Robin Jenkins and Christina Clark find the dead body of Violet Hayes in their apartment. They strike an investigation of their own and enlist the help of their neighbor, Finn Dallas.
[Full summary inside]
#1 in edgeofyourseat
#6 in murdermystery
#8...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ROBIN HADN'T BEEN ABLE TO CATCH HIS FEATURES PROPERLY when he had started running, the hood doing a decent job shadowing his features.
She had never thought this day would come; when the ghosts of a past that had haunted her would suddenly emerge and fuse with her reality. The distant memories had always felt like an alternate universe to her, so surreal, so out of touch.
His eyes were still the same shade of peaceful blue, his hair shorter than it had been when they were kids. She couldn't believe how grown he was now. She couldn't believe this was the same kid she used to tower over.
It was him.
"Ollie," she called his name out of need. It was him.
He blinked at the sound of his name, at the recognition on her face. Somehow it made him cry harder. They had all speculated she would remember him, but he never knew. He had hoped she would. He even believed it, once, when her eyes lingered on him before he was shadowed by Jeremy's figure. But he never thought it would happen. He never expected he'd see her looking at him like this again.
"I thought I lost you." Robin's voice was nothing but a gentle whisper that Ollie barely heard through the sobs that tore out of his throat.
His arms clung to her just as hard as hers clung to him, his wet cheek pressed on the crook of her neck, fingers digging under the skin of her back. He felt the warmth of her embrace, and it was different from Joe's or Lizzie's or Jeremy's. He had been trying all his life to fill something that had been ripped from him, and there had always been this void, this empty space, one that couldn't be filled and that had always felt cold.
And now he could feel it, a warm kindle glowing his insides like a gentle lullaby.
"I'm sorry." The words tore out of his throat in a desperate plea. "I'm sorry."
Her eyes stung, tears cutting through her skin and dampening her cheeks. She pulled him closer to her, fingers threading through his soft curls, her other hand around him like a tight band, fearing that if she let go of him for a second - he would vanish.
Lizzie took a few steps to stand between them. "You're still bleeding, Robin."
The sound of her name made her heart miss a beat. She snapped her chin up. She could see clearer now. The glass that had blurred all her memories shattered to pieces.
"Let me see your wound," Ollie croaked, pulling only an inch away, eyes looking down to study the cut. He winced, feeling his chest tighten at the sight of the large slit. It spanned several inches long from her inner to her outer thigh and was an inch wide. "Shit," he hissed under his breath.
"It's fine." Robin wiped her eyes, looking down at her thigh. She ground her teeth. It needed stitches.
She had worn a long-sleeved shirt, and she was quick to take it off knowing she wore a tank top underneath. She wrapped the cotton tight around the cut, giving the knots a squeeze and watching the blood soak it. Seeing Ollie had completely thrown her off course, and the blood was now splattering on the tiles, gushing out at a snail's pace without seeming to stop.
