The Time It Takes To Fall

To Live a Lie

USA, 2019 A.D.

The gray sweatshirt sat on the table like an ancient relic displayed in a museum. Cinder stared at the hoodie, unsure of what to do with it— was that the sort of thing one burned or threw out when they broke up? Could one even consider what had happened a break-up? Cinder didn't know the protocol for this situation.

She'd cried for hours the night before; it was the kind of crying that disappeared for a while only to return stronger than before. Cinder had held onto the sweatshirt, abandoning all her dignity as she allowed herself to mourn the boy she'd fallen in love with.

Throughout the duration of her sorrows Cinder had called out for him and cursed him into oblivion and wept for him. She'd felt more emotions that night than at any other point in her life— it had been even more painful than her visit to the hospital in Seattle. At least then she'd had Kai to comfort her; now he was gone forever.

Cinder grabbed the sweatshirt and brought it up to her face. She allowed herself a moment of smelling its now-musty scent from her tears and the rain that Kai had worn into her home. But below the smell of forgotten water she could make out his scent of laundry detergent and that weird sense she'd only ever been able to describe as old.

She let out a sigh and hugged the worn material against her chest. She walked back toward her room and deposited the clothing in her small closet, hiding it behind a stack of her own sweatshirts— she would deal with it later.

A knock sounded at Cinder's door in the same instant, startling her out of the closet with a small hiss. She stumbled from her room and walked to the front door. She knew who it would be despite them not having arrangements to talk— Iko always knew when something was amiss. It was almost as if she could sense the spike in Cinder's emotions.

Cinder opened the door and smiled at her best friend. She looked stylish as always, especially in comparison to Cinder's grubby sweats and Nirvana t-shirt. Her blue braided hair was pulled up into an intricate knot, and her dress was a complementary shade of navy. But somehow the organized look was thrown to shambles by the look on Iko's face—a look that made her appear almost crazed.

"What?" Cinder asked, glancing down at herself as if there was something wrong with her physical appearance. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Did you do it?" Iko walked into Cinder's apartment, brushing past her and walking straight into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Cinder mumbled, rubbing a hand against the back of her neck.

Iko did a one-eighty, giving Cinder that down-the-nose look of questioning. Her perfect brow was raised with one eyebrow quirked slightly higher than the other. Cinder suddenly had the violent urge to punch her best friend.

"You asked him if he killed Dr. Erland?"

"Yes, Iko," Cinder huffed, storming into the kitchen. She stalked to the sink and filled up her kettle with water. She didn't want tea— she just wanted something to do.

Iko squinted at her, as if she was unsure of what was going on. Cinder wanted to scream.

"Why are you being like this?" Iko asked, taking a seat at Cinder's kitchen table. She leaned her elbows upon the surface and placed her cheek in her palm, allowing her head to tilt as she watched Cinder rage-make tea.

Cinder "accidentally" slammed the kettle on the stove— a wretched screech filled the air with the contact. Iko sneered; Cinder clenched her teeth.

She thought that she wouldn't be so mad at her friend— she had, after all, saved Cinder from dating a guy who believed himself to be over four hundred years old. All night she'd thought over what could have happened— what kind of tricks Kai could have had up his sleeve.