“Thanks,” I say dryly. I really would have liked to finish that cigarette now. “Do you think she knew? Or at least had a feeling? What with her changing the will and all...” “ In hindsight – yes. She seemed very pre-occupied that day. I asked her if she was sick, but she said that she wasn't. I asked her if she was having any sort of trouble and she said that she wasn't.” “ She wasn't? Did she say who was?” “ I didn't ask. It's not my place to push things she doesn't want to talk about and I certainly didn't expect that she was in that big of trouble. I didn't know that she, or anyone else for that matter, was going to die. It seemed like stress at the time. Nerves. Sleep-deprivation. Too much caffeine...” “ And you don't have any sort of idea who she could've been talking about?” “ None whatsoever.” I open my bag and pull out one of the dozens of pictures of the mysterious girl. “Do you recognize this girl?” He puts his spectacles on and takes the picture to look at it. “No.. God, lose a little sleep and I’m an impatient prick... “Hey, so--”“Do I have enough time to grab a shower first?” she erupted before zipping to the washroom. She closed the door behind her. I almost had a moment of peace, then realized she had reopened the door so it was noticeably ajar.“You have as much time as you need,” I gruffed, and pulled the door all the way closed.I grabbed my phone and collapsed into my armchair. Three more texts from Sam. No more pictures. I hadn’t deleted those first ones yet. I took a deep breath. These girls were too young, and I couldn’t involve myself without hurting at least two. I doubted all three wouldn’t end up hurt. I doubted I wouldn’t end up hurt.“Sorry about your blah night. Coffee at 3. Play Grounds.” I texted and sank back into my chair. My phone immediately started buzzing.I ignored the “Oh my god! Hey!!!” and every text that came after her second text: “I don’t drink coffee .” Why would she type ‘sad face’ when there were perfectly good.
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