"Have you decided what you want to study yet, Miss Latham? You've been here a year and still haven't declared a major," the dean of the University of California, San Diego stared down his nose at me before adjusting his glasses.
"No sir, I'm afraid I still don't know," I said dully.
What was the point of looking to the future when it didn't have Cindy in it? I had no idea what I wanted to do. I had only taken generals up to this point but I had run out of classes to take.
"You know there aren't any more general education courses left for you to take," the dean continued. "If you don't decide in the next few weeks you won't have any classes to register for next semester. Your grades are excellent and we want you to continue succeeding here."
"I understand, sir. I'll choose something." I grabbed my bag and strode out the door.
Hot tears filled my eyes. What was the point of going to college anyway? This wasn't part of the plan. Cindy was going to win American Ninja Warrior so we could live off the winnings and I was going to go to college to support us after the money ran out. Why was I even here?
I needed sugar so I headed across campus to the nearest Starbucks. I dug in my bag for my wallet while in line so when I heard the horribly familiar voice my head snapped up.
"Hi, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get you today?"
We both stared at each other a moment in shock. What was Liam Harrison doing here? "You!" I exclaimed furiously.
"Hi to you too," he said dryly. "What do you want?"
"I want my sister back, you monster," I hissed before turning on my heel and marching out of there. No way would I eat anything he'd touched.
How dare he? How dare he get to keep living his life when my sister didn't get to live hers? He was free to roam the streets, have a job, grow older, and possibly attack other girls.
I wouldn't stand for it. I couldn't. With my vision tinted red, it was a miracle I made it back to my dorm. I had to do something. But murder? What if I got caught?
Well, whispered a little voice in my head. He got caught and he still got away with it. Make the evidence circumstantial and there's no way they could nail you. What was I thinking? Murder? The very act that took my whole world from me? No. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I had to stop thinking like this.
Every day I tortured myself by walking by the Starbucks. I never went inside but I saw him through the windows. Smiling. Serving coffee. Flirting with the university girls. My blood boiled at the sight. He was getting away with murder. He was living his life and getting away with murder.
I couldn't stand it; I had to know the truth. If he really hadn't killed Cindy and had been acquitted fairly, I could leave him alone. But until then…
It was a cold, rainy day—unusual for San Diego—when I made my move. My hair was coiled on top of my head and hidden under a beanie. I was wearing gloves and a scarf around my mouth and nose. My shoes were several sizes too large and stuffed with socks. No one could recognize me this way—just in case this little meeting went sour.
A long knife in a plastic cover was hidden up my coat sleeve to protect myself. Just protection, nothing more…
I knew what time he got off his shift, waiting at a fast food joint across the street just before he left so I wouldn't be seen canvassing the place. He started walking home in the dark. I followed, waiting to make my move until the coast was completely clear.
"Hey Liam," I said casually from my spot in the alley. Somehow, I knew he'd investigate rather than run. I was right.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"The same thing I wanted before," I said as I removed my scarf from my face. "My sister back."
He smirked. "You again. You've got real nerve, you know that? And here I thought you were nothing but Cindy's shadow. You have her guts."
"How dare you talk about her," I said in a low, threatening voice. "How dare you say her name after what you did."
"According to a jury of my peers, I didn't do anything. You've got nothing on me, sweetheart. Have a nice night." He gave me a smug look before sticking his hands in his pockets and starting to walk away.
"Wait!" I cried desperately. I hadn't gotten the truth out of him. "You can't be tried twice for the same crime. Please, just tell me. I need to know. Why did you do it?"
He turned back and looked at me, curious, before grinning wickedly. "I was tired of her ignoring me. She can't ignore me anymore. And neither, it seems, can you."
He turned to leave but now that I knew…every horrible thing I'd felt since Cindy's death came rushing back to me at once. I was going to explode if I didn't do something. So I acted. Springing forward, I grabbed him from the behind and held my knife to his throat, slowly leading him back into the alleyway.
"One sound and you're dead," I growled.
Surprise and a tinge of fear flashed in his creepy eyes. Not so smug now that you're power's gone, huh loser? I pushed him to the ground and sat on him so he couldn't move before pulling a rope out of my pocket and tying his arms and legs together.
I glanced behind me. No one was out in this weather, as predicted. Sunny Californians didn't know what to do when it rained.
"So," I asked venomously. "How does it feel being the one scared for your life this time?"
"Please," he whispered. "Please, Lori…"
A quick, angry slash left a bloody mark on his cheek. "My sister called me that. You don't get to. Speak again and it'll be worse."
He nodded, terror in his eyes. A sick surge of satisfaction rose in me. He's feeling what Cindy felt. He's getting a taste of his own medicine. A fitting punishment. But now that I had him I couldn't let him go and do anything to another girl. I couldn't avenge Cindy in a courtroom but I could do it here.
I took off my too-large shoe and stuffed one of the balled up socks in his mouth. My voice was eerily calm when I spoke. "You killed my sister. Now I'm gonna kill you."
He started squirming but what could he do? I was on top of him, he was tied up, and I was the one with the knife this time. I wanted him to die the same way she did and feel that same pain.
Animalistic fury and strength surged through me—the same strength I'd used every time I'd punched a wall or broken something since losing Cindy—and I stabbed him. He made a small gurgling noise but I kept going. Again and again I stabbed him for the life she'd lost. For the life I'd lost. Tears ran down my face into my scarf, which muffled my cries of vengeance.
Finally, it was done. He was gone. He would never hurt anyone again.
I untied him, taking back the rope and the sock. I even stole his wallet to make it look like a mugging. I put my materials in a plastic baggie in my purse and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Getting rid of the evidence was easy enough; I went to a beach bonfire the next night and burned everything but the knife, which was returned to the school kitchens after a thorough bleaching. Watching everything go up in smoke, I knew what I had to do. I couldn't help Cindy, but I could help other kids like her. I could prevent this from happening again.
"Dr. Hansen," I declared boldly in my next academic meeting, primly folding my hands in my lap. "I've decided on a major."