SarahI was still in my pajamas when I got to the hotel. Pink cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt that said "Art is Not Dead" across the front. Not exactly the outfit I'd choose for a midnight crisis intervention, but Alex had sounded so broken on the phone that I'd just grabbed my keys and left.The elevator ride up felt endless. Lorenzo had wanted to come with me, but I'd told him to stay put. Whatever was happening with Maya, she didn't need a stranger witnessing it.I knocked on the door, and Alex opened it immediately. He looked terrible—hair messy, eyes red, still wearing the same clothes from when he'd shown up at my apartment hours ago."Couldn't you have changed into something?" he asked, looking at my pajamas."Did you hear yourself on the phone?" I pushed past him into the room. "Where is she?"The hotel room was nice—expensive, obviously—but Maya wasn't in the living area. Alex gestured toward the bedroom."I brought her inside about an hour ago," he said.I found Maya
AlexMaya's body was shaking against mine, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps that didn't sound like they were getting any air into her lungs. We were still sitting on the cold balcony tiles, her curled against my chest, and I could feel how badly she was trembling."Hey, hey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Maya, look at me."She lifted her head, and her face was streaked with tears. Her eyes looked wild, unfocused, like she couldn't quite see me even though I was right there."I can't—" she started, then gasped. "I can't breathe.""Yes, you can. You're breathing right now." I moved so I could look at her directly. "Maya, look at me. Just focus on me."She tried, but her eyes kept darting around, and her breathing was getting worse, not better."Okay, we're going to breathe together," I said. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Ready?"I took a deep breath, exaggerating the motion so she could see it. "In."Maya tried to copy me, but the breath came out a
TroyDear Troy,When had Fiona written a note to me? Before all this, we weren't close. Not in the slightest. We'd barely known each other existed before that night at the club. So this had to have been written here, in my apartment. That night.The thought struck me.Had Fiona overdosed while I was sleeping? While I was supposed to be keeping watch over her? I tried to picture it. At some point during the night, she must have woken up. Maybe looked over at me passed out in the chair. Maybe watched my face for a while, then found some paper and started writing.A note that started with "Dear Troy."I laughed. Actually laughed out loud, which probably made me look completely insane."Troy?" Olivia was staring at me, concern written all over her face. "What does it say?""Fiona wrote her final words to me," I said, still half-laughing. "Not to her parents. Not to Maya. To me."The irony was too much. This girl I'd barely known had chosen me to receive her last thoughts. Me, the guy who'
TroyI woke up to the smell of her perfume.It hit me before I even opened my eyes. Something floral and cloying. For a split second, in that hazy space between sleep and consciousness, I thought she was still here. Still alive, still sprawled across my couch with that attitude of hers.Then reality crashed back.I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the ceiling of my living room. The same ceiling I'd been staring at when the paramedics had carried her body out yesterday. When the police had asked their questions. When the crime scene tape had finally come down.I was lying on the couch. The same fucking couch where Fiona had died."Jesus Christ," I muttered, pushing myself upright. My neck was stiff, and there was a throw pillow stuck to my cheek from where I'd been drooling in my sleep. How long had I been out?The last thing I remembered was standing in my bedroom, grabbing clothes to take back to Olivia's place. I'd been staring at the couch, replaying every moment from tha
AlexThe key card beeped and I pushed into the hotel room, already calling her name. "Maya?"Nothing. The room was empty, but not empty—her presence was still there in the rumpled bedsheets, the tea cup on the nightstand, her shoes kicked off by the bathroom door. Wind moved through the space, and I followed it to the source.The balcony doors were wide open.I found her leaning against the railing, completely still. Not moving, not fidgeting, just standing there with her forearms resting on the metal barrier like she'd been carved from stone. The city spread out below us, all glittering lights and distant traffic sounds, but Maya wasn't really looking at any of it. She was looking through it.I stood in the doorway for
AlexThe elevator in Sarah's building was one of those old European ones with the metal cage doors that rattled as it climbed. I'd been trying her phone since we landed, but every call went straight to voicemail. Knowing Sarah, she'd probably turned it off hours ago and was fast asleep.The hallway on her floor was dimly lit, with those motion sensor lights that barely worked. I found her door and knocked, soft at first, then louder when there was no response.Nothing.I knocked again, harder this time. "Sarah?"After what felt like forever, I heard movement inside. Footsteps, then the sound of multiple locks being undone. The door opened just wide enough for Sarah's face to appear, squinting at me like I was some kind of hallucination."What the fuck?" Her voice was thick with sleep, her usually perfect hair sticking up at odd angles. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and looked like she'd been asleep for hours. "Alex?""Yeah, it's me.""What are you—" Sh