Chapter Seventy

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^ she is art, she is beauty, she is queen ^

"Misted, that's what it is. Some kind of smoke; a fog. It sweeps across our vision, smothering the pathway, until we can no longer find what we were once looking for."
—I made something
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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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I stared at the map, long and hard, and soon believed that my mind was playing tricks on me.

I sighed in frustration, "I can't see anything new!" I called out to Jameson, who was trying to fix my window that decided to spontaneously come loose in the middle of the night. I woke up with a chill and a moth the size of a bat as a new pet.

Our dorm door opened and I frowned; we weren't expecting an visitors. There were a few gruff word exchanges, and then our guest made their way into Jameson's room, where I stood a metre away from the wall, pouring my eyes out onto a map.

"Where's our next holiday?" She asked, obviously trying to make a joke. I gave her a deadpanned stare and she clamped her mouth shut.

"What are you doing here, Alexi?" I asked, not interested in small talk.

She shed her jacket and draped it over Jameson's desk chair, making herself very much at home. "I'm here for our little map-meetings." She said, waving her hand around to gesture to the investigation board which had become an investigation room.

"That's what we're calling them now? And who invited you anyway?" I asked.

Lexi raised her eyebrows, "Okay, okay, I know I forgot to RSVP but that was harsh."

Uninterested in her banter, I turned my attention back to the map.

"If I say that it wasn't me, will you forgive me?" Jameson asked, popping his head in the room, hinting to the fact that he invited Lexi to what I thought would be a private meeting.

I didn't reply, and instead threw a glare at him.

Lexi sucked in a breath, "Run, right now, whilst you still have time." She told Jameson, who chuckled in response. Then he was gone again.

"So," Alexi announced, leaning against the wall, "how's my best friend after things got hot and spicy on Halloween?" She asked.

That incident was actually a few days ago now, in fact, three days ago, since it was the evening of the fourth of November. Tomorrow was fireworks night, though Jameson currently did not want me anywhere near anything that has to be lit by a fire. Which is the whole point of fireworks night. In fact, I've pretty much been home bound—or rather dorm-room bound—ever since the accident. I haven't even been on my phone. My only source of communication has been Jameson.

Sounds rather eventful, right? Well, the only thing that was really interesting that we have discussed over the last few days has been our conversation about the flavour in the chicken that he got us for dinner. The discussion got pretty heated.

I dismissed all of this, not wanting to talk to her about what happened, nor about the dark truths that I had admitted to Jameson after. Instead, I raised an eyebrow at her use of 'best friend'.

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