his nose up as he watched a boy down the hall fall over a pair of shoes laying on the ground from god-knows-where. He assumed it was from a locker-room feud. The athletes at Ridgecrest competed and teased each other ruthlessly.
"Well, I have something that might help your social standing. Hang out with me and my boys," he ordered rather than proposed. Tweed's head shifted to the side as he contemplated Cartier's words.
"Do you even know my name?" Tweed asked the boy, whose serious and resolved face intimidated most. For some reason, Tweed wasn't as scared as he would have been a few months ago.
"Of course. Baby Jesus," he responded, and Tweed's eyebrows knitted together.
"That isn't my name," Tweed uttered, his face still contorted in confusion. Cartier gave him a knowing smile and clapped his back.
"Your name is Jesús. Thought I'd give you a fitting nickname if you're gonna huddle with us. After all, you'll be our moral compass, right, BJ?" A nickname. Tweed already had a nickname. Maybe this arrangement would work out after all.
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AHH! I finally revealed why Twara was so awkward around each other and were avoiding each other after that screaming match at Bjornie's! What did you all think of the ship??? Also, what about Ethan's freakout? All of your questions to be answered soon, so stick around!