One of Those Faces (88)

I tugged at the hem of my borrowed plaid pajama pants. I nodded.





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO


Once Danny left, I stumbled back under the covers, propping my phone up on the pillow beside me and scrolling through my messages with Iann. The last one was from three days ago.

Iann (10:21 a.m.): Can we talk?

Maybe Iann wasn’t the one who’d messed up. But I had. With Wilder. Why? I squeezed my eyes shut.

Because you hate yourself.

The thought of seeing Iann’s face now was both exciting and nerve wracking. When he’d come to my apartment before, I had still been in the cloud of delusion that he was the one who’d screwed up. But it was me, and I felt it in my core, deep behind my belly button.

It’s always you.

I glanced out the window at the snow as it picked up again. It was soft this time, nothing like the slanted downpour of a few days before.

My phone buzzed, and I rolled my head across the pillow. Wilder was calling.

My finger hovered over the screen before I accepted the call. I was still so embarrassed from the last time we’d spoken. “Hello?”

“Harper . . .” His voice was solemn.

I sat up. Something was off.

He sighed. “Where are you?”

I said nothing.

“A call went out this morning about a possible overdose,” he said.

My body tensed before I could really understand where he was going.

“It’s your friend.”

Something sharp burrowed in my stomach.

“They’re still trying to notify her family, but you need to know.”

“Where is she?” I jumped to my feet, my eyes wildly searching around the room for my coat.

“She’s deceased.”

Words froze on my tongue, unformed. “What?” I finally managed.

“Your friend Erin . . . her body was found this morning.”

The room twisted around me. “I don’t understand. Are you sure?” I placed my hand on the bed to steady myself.

“Yes.”

I swallowed but couldn’t feel my throat. “How could this happen? I thought you said she was in rehab?” My voice was growing louder, shakier.

“She was . . .” He paused. “I don’t know the details.”

“Where was she?”

“Harper—”

“Where?” I demanded.

“They found her outside of a club downtown.”

My lips started quaking. Downtown. “You said she was in Waukegan,” my voice trembled.

“I know. I don’t have any answers right now.” His tone was so much gentler than usual.

But it only made me angry. “I have to see her.”

“You can’t,” he said quickly. “Her parents don’t even know yet. I’m not supposed to be telling you any of this.”

My vision completely blurred with tears. They spilled over and fell when I blinked.

“Are you still there?” he asked.

I sniffed. More tears came, seeping into the blanket and making the blue deeper with each drop. I let the phone fall and pushed to end the call.

I couldn’t recall how the rest of the day passed. The next thing I remembered was Danny’s voice. I couldn’t understand what he said. Or asked.

I couldn’t make out his face in the dark, but the warmth of his arms enveloped me.

There were no words for the longest time. He slid the empty bottle of gin away from me across the floor and brought his body closer to mine.

I could barely keep my eyes open—they were so heavy. I had so much to say, but my lips were anchored together.

“Did you take anything?”

I could understand him now even though his voice was quiet. I shook my head, barely able to control the movement before my head fell back to his shoulder.

He held me closer.

“Danny . . .” I choked, and my voice died.

“I know,” he said after I fell silent.





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE


The heat on my skin woke me. I blinked into the daylight streaming through the window. Danny’s arm was draped across my torso, his wrist bent against the blanket. I rolled over on the bed, and he stirred awake.

He was still wearing his starched white button-up shirt from work, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He blinked and removed his arm, pushing the hair from his eyes.

My head pounded in time with my pulse. I stared at him through my swollen eyes.

He noticed and angled his body to face me. “Are you okay?”

No. “You said you know,” I said, my dry mouth smacking. “Does that mean it’s true?”

He frowned. There was something dark in his eyes.

“How?” I sat up. “How can you be sure?”

He leaned forward on his forearm. “Harper,” he said softly.

“Tell me.”

“I was sent there when the news broke,” he said slowly. “I saw her.”

I looked down at my hands. So that was it. She was gone. I thought about all the petty arguments. All the stealing from her. The times I’d hated her for how she treated me. There was nothing I could ever do to take back the last time I saw her. If I hadn’t quit that day, maybe she could’ve held on a little longer. If I hadn’t been so angry about the thought of her and Danny together.