Of Smoke and Dust 🖋

Chapter One: the photograph, the empty chair, and the darkness of the closet

CHAPTER ONE

Present

June 1st 2021

1:01 PM

Leonie sits on a tire swing in the middle of a park Maia knows well.

She's not facing the people watching her, so she has to glance over her shoulder to flash her signature smile. Her jeans are torn. Her hair is mussed and just barely escaping her ponytail.

Her expression clearly states that she's having the time of her life.

There are words, too. Maia can hear them clear as day. "I'm so sorry", "We'll miss you, Leonie" and "You were an amazing friend" are just a few of them. But Leonie doesn't appear to understand, because she just keeps smiling and laughing.

Her laughter is so joyful.

There are too many words for some of them not to be lies, but Leonie accepts everything all the same. Maia's face is blank when she shares, "I'll never forget you, Leonie." Then she takes it back, because the sentence wasn't for Leonie, anyway, but for the others. The other people come to say that they're so very, very sorry.

Not sorry enough. Not sorry enough to bring her back, to save her-

They don't need Maia's sadness. Leonie wouldn't want it, either. It's false. All of it is false.

I will never forget you, Maia had typed. I will never forget.

A promise.

A mangled, mutilated, half-drowned promise.

A wish, a hope. A naive, innocent smile.

They were fools.

"Kitty." Whispers Maia to Leonie. Leonie doesn't respond.

After all, pictures rarely do.

Under Leonie's image are hundreds of comments, all detailing how much Leonie meant to them. Maia wonders if any of them really knew Leonie as well as they claim now. She knows for sure that Juleen Caylin didn't, and yet Jules's message - It's never going to be the same without you, Leonie - makes out like the two were close friends.

Yes, Jules, thinks Maia bitterly, the thought heavy and poisonous. Never going to be the same.

"Maia?"

Maia's head jerks up, her phone tumbling to her soft yellow bedspread. When she sees that it's only her mother in the doorway, she turns away.

"Maia, lunch is ready." Her mother's voice is soft, but the normalcy of the sentence grates on Maia's ears. She picks up the phone again and crosses her legs. Types 'Leonie Quinn' into the search bar of the Facebook page. Smiles when she sees yet another photo of her best friend pop up, posted by 'Helen Quinn', Leonie's mom.

"Having so much fun this vacation!!!" is the text beneath it. The photo depicts Leonie and her brother, Evan, splashing in the waves at a beach.

"Maia?"

Slowly, unwillingly, Maia drags her eyes from Leonie's face and scoots so she faces her mother. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry." This time, Maia's voice is hard, decisive. "Go away."

"Maia-"

"GO."

Her mother leaves. Leonie doesn't.

"Having fun?" Maia murmurs to the picture. "Really, truly?"

There is no reply, but Maia is sure that Leonie, if she could, would have said "Yes."