Serial

Epilogue

It wasn't over. After Agent Walker and his horde of FBI and local law enforcement showed up at the studio, they'd taken Kyle and Levi into custody. Despite the fact that Levi had been stabbed and lost plenty of blood, the blade had managed to miss every major organ. Paramedics insisted he would be fine once they stitched him up. I got the feeling that Kyle had never actually intended to kill his partner. It had just been the fastest way to keep Levi from doing the job he'd wanted to finish himself. And in a messed up way, I think Levi had even respected Kyle for it. He'd taken a stand and tried to fix the problem on his own.

Their relationship was all kinds of weird.

Zhara had to get a few stitches above his eye from where Levi had knocked him out, but other than that, he was okay, too. Of course, he'd complained about scarring his beautiful face and had insisted on seeing a plastic surgeon. However, when he found out his insurance wouldn't cover it, he decided the war wound would give him "street cred."

He'd walked around flaunting the injury for days after that, retelling his acts of bravery, including how he'd tackled and taken down one of the most notorious serial killers of all time. Zhara kept saying that when they eventually filmed the true story behind the Ice-Pick Murders, that we'd be seen as the stars. I didn't exactly want that to be the legacy I left behind, but Zhara was fully ready for his close-up.

Unfortunately, not everyone was as lucky as Zhara and I had been. Scarlett's death hit everyone at RBC especially hard. Not only because she'd been so young and had been killed in such a horrible way, but because she was one of our own. The other dancers hadn't taken the news well. Most of them had been like me; we had tunnel vision when it came to dance, and the idea that something like this could actually happen to us or someone we knew, was outside our range of thinking. Suddenly I realized I wasn't the only one who'd led a sheltered life. It seemed to be a part of the world we lived in.

Only, for me, things had changed. I had changed.

Scarlett's parents chose to have her buried at a cemetery in town, because they insisted she would've wanted her soul to remain near the studio that had brought her so much joy and purpose. Given what Preston had told me though, I wondered if it was just one more way for her parents to keep their daughter at an arm's length. It made me sad to think that even in death, she hadn't been able to make them proud.

On the day of the service, everyone at RBC showed up to say goodbye. The church was bright and airy, and sun rays shot down from the windows near the roof. Everything was decorated in light pink at the request of Scarlett's parents, as it had been their daughter's favorite color. Since I'd had a chance to see the inside of her apartment, I knew this to be true. It was also the color that was most often associated with dance, so it seemed appropriate enough. Pictures of Scarlett had been blown up to poster-size and were displayed near the casket at the front of the room. They showed a smiling and stunning Scarlett at various ages, dancing, twirling, leaping. Doing the thing she'd loved most in this world.

At one point it dawned on me that this might be what my own funeral looked like one day. And from the faces of the other dancers, I wondered if they weren't thinking the same thing.

The service was as beautiful as a funeral could possibly be. Dancers lined up to say nice things about Scarlett, recalling stories that were either funny or endearing or showcased who she'd been. Preston was the last to speak and what he'd said was perfect. It was the only time I felt like I might not be able to make it through without crying. I saw how much he was hurting and I so badly wanted to go to him. Hold his hand. Let him know how sorry I was...for everything.

But I couldn't.

I sat in the back of the church next to Zhara, trying my best to keep a low-profile, but completely aware of the fact that everyone knew I'd had a part in Scarlett's death. It hadn't taken long for the rumors to spread around the company. Too many people had witnessed me going into her apartment that day, and what I'd said to Preston afterward. They'd heard me describe everything in gory detail.