the restaurant by the hostess. She’s attractive if not a little young, probably early twenties, with a petite frame and lithe figure. Her strawberry-blonde hair is set in waves and accentuates the copper color of her dress. She looks like she belongs on his arm.
Though Garrin doesn’t look particularly interested in her as he walks ahead of her. Typical arrogant asshole. Which is why jealousy shouldn’t still stab me in the chest.
“Oh God,” I groan.
“What’s wrong?” She whips her head around to follow my line of sight.
“No, don’t look,” I whisper yell.
“Garrin Stone? I thought you guys were friends in high school.”
“Yeah so did I. But apparently our budding friendship did not translate into adulthood, because he’s been nothing but an asshole to me since I returned.” I down a healthy gulp of my wine.
“Well, he does have a reputation for being a prick. In the Stone family, all the apple trees are bad, including their surrounding friends.”
I chuckle. “Is that so?”
I wonder what happened after high school. It wasn’t like he was a saint in high school—far from it—but he wasn’t the cruel and calculating man he is today. He pranked and challenged authority, but never in a malicious way that I ever saw.
“Totally. I don’t run in the same circle as those guys anymore—by my own design, by the way—but even so I’ve heard stories about Garrin. Apparently, he’s not to be messed with.”
Great.
I chance a glance over Everly’s shoulder and find him seated on the other side of the restaurant, thankfully with his back to our table.
“I’m just going to try and keep my distance as much as I can.” My libido does a slow whine at my decision.
“Probably for the best,” she agrees.
I cut through my steak with my knife and place a piece in my mouth, chewing as my eyes continue to stray over Everly’s shoulder.
“I love the hair, by the way. What made you decide to go platinum blonde?” I ask once I’ve swallowed.
A veil of sadness falls over her expression. “Truth?”
I nod.
“I got tired of seeing my sister staring back at me in the mirror every day. My parents did too.”
I set my cutlery down on either side of my plate. Guilt weighs me down like a vessel filling with water. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened. I wanted to reach out, but I was such a mess myself. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
Everly’s twin sister was murdered on the night of our senior prom. I had already left town by then and didn’t have it all together. I’ve felt guilty about not returning for years but could never get up the nerve to call and offer condolences. As more and more years went by, it felt like a bigger and bigger hurdle to leap over until it was insurmountable and easier to just let it be.
“We’re just all doing our best, and you had your own stuff to deal with. I understand.” A sad smile tilts the corners of her lips down.
“Is it something you don’t like to talk about?”
She ponders her answer for a second before responding. “It depends who I’m talking to. Back when it first happened, there were all kinds of people who tried to befriend me just to get the inside track on the gossip. But when it’s with people who genuinely cared about her, I don’t mind.”
“They still haven’t arrested anyone all these years later?”
Poor Nova. I didn’t know her nearly as well as I knew Everly, mostly because she dated Garrin’s friend Lincoln and I didn’t hang in that circle ever.
“The police never even had any suspects, according to them.” The anger in her voice says she’s not over it. Not that I blame her.
“That’s unbelievable. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you and your parents not to have closure.” I press my lips together, not sure what else to say.
“The not knowing is almost worse than the fact that she’s gone. Back when it first happened, I always used to wonder what her last moments were like. Was she scared? Did she cry out for help or beg for her life? Did she think of me and my parents, or was she in a panicked hysteria? I’ll never get the answers to those questions. But I want the answer to the question of who killed her.” Her eyes fall to her plate and don’t come back up for a second or two.
“I’m sorry. I don’t even know