MC and Maximus glared at Eva, who delicately placed her father's things in a cardboard box-a task that MC was supposed to do but got sidetracked from. The air was thick in the room, heavy with grief unspoken, residual resentment.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Maximus whispered, his voice barely audible. "I mean, it's smart to ask Eva, but with your history." He trailed off, leaving the weight of past events hanging between them.
MC's jaw tightened. "You want an answer or a couple of addresses?" he shot back, sharper than he intended.
"Addresses," Maximus conceded, his eyes darting nervously between MC and Eva. "But can you really do it? After everything that's happened?"
MC couldn't answer for certain, the weight of his past mistakes weighing upon him, but he knew he had no other choice; he had to get those girls' addresses, and maybe they knew Emma's password-a key missing piece in their amateur investigation. "I guess we'll find out," he said, trying to sound braver than he was.
Well, as Brooks was about to take some boxes to the garage, MC seized his opportunity. The abrupt disappearance of Eva's husband created an immediate void that MC knew would require urgent intervention if anything was going to be resolved. He moved purposefully and quickly towards Eva, his footsteps a glide through treacle.
He stopped mere inches from Eva, the unease rolling off her in waves. He swallowed hard, forcing down the churning in his stomach. "Ms. Whitlock," he began, voice steady, though he was anything but. "I have a question for you."
Eva looked up; the confusion was swallowed by a sharp scrutiny that sent an itch down MC's back. The warmth of those windows to the soul had vanished; cold, menacing frost stared him out. "What is it, Michael?" she asked softly, almost icy, formally cordial.
"Do you know.," he muttered, then mustered the nerve. This had been an amazingly weighty question to pop out. ". Emma's friends' addresses?"
Eva visibly stiffened, either at the mention of Emma or the request for addresses; MC couldn't tell. She straightened up, her posture rigid and defensive as she stared him down. MC fought the urge to step back, feeling like a suspect under interrogation.
"Why do you need them?" Her voice had an edge to it, a mix of suspicion and barely contained anger.
MC's mind was racing to come up with a plausible explanation. "I need to visit them," he said, the half-truth bitter in his mouth. "But I don't know where they live." He couldn't tell him the truth-that he was investigating Emma's death, ripping open wounds that had barely begun to heal.
An eyebrow arched over one kohl-framed eye as Eva's eyes narrowed into MC's face. The tension in the room was as taut as a rubber band stretched to breaking point. But before she could say a word, MC's mom swept up, oblivious to the charged atmosphere.
"Eva, do you need help with those boxes?" she asked innocently, her cheerful tone jarring on the underlying tension.
"Oh, okay," Eva said, her manner softening a degree, though MC could still see the wariness in her eyes. "You could start with the boxes on my right."
Turning back to MC, her voice was cool once more. "There's a phonebook with Emma's friends' parents in it. You should find some addresses there." With that, she returned to her task, stiff and deliberate in her movements as she tried to ignore the boy who had brought her family so much pain.
MC jogged back to Maximus, the feeling of relief washing over him. He silently thanked his mother for her timely intervention, knowing full well that had she not been present, Eva would have refused to help. The weight of the past hung heavy between them all, a constant reminder of the tragedy that had torn their lives apart.
"Did you get it?" Maximus asked excitedly, his eyes wide with anticipation.
MC nodded, the hint of a smile tugging his lips at their corners. "Yeah, pal, all we now need is go to these people's places and just politely ask them the password." Just like the ease with which this had come out of his mouth, simplicity camouflaged what they had gotten into.
…
Jake stood at the window, watching as MC and Maximus left the house. Something dug at his gut, a voice in the back of his mind telling him not to ignore what he was seeing. He didn't know why he was wasting time on them-on him-but something in the way they were acting just seemed wrong, almost suspicious.
He watched as the two brothers walked down the driveway, their heads together over some sort of paper. Jake squinted to try and make out what was on the paper but couldn't quite from the distance. What in the world were they doing? He'd already had bad feelings from them earlier when he'd seen them hang around the stairs, whispering softly with one another about who-knew-what. Then, they'd approached his mom—his mom—and now they were leaving in a rush, clearly on some kind of mission.
Jake's jaw clenched tight as he leaned against the frame of the window. He didn't trust MC. He hadn't since the day the man left Fallen Falls without even a goodbye. That betrayal had been enough to snap any bond they may have once shared. Now, watching him skulk around with Maximus in town, Jake's suspicions only grew.
Jake reached into his pocket, his fingers clenching around his phone as he considered what to do next. His eyes never once left MC as he followed his every movement like a predator watching prey. Something wasn't right, and Jake wasn't about to let it slide.
He dialed a number, pressing the phone to his ear as it rang. His voice was low but firm when someone picked up on the other end. "Hey," he said, glancing back out the window to make sure MC and Maximus were still in sight. "Can you do me a favor?"
The other guy was talking back, but Jake hardly heard him. He continued to keep his eyes on MC and Maximus as they vanished down the street. Whatever it was, Jake was going to find out, and if necessary, put a stop to it before any more harm could be done.
…
MC and Maximus stood in front of the quaint suburban house they believed belonged to Lisa, the closest of Emma's three friends. The January air was crisp, and their breath formed small clouds as they hesitated on the sidewalk. The weight of their mission hung heavy between them, a stark contrast to the peaceful neighborhood around them.
His mind whirred on with a plan in the futile hope of something cropping up. Asking for her phone password point-blank even sounded stupid inside his head. Emma's friends had already taken a disliking toward him because he did not take the time to know how Emma felt, but now it was him who had unknowingly led her into her death. That they'd hate him far more than the Whitlocks gave him a colder shiver than the chill in the winter air.
He turned to Maximus, who was waiting expectantly, his young face a mix of anticipation and concern. MC struggled to articulate his difficulty with social interactions, a skill that had deteriorated since Emma's death.
"Maximus," he called out hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "What should I do?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Maximus replied, wide-eyed with uncertainty. "I didn't even know these girls existed until I read Emma's diary. This is just a bit outside my league."
They just stood there, paralyzed by indecision, trying to think of a course of action that would not lead to hostility. MC's mind flashed back to all the crime shows he had watched, wishing he could have the smooth talking attributes of a TV detective1.
A shrill, accusing girl's voice suddenly cut into their deliberation. "What are you doing here?"
MC and Maximus whirled to see three girls standing a few yards away, their faces twisted with anger now that they recognized MC. There was so much hostility in their eyes that he suddenly remembered the hurt he had brought about on the day Emma died.
"How dare you show your face after you killed Emma?!" Rebecca shouted, her fists clenched at her sides as she approached him slowly. "You've got some nerve, boy!"
Lisa and Eliana flanked Rebecca, their postures tense and ready for confrontation. The air crackled with tension, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.
"MC!" Maximus whispered urgently, tugging at his brother's sleeve. "What did you do?!"
"Pissed off a bunch of girls," MC answered, his eyes darting between the three advancing figures. He wondered if he should run, his fight-or-flight instinct kicking into high gear.
Lisa was the first to attack, and her body was a fluid, rehearsed motion as she kicked toward MC's face. He ducked, heart racing, into Rebecca's punch incoming. Maximus acted on instinct, yanking his brother clear just in time; the punch whistled past MC's ear.
Trying to put the pieces together, a searing pain ruptured across MC's back. Turning, he was met with Eliana-her eyes were ablaze, her fist still raised after delivering the punch. Before he could utter a word, Lisa and Rebecca plunged him onto the floor, jolting the air from his lungs.
"Wait, guys!" Maximus called out, his voice breaking with desperation. "We ain't come here to cause no trouble. We just want help!"
The girls paused in their assault for the first time, taking in Maximus. Anger turned to confusion as they took in the young boy's earnest face.
"What do you want with us?" Eliana asked, her voice cold as she pointedly ignored MC. "I don't recall us being friends."
"We need Emma's phone password," Maximus gushed out. "We—"
Lisa cut in, her voice high with anger. "How dare you—"
"Can we not fight anymore?" MC growled irritably, raising himself off the ground. "We are trying to find out who killed Emma."
His words hung heavy in the air, laden with implication. The girls exchanged a look, a silent understanding crossing between them. They released MC slowly, stepping back but not lowering their guard.
"What do you mean, 'who killed Emma'?" Rebecca asked, her voice an intriguing mix of suspicion and curiosity.
MC took a deep breath, realizing this was their chance to explain. "We think there's more to Emma's disappearance than what everyone believes. We're trying to investigate, to find out the truth."
The girls' expressions shifted again, anger giving way to a complex mix of emotions: grief, hope, and lingering suspicion. After a moment of tense silence, Lisa spoke.
"Come inside," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk."
Wordlessly, they ushered MC and Maximus into Lisa's house. Nobody said anything as they walked into the living room, which was filled with tension. Family photos lined the walls; among them was Emma's smiling face, frozen in time. Lisa's parents were nowhere to be seen, but neither MC nor Maximus dared to ask why.
As they settled into an uncomfortable circle in the living room, MC realized this might be the key to unlocking the mystery of Emma's death. He took a deep breath, ready to share what they knew, and hoped Emma's friends would be willing to help, despite their history.
"Explain," Eliana said, her voice low and peremptory. The word seemed to hang suspended in the air, weighted by decades of unasked questions and grief buried beneath anger.
MC took a deep breath, his hands shaking a little as he readied himself to bare the crazy truth he'd been fighting. He launched into his explanation, words tumbling out in a rush. He told the whole story, nothing left unsaid, including the part about Emma's ghost seeking justice. As he spoke about the supernatural encounters, the room seemed to grow colder, as if Emma's presence had somehow manifest from the naming of her name.
"I know it sounds crazy," MC said, his voice cracking. "But Emma's ghost has been haunting me, demanding that I solve her murder. She's not just missing - she's dead, and she wants justice."
By this time, MC didn't care if they thought he was certifiable. His only concern was to solve the case before going to Fallen Falls at 4:30 PM. The ticking clock added a degree of urgency to the words tumbling out of him faster and faster, in rapid succession.
Eliana, Lisa, and Rebecca sat in stunned silence as MC awkwardly rambled about his need to find Emma's murderer and his limited time. The realization that Emma was dead, not just missing, hit them like a physical blow. Each girl seemed to shrink into herself, grappling with this new, horrifying reality. Adding to the surreal nature of it all was that there was a ghost out for justice. The world had been turned upside down in mere minutes.
"What is it that you want again?" Lisa asked, her voice barely above a whisper as if to speak too loudly would break the fragile reality they now found themselves in. "Something about a password, said the blonde one."
"Yeah." Maximus reached into MC's pocket to retrieve the phone, but before he could, Rebecca stood up so abruptly her chair toppled backward. In three quick strides, she crossed the room and slapped MC hard across the face; the crack of skin on skin echoed through the stunned silence.
The words seemed to reverberate within the confines of the room as everyone just stared at Rebecca in utter astonishment. A crackling atmosphere was felt between them, loaded with grief, anger, and disbelief.
"I kinda had that coming," MC muttered, rubbing his cheek. A wry, mirthless smile twisted his lips. "It would appear my luck has sucked since yesterday." His mind replayed the events of the last 24 hours-the ghostly apparitions, mad investigating, and now this showdown with Emma's friends.
Rebecca took a deep breath, her eyes ablaze in a mix of anger and pain. "You read Emma's diary," she spat, each word laced with accusation. "That means you know how much she loved you."
The realization hit them all at once: MC did indeed now know how Emma had felt, something that had been kept hidden for years and was now brought to light in the most tragic of ways.
"Yeah, I do," he replied, his tone soft, full of regret. "And I regret not seeing it sooner. But again, that would have been really weird." The inadequacy of the words hung in the air, real testament to how complicated emotions were surrounding Emma's unrequited love and her untimely death.
"MC, what's going on?" Maximus asked, confusion laced in his voice. He looked from his brother to the three girls, trying to put together this complex web of relationships and accusations. "Why is everyone accusing you of killing Emma? Wait, did you.?"
"No!" MC shouted, frustration boiling over. The accusation above all from his brother was the straw that broke the camel's back. "It's just that Emma followed me and went missing. I never laid a hand on her. But people said it was my fault she went missing." He let out a heavy sigh, the years of guilt and suspicion weighing heavily upon him, his shoulders slumped. "How ironic."
Eliana's eyes dropped to the phone in MC's hands, and suddenly her face brightened in realization. "It was your birthday," she said, her voice soft with sadness and fondness mixed in one tone. "The password was your birthday."
Maximus now turned to MC, tapping in 0815 to unlock the phone. "Huh, it really was," he said, handing him the device. "I'm not surprised, given how much she actually wrote of her feelings."
MC struggled to keep a tight expression of indifference, but inside, really, he was in stormy weather. "Me neither, after all the bullshit I went through," he grumbled, his fingers hesitant over the screen as if they too were unsure of entering Emma's digital world.
"Wait," Eliana interjected, her voice serious. The one word sliced through the tension like a knife. "Before you run off and start all that business with the mission, I think we need to finish telling you what happened at that sleepover."
"I knew that story wasn't over," Maximus burst out, intrigued now. He hunched forward, ready to hear more about the night that had changed it all.
…
She found herself in class, the place so quiet-contrary to the familiar clatter of that room. There were no people at all in that normally busy room. The silence just felt as thick as fog. Emma rose awkwardly from her desk, scraping it loudly on the linoleum floor. A creeping sense of unease pricked along the back of her neck like a cold, eerie finger. Where was everybody?
On the surface, the school seemed to be in order-the posters for the upcoming dance were still stuck on the walls, bright colors so out of place against the squeezing of the atmosphere. Everything was in its place, just. off. It called to her-some unearthly feeling whispered within her mind that this was not her school, that she did not come here day in and day out. The air felt thick, almost electric, as if the very building held its breath.
She exited the classroom, her footsteps echoing in the empty halls as she searched for any sign of life. The silence was deafening, pressing against her eardrums like a physical force. Emma's growing dismay manifested as a knot in her stomach, tightening with each empty room she passed.
As she continued walking, rationalization kicked in. Maybe it was a holiday she had forgotten about, or perhaps there was an assembly she had missed the memo for. The irritation rose inside of her, swirling with the unease to create this cocktail of confusion of feelings. She could've been home sleeping, curled up in her warm bed, instead of traipsing through this ghost town of a school. The fluorescent lights above hummed, casting static shadows that seemed to dance along the corners of her vision.
Then, behind her, strong hands clutched at her, unyielding. Emma's heart leapt into her throat as she whirled around, her veins surging with adrenaline. She found herself face-to-face with a hooded figure, its features obscured by shadows. Before she could utter a word, a flash from a camera blinded her, the world dissolving into a sea of white.
Emma's eyes snapped open, and reality crashed back in like a tidal wave. She was staring face-to-face with the hooded intruder, mere inches away. The acrid smell of sweat and something darker, more sinister, filled her nostrils. A blood-curdling scream tore from her throat, primal and raw, jolting her friends awake as the figure darted towards the window with inhuman speed.
Lisa, Rebecca, and Eliana struggled to sit up sleepily, still groggily comprehending what was happening. This dark, withdrawing figure-a shadow amidst shadows-became their fixation. Seconds later, they joined Emma, screaming as their voices combined into an orchestra of terror, ripping through the silent night.
The door burst open with a loud bang, Emma's parents charging in like avenging angels. Her father, his face set in grim determination, began scanning the area outside the window, gun held steady in his hands. But the figure had vanished into the night, leaving only the acrid chill and the faint smell of fear. He turned to Emma, now huddled among her friends, their arms wrapped protectively around her quivering form.
"Emma, are you okay?!" her friends kept asking over and over again as their voices rang out in unison-soft, frightened, and afraid. Their faces, pale from the moonlight streaming through the window, showed the same horror reflected in Emma's. It was as if the earth had moved from beneath her feet as Emma shivered with fear.
A nightmare that had plagued her subconscious had finally spilled into reality, and she had the cold, bone-deep certainty that chilled her more than the touch of this intruder: she was a hundred percent certain now that she had a stalker, someone who had invaded not just her home but the sanctity of her dreams. Pressed to the bosom of her girl friends, Emma knew that her world would never be the same, that any free-spirited days of her girlhood were giving way to a darker, more dangerous reality.
…
"Guess we didn't miss much," MC found himself saying; the frustration and the resignation well mixed in his voice. Standing up, he went through Emma's phone, unease growing by the second.
The device was deluged with calls from names he knew-friends, family, teachers-all trying to reach Emma in desperation after she had gone missing. MC's stomach churned as he scrolled down the list, instantly recognizing many of the numbers. These were people who, once upon a time, had been part of his life, too, before Emma disappeared trying to follow him. Through the digital interface, he could feel every ounce of their concern and possibly suspicion.
He ignored the calls and went straight to the messages. They were all variations of the same frantic calls for Emma to answer, to give some indication that she was alive. Amongst all this concern, one set of messages stood out like a jagged rock in calm waters.
Several messages from the unknown number were photo attachments that sent chills down MC's spine. They were shots of Emma going about her daily routine: walking to school, hanging out with friends, even playing in her own backyard, captured without her knowledge. The stalker had been watching her, capturing her movements through the eyes of a predator. Along with these unnerving snapshots were messages oscillating between saccharine compliments and disturbing, possessive statements.
"You're so beautiful when you smile, Emma. I wish you'd smile for me."
"Why are you ignoring me? Don't you know how special you are to me?"
"I saw you with that boy today. You shouldn't be wasting your time with him. He'll never understand you like I do."
MC closed the phone, his mind reeling. Why had Jake never mentioned this? A stalker, someone breaking into their house-it was a huge deal, the kind of thing that should have been shared, especially given what happened to Emma. He longed to confront Jake, to demand answers, but knew that bridge had long since burned. With a heavy sigh, he passed the phone to Emma's friends, who were watching their faces contort in a mixture of horror and grim recognition as they scrolled through the messages.
"Anything else happen?" MC asked, not wanting to know the answer but needing every scrap of information.
"Besides the letters and creepy messages," Rebecca replied, her voice tight with suppressed emotion, "we never saw the guy again. But Emma. she was never the same after that night."
Of course, MC thought bitterly. Nothing ever goes my way. He fought the urge to pull his hair out, instead taking a deep breath and looking at Maximus, who seemed overwhelmed by the gravity of what they were uncovering.
"We need to interrogate that kid in Emma's diary," MC said, feeling options running low like sand in an hourglass. "Who knows? Maybe he's the little creep behind all this."
"Wait, MC," Maximus cut in, concern etched into his furrowed brow. "How do we know he is the stalker? He can just be a normal kid who is caught up with everything as much as we are.
That was true, but time was running out along with leads. MC felt the weight, knowing every minute that dragged by took them farther from the truth. "Well, we don't have any other leads, do we?" he barked, then immediately regretted the tone.
"Yes, but even if he is the stalker," Maximus said, very maturely beyond his years, "that does not by default make him a murderer. We mustn't be so quick to judge."
Maximus had a point, and it was one that made MC's stomach churn. What if they approached the stalker only to find he had nothing to do with Emma's disappearance or murder? What if they'd wasted an entire day chasing the wrong lead, leaving the real culprit free to cover their tracks?
The thought made MC feel physically ill. He really hoped they were on the right path, that this wasn't just another dead end in a case that seemed full of them.
Glancing at his watch, MC saw it was 12:37. Time was slipping away, and they needed to find not only Emma's murderer but also the mysterious "stuff" her ghost had mentioned. Their only leads were Emma's phone and diary, neither of which seemed to be yielding the needed breakthrough. All they really knew was that Emma had liked him-a fact that now felt cruelly ironic, given how little he'd been able to protect her.
"Perhaps we could help," Lisa offered, breaking the strained silence. "We know all about Emma, and perhaps we can help in this case. There may be some details that ring in our memories to lead you to some clues."
"Really?!," Maximus said excitedly, eyes welling up once again with hope. "That'd be a lot of help for us!"
MC just stood there, taken aback by the offer. He had never anticipated that Emma's friends would want to help him, let alone volunteer to do so. In fact, he was shocked they even agreed to talk with him, considering how everyone avoided him like the plague after Emma disappeared. It was foreign yet comforting to have allies, to not be alone in this quest for the truth. It was a nice feeling and maybe a huge help to unravel this mystery.
"What do you suggest we do?" MC asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "We don't know how Emma died or where, so we can't get clues from that. Emma's ghost told me to get a guy's stuff, whatever that means. And we know she had a stalker. But beyond that, there's not much to work with."
Eliana frowned at him, her eyes narrowing. "What do you think we were doing when our lovely Em went missing? Sitting around twiddling our thumbs?"
The three girls stared at him, their faces scrunched up in annoyance, taking great offense at the implication that they hadn't been actively trying to solve the mystery of their friend's disappearance. MC swallowed hard; he had struck a nerve, it seemed. "What were you doing?" he ventured a little more cautiously, hoping their answer might provide the break they were so desperately seeking.