I felt each breath tick out of me, quick and steady, then getting quicker and quicker, like a bomb about to explode, my hands shaking as I called Nico … but it went straight to voicemail. So I checked her socials, and when there was no trace of her, I kicked off the blanket and sat up.
“I need to go to the hospital.”
Michelle did the same, her eyes wide and her mouth open, but before she could say anything, my mother shook her head. “They won’t let you near her, Mara. You’re not Nico’s next of kin.”
“Yeah, but—” I stopped to suck in a breath. “If you come with me and we explain—”
Michelle cut me off with a brittle chuckle. “Explain what?”
But before she could say it—before she could remind me that Nico wasn’t my girlfriend anymore, if she ever was—James said, “You won’t even be able to see her, Mara. She’s probably having loads of tests and stuff.”
“Now isn’t a good time,” my father agreed. “Her mother’s probably worried sick. Give them some space.”
“Send Nico a text,” Nicole suggested with a gentle smile. “Maybe you can go see her tomorrow?”
So I did, then stared at the screen while Michelle and our parents resumed batting questions back and forth. I was aware of them saying Nico’s name over and over, but it was as though the shock of it had swallowed me whole, tugging me down to some deep, unreachable place where all I could hear was the slow throb of my heartbeat in my ears. I made an excuse about needing water to escape the ceaseless assault of questions as they exchanged theories about what could have happened to Nico.
The kitchen was immaculate now, but still smelled of the jiaozi we’d just had for dinner and the smell was so familiar— so comforting—that I closed my eyes and inhaled. Dark, salty soy, sweet Chinese leeks and something else. Something unique to Michelle’s house. And I remember wishing that I could go back to a few hours ago, when we were sitting around the kitchen table, folding the wrappers, when all I had to worry about was making sure that mine were better than Michelle’s. But when I opened my eyes again, I was still there.
Still in the kitchen.
Still surrounded by questions.
When I headed back to the living room, I heard Nicole lower her voice. “What if it wasn’t an accident?”
I was stunned, but James just sighed and said, “Well, Nico always was a restless soul, wasn’t she?”
As soon as he said it, I remembered what Michelle had said when she’d read me the article in The Argus.
About life not being for everyone.
And the shock of it sent me running out of the house.
Michelle must have heard the front door slam, because then she was there, right behind me as I ran next door to my house and tried to guide my key into the lock. I could hear her talking as I persisted—this breathless babble as she cursed her father and told me to ignore him—but I just wanted to get inside.
Where it was safe.
Where I’d be safe.
When I finally succeeded, Michelle followed me in, still trying to console me as I ran up the stairs. I was aware of her at my heels, and I just needed to get to the bathroom because it was the only room in our house that had a lock. But when I finally got to the door, Michelle reached for my elbow.
“Mara, stop!”
I did, but I didn’t look at her.
“Dad shouldn’t have said that. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
I could feel the words filling my throat until there was no room for anything else.
“Michelle, do you think she tried to—”
But she wouldn’t let me finish the sentence.
“Don’t, Mara.” When I peered at her from under my eyelashes, she was shaking her head. “Don’t.”
But it was all I could think about.
What if Nico isn’t an asshole, she’s just desperately unhappy and I didn’t notice?
“Mara, stop,” Michelle told me as I tried to retrace my steps.
What did she say the last time I saw her?
She’d had that argument with her mother, hadn’t she?
But then, she was always arguing with her mother.
Mum’s not talking to me again, she’d tell me with a dramatic sigh.
Or she’d roll her eyes when her phone rang. I’m not getting that. It’s probably Mum.
I felt Michelle’s hand on my shoulder then, and with a sharp shake, I was back.
“Mara, don’t.”
But I did.
“Michelle, what if she—”
“She didn’t.” She smothered the thought with such certainty I believed her.
I really wanted to believe her.
“If Nico wanted to do that, there are much easier ways of doing it.” She squeezed my shoulder and waited for me to lift my chin again. “She just got wasted and fell off the pier. There’s nothing more to it than that, Mara.”
But I shook my head. “Nico doesn’t drink.”
Michelle tilted her head at me. “Are you sure?”
Doubt needled at me then because, no, I wasn’t.
Nico only let me know what she wanted me to know and maybe she didn’t want me to know that.
But even in the quagmire of my concern, I knew it was the most likely—and comforting—explanation. Nico wasn’t the first person to get drunk and fall off the pier and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“You didn’t tell them,” Michelle said, tugging me back.
“Tell who what?” I frowned.
“Sussex Police. You didn’t tell them that Nico was supposed to meet you last night.”
“So?”
“It might help,” Michelle said gently, nodding at the bathroom.
We locked the door and sat side by side on the edge of the bath as I called Sussex Police again. When they answered, I told them that I’d just spoken to someone and they didn’t hesitate, just asked my name.
“Police Constable Olivia Parsons,” a voice said a few seconds later.
“Yes. Hi. Hey. Hello,” I blurted out as I sat on the edge of the bath. “This is Mara. Mara Malakar.”
She immediately softened. “Hey, Mara. You OK?”
“Yes. Yeah. No. I mean…”
“Just take a breath, sweetheart,” she told me when I stopped to press my hand to my forehead.
I did as I was told and, to my surprise, it actually helped.
“Did you forget to tell me something, Mara?”
“Yes,” I admitted, my chin shivering. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was so stunned when I saw Nico’s photo on the news and it wasn’t even me who called you, it was Michelle—”
“Who’s Michelle?”
“My best friend. I was too shocked, so she was the one who dialed your number.”
“OK.”
“And my parents were there and they know about Nico, but they don’t know everything, you know?”
“OK.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry, but I forgot to tell you that I was supposed to meet Nico last night.”
There was a tick or two of silence. Then Olivia said, “You were?”
“Yeah.”
I was going to tell her how Nico had said that I was the last person she wanted to see last year and the first person she wanted to see this year, but I didn’t know if Nico would want me to tell the police that.
“Where did you arrange to meet her, Mara?”
“At Queens Park.”
“At what time?”
“Eleven thirty.”
“Do you know how she was getting there?”
“The twenty-seven from the Windmill, then she was supposed to walk from the Old Steine.”
“And what happened?”
“She sent me message at ten fifty-eight to say that she was on the bus.”
“OK.”
“She told me to meet her in Queens Park in half an hour, but she didn’t show up.”
“Was that the last time you heard from her? That message at ten fifty-eight?”
My face flushed at the memory. “She messaged me again at twelve thirty-nine.”
“What did she say?”
I know I shouldn’t have lied, but I couldn’t say it out loud. “She told me she wasn’t coming.”
“Is it like her to arrange to meet you and not show up?”
I hesitated and it was suddenly so quiet that I could hear someone else’s voice through the phone.
“You still there, Mara?”
I nodded.
“Are you nodding, Mara?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Which question are you nodding at?”
“Both.”
“Is that why things are so complicated?”
“Nico’s very”—I stopped to suck in a breath, aware of Michelle watching me—“complicated.”
“OK. Well, this is very helpful, Mara. Thank you.”
I could feel her transitioning back to Police Constable Olivia Parsons, so I stopped her before she could launch into her We’re going to look into this, and if we need to follow up, we’ll be in touch script. “Olivia?”
“Yes, Mara?”
It was a second or two before I could say it. “Is she OK?”
“She’s safe, I promise.”
And that’s all I needed to know.