The memory kept playing in my mind over and over on a loop, every time I close my eyes I see him. I don't know who he is, some random non-descript man with dark hair and eyes and unremarkable features. I have no clue who he might be but the memory is clear he's afraid.
He's afraid of me. I see it clear as day as he cowers in the corner of an otherwise empty room. I don't recognize the surroundings either.
I hate that my memories come back in fits and starts, odd buts and ends that I've got to try to piece together with no context. This would be so much easier if I could ask somebody hut the only person who would probably have any answers is Emma and right now talking to her is the last thing I want to do. Mostly because, the only other part of this memory that makes sense is that I can clearly see Emma at my side, she was there the whole time. And I know that doesn't mean anything considering I've known all along that she helps me investigate the leads on my families cases but the man in the memory wasn't some criminal he looked scared out of his mind.
Scared of me, and I'm not okay with that and Emma shouldn't have been either. That feeling in my guy that tells me I shouldn't trust gets stronger every day and the more I uncover of my own memories the more I realize there's more merit to it than just paranoia.
She's definitely picked up on the distance I've put between us these last few weeks, considering the constant calls and texts and 'let's hang out, I haven't seen you in forever' is anything to go by.
I'd ignored the last text, she'd sent it after if had my episode and Dastan came to get me. I was otherwise indisposed so I'd read it and decided to reply later but every time I'd picked up my phone do it this nagging feeling in the back of my mind makes me stop.
I miss her but I also don't feel like I can't trust her. So, I've been spending inordinate amounts of time with Dastan which in itself is a problem. I don't want to get too involved but it seems inevitable especially, when he holds me all night after I've had an episode and takes care of me like I'm something precious. He makes it so hard not to love him.
"Hey," Emma says, shutting the front door behind her. "Where've you been? I've barely seen you all week."
I watch her walk further into my apartment and my thoughts turn uneasy and riotous. I make up an excuse, "I've been swamped with work," it's flimsy at best, it's the excuse I give Haider when I'm avoiding family dinners and lectures on how I'm being irresponsible.
She knows it and so do I, Emma just gives a very slow nod as if she can't believe I'd use that excuse with her.
"So, any new leads?" I ask, attempting to turn the conversation to different topics only ice miscalculated and picked the worst one because after the memory I uncovered in my last episode I'm more curious than ever about the leads Emma always finds me anfld what exactly happens on these investigations we conduct.
"No, sorry, but I'll keep looking." She says it with actual sympathy in her voice, I can tell it's not put on. She genuinely wishes she had a lead to give me which makes me wonder why she wants me chasing down criminals. Haider's of the opinion that I should let it be and not take justice into my own hands due to his concerns for my safety. So, what does Emma get out of me investigating my families attack.
"Great, thanks." I respond after a beat when I realize she's watching me. I inject as much sincerity as I can into my expression hut I can tell almost immediately she doesn't buy it. I'm really awful at this lying stuff.
"Kiera, are you doing okay?" Emma asks after a prolonged moment of silence, in which I shuffle the papers on the desk in front of me, not really knowing what to do or say.
"Yeah, of course," I say, instinctively I feel the need to defend myself and I don't know why. It's not like she's attacking me so why do I feel like she's poking for a weakness. Maybe I am going crazy and seeing things that aren't there. "Why do you ask?"
"You just don't seem yourself recently," she tells me, her face crumpling and her eyes look so sad behind her glasses I'm tempted to cave and spill my guts. The cautious voice in the back of my head stays my hand; wait, watch, it's says. "I don't know, maybe I'm being over-sensitive but it feels like you're avoiding me."
"Avoiding you," the surprise in my tone is manufactured, I recognize it but Emma seems to be oblivious and that's so out of character I take a moment to study her standing at the other end of the desk, hands clasped in front of her, eyes downcast. The picture of insecurity and naivety. But that's not who Emma is, it's never been her. Emma's always been one step ahead of everyone else and she knows more than she's letting on. I just need to figure out how much she knows and how I can play it to my advantage. "Why would I do that?" I ask, keeping my expression blank and open so she can see I'm not hiding anything.
"I don't know, you tell me." She says, and then realizing it sounds very much like an accusation she talks on; "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain black haired boy, would it?"
"Dastan?" I guess, forcing my voice to rise an octave on the end of his name. Just his name brings back images of yesterday and I have to fight the flush that wants to overcome my skin. I think of Haider, and it helps significantly. "What's he got to do with anything?"
"Well, Theo and Connor have been spending all their free time together, and you've been working and Dastan isn't spending time with me but Haider says he's never home anymore,"
"You think he's up to something?" I ask, trying for clueless but somehow it comes out sounding suspicious. Great, now she definitely thinks I have feelings for him or at the very least I'm more invested in his life that I'd like to be, both of which are true but then again she's probably always known judging from the lack of reaction my question gets.
"No, probably not." She gives a weary sigh, turning her back to me. I reach into her bag and grab her cellphone. "Anyway, wanna watch a movie."
I nod, and watch as she head into my living room to pick one. The moment her eyes settle on the screen I pop her phone case open under the desk. Emma might be tech savvy but she's also pretty type A and she likes to keep written passwords on hand. I know she keeps the login credentials to Haider's police servers in her phone case. I don't know how I know hut I guess it's one of those memories that have come back.
I don't really care where the information came from, I'm just grateful I have it because I've got some research to do. It's time to start a real investigation into what the actual hell has been going on in my life for the last three years because I'm tired of always being the last to know what's going on in my own life.