You're the Reason - J. Nathan Page 0,20

wasn’t even sure I liked her.

I went to my closet and pulled out an old pair of jeans I never wore. I rolled my jar inside the jeans and buried them in the back of my closet. If she planned to snoop again, I wasn’t making it easy on her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I walked toward my dorm after my Thursday classes, really hoping Chantel wasn't there. We’d managed not to cross paths since yesterday when she’d gone through my jar, and I hoped to keep it that way. I knew she was leaving for the weekend for her cousin’s wedding, and I really hoped she’d left early.

The cloudy sky sent a cool breeze whipping through the path I took back to the dorm. I hugged my arms around myself, thankful I’d worn my pink hoodie. I’d forgotten how inconsistent September weather could be.

I stepped off the path onto the sidewalk across the street from my dorm. An older woman, standing there staring up at the top floor, grabbed my attention.

I stopped, wondering what she was doing. Was she waiting for someone to come down to let her into the building?

When minutes passed and she still hadn’t moved, I approached her. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Her eyes moved to mine. That’s when I noticed she’d been crying.

An ominous shiver rushed up my spine. “Oh, my goodness. Are you all right?”

She shook her head.

My Lifetime movie senses kicked in. “Is there someone I can call for you?”

She shook her head again.

A bouquet of flowers lay beside her feet on the sidewalk. Oh shit.

“Would you like to sit down?” I motioned to the sidewalk and slowly sat down hoping she’d follow my lead.

She carefully lowered herself down beside me.

A heavy silence descended.

Another breeze whipped through sending goosebumps scampering up my legs. Our quiet was interrupted by students passing by, walking around us, and laughing and chatting with friends.

“Did you know my daughter Sydney?”

Though I had a sinking feeling it was Sydney’s mom, my heart wilted as the truth hit me. I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I just transferred here.”

“But you heard what happened?”

I nodded. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine your grief.”

“It’s torture.”

Tears pricked my eyes.

“My husband would be furious if he knew I was here…I just needed…I just needed to see.”

I nodded, understanding her need to seek closure after suffering such a tragic loss.

“She was the light of my life,” she said.

A rogue tear escaped my eye and I quickly wiped it away. I couldn’t imagine the grief she was feeling. I don’t know what came over me, but I slipped my arm through hers.

Instantly, her body relaxed against me, as if she needed someone to comfort her.

We sat there for a long time.

“You’re an angel,” she said, turning to look at me. Her puffy eyes assessed my face. “Sydney would’ve liked you.”

I willed back the flood of tears threatening to fall and smiled. “I’m sure I would’ve liked her, too.”

Tears glazed her eyes as she turned to look back at the top of the building. “My daughter would’ve never hurt herself.”

Unsure what to say, I said nothing. Kids kept secrets from their parents, and no matter how well parents thought they knew their kids, they never knew everything.

“I just can’t believe no one knows anything,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” The sun began to set and the breeze became cooler. She shivered, her light sun dress not enough to keep her warm. She unlocked her arm from mine. “I should get going. I just…I just needed this.”

I pulled open my backpack and grabbed a pen and notebook. “I’m gonna give you my number.” I scribbled down my name and number on a sheet of paper and tore it out of my notebook. “You call if you ever find yourself back here. I’ll sit with you for as long as you need me to.”

She took the paper from my hand and looked at it. “Sophia,” she mused. “A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.” She closed her hand over mine. “I think Sydney wanted us to meet.”

“You think so?”

She nodded.

“Sophia?” Chantel called from the dorm entrance across the street.

My eyes shot to the door where Chantel stood, anger brewing in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Sydney’s mother stood.

I followed her up. “This is Sydney’s mom.”

“We’ve met,” Sydney’s mother said through tight lips.

“How are you?” Chantel asked her.

“How do you think I am?” Sydney’s mother’s voice grew louder. “My daughter’s dead