17 | In Cold Vengeance

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February 1st, 2013
Friday
7:00 p.m.

Dear Janet,
Today I caught Ethan and his friends doing drugs in his room. It's been that way for over a month now. Often it's a cigarette. Sometimes alcohol. And recently cocaine. I filmed it and emailed it to Amara's parents. I've been sending them all the evidence that I find. I can't believe everything's just falling into my lap. Perhaps the weirdest thing that happened is when Mr. Eddard Price approached me today.

He told me he had to tell me something important so we went to a more quiet place to chat. He said on the last day you visited him you said that under no circumstances was I to be involved with Ethan and his pals. He had sensed that you were suffering from depression and had suicidal tendencies

However, I'm highly suspicious considering he said you were fine in the days leading up it. What are the odds that it was just misplaced information? What are the chances someone can forget something so significant about a person's behavior?

I don't know, maybe I'm reading too much into it. I'll get to the bottom of this one way or another.

I love you,
Jeremy

***

I wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs. The sizzle of oil reaches me from a couple feet away. Turning to my side, I notice Aiden's absence from the other side of the bed while the door is flung open.

I sigh and climb out of bed, smoothen my clothes and hair before following the scent to the kitchen.

Aiden is making breakfast, wearing the same white tee and olive green pants from last night. His dusty blond hair is slightly ruffled and he sings a tune as he flips the pan. My footsteps alert him and he turns his head, smirking at me.

"Morning rookie, how'd you sleep?" He says and I glare at him.

"What did I tell you yesterday?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and tilting my head to the side.

He turns around and places the eggs and bacon on a plate. "Aw come on, I'm just messing with you. Here, I made breakfast."

I sigh and pull up a chair, sitting across from him as we both dig into our food.

"Did you change the dressing?" I ask, pointing at his wounded side.

He nods, twirling the fork in his hand. "Thankfully, it didn't bleed as much during the night."

I breathe out in relief. "You better get it checked out at the hospital. We can't risk any infections."

"I."

"What?" I look up at him in confusion.

"I can't risk any infections. What do you mean by we?" He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lip rising in a smug smirk once again.

I purse my lips, throwing him a 'Seriously?' look as I resume eating.

Once we clean up our dishes after breakfast, I pop into the bathroom and put on my dress from last night. I only hope to encounter no one on the way back home because the moment they see the condition of this gown, they'd probably call the cops on me or for me.

Emerging from the bathroom, I walk into the bedroom to find Aiden. He's making the bed as I walk in. "Well, I better get going," I inform him.

"Right," he says, his gaze trailing down my clothes. "Hang on," he says then rummages through his closet and comes back with a leather jacket. "You can borrow this."

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