The Brightest Star

Chapter 8

Eight ✬
Mirabelle left Will on the couch in the family room as went upstairs to find her laptop.
He gazed around the room, taking in the surroundings and learning what he could about the Samuels. The decorations were contemporary, with flower vases set here and there with different types of tulips, all sprouting gorgeous flowers and showcasing magnificent colors. The cat wandered over to where Will was sitting and jumped onto the couch to greet him. Will stroked the small kitten and reached for the collar, trying to find out it's name.
"Hi, little guy!"
He began, scratching the cat behind it's ears. He found the pendant and read, Magnus. "Hello, Magnus!"
His voice was drenched in delight, filling the house with his growling as he played with the kitten. Mirabelle met him in the room, a blue-cased macbook air in hand, and a huge grin on her face. She plopped down beside him, startling the cat and she exchanged. Mirabelle handed him the laptop and she took Magnus into her lap. Will opened the laptop and was greeted by the lockscreen-- a galaxy. He nudged Mirabelle and she quickly typed in the password. Her fingers moved swiftly on the keyboard, but Will was still able to she what she wrote. It was her birthday. March Twenty-Second.
Mirabelle handed the device back to him, and he opened Netflix in google chrome, the red home page asking him to log in popped up. The pattering of keys sounded throughout the house as Will entered the information and searched for Doctor Who. He looked to Mirabelle, whose mysterious eyes were full of wonder and curiosity.
After clicking the first episode, Rose, Will couldn’t couldn't stop glancing back at Mirabelle, to catch her reaction to certain things. She seemed mystified and eager to know what was next to come. Mirabelle looked up at Will, smiling. "That was awesome! I loved it!"
"Yeah?" He asked, smiling back at her. "Yeah."

~•~✩~•~

Mirabelle, counting tonight, had seen Will four times, yet not once had she tried to deduce him. This caught Mirabelle's attention. She assumed that since she had never had this much contact with another human being, save her parents, she was more interested in getting to know him as a person instead of thinking her way through his life story.
~•~✩~•~

The silence in the room was nerve wracking and eerie, making Will uncomfortably left with his thoughts. He couldn't stop his mind from drifting to the events from today. He thought of the way Missy looked, rotting on the floor, wounds no corpse should have. Thinking out the eerie silence that filled her house only brought back the image of her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't clear his mind, to wipe the visual away, as a windshield wiper sweeps away water, racing to catch the drops before they fall.
He couldn't stand it. Though he desired to keep Missy in his mind, he didn't want to see her that way any longer. Will threw himself off the couch and strolled across the room to the table where his phone had been charging, and texted Mirabelle.

Bored.
I need a book to read
preferably a series. Any ideas?
-WS

They happened regularly-- his Sherlock moods. Tonight was one of them. He reached down and grabbed his sapphire laptop from the low coffee table and queued up The Great Game. He figured that if he and Mirabelle were going to solve Missy's murder, he was going to have to learn from Sherlock Holmes, to see how to deduce what happened to her.

The Great Game, having many crimes caused by Moriarty, was the ideal episode to learn the art of deduction from. Will took notes on his phone, writing down details to pay attention to and what to look for on the body. It also helped that last year he'd taken an anatomy class, so that the next day, he and Mirabelle could visit Missy again.
Will's phone buzzed in the pocket of his worn jeans two hours after he'd sent the message. Mirabelle texted back, apologizing for the lateness of the text.

I think you'd like The Mortal Instruments. It's a great series! There's six books.
/what's with the -WS/
-MS

He smiled to himself, and replied

What's it about? The title sounds cool!
/it's a sherlock thing. Sherlock things are cool/
-WS

She didn't reply for five minutes, three of which Will decided to make himself a cup of coffee. When she did reply, he chuckled to himself at the length of the message.

So it's an action/ mythological series about a race called the Shadowhunters who are born from human and angel blood mixed together and there are werewolves and vampires and faeries and the Shadowhunters kill demons that live in the world. The protagonist is named Clary Fray and she is the main character in all of the books and its about her journey to become a Shadowhunter. The guy character, Jace is really confusing but you'll get it. And it's just so amazing and if you like it there is also a prequel series about Tessa Gray and William Herondale and James Carstairs. His only reply was: "Sounds good!"
Then he closed out of the messages, tapped into the books app and searched The Mortal Instruments.
The results showed all six books, the first named The City of Bones. He bought the book and began to read.
It wasn't until 1:15 that morning when Will went to sleep. He had been reading The City of Bones since he bought it. He stopped on page 540.

After school Will received a text from DI Wilson who had insisted that he call him Oliver.

Marisa Walter's body has been moved to the morgue at Mount Sinai Hospital.

He searched the address in Google maps before stopping by Mirabelle's house. She answered the door wearing a mint green sweatshirt and light grey leggings. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she smiled when she saw Will at the door.
"Any news?" she asked, walking out to the car beside him. He nodded gravely.
"She's been moved to the morgue in Mount Sinai Hospital."
"Ah, I see..."
She looked up at him, making sure he was okay. Mirabelle traced his features in her mind-- the way his jaw stood out against his neck, how his cheekbones pierced his face, making it sharper, more easily captivated. If she wanted to, Mirabelle could draw him, to trace his countenance onto paper, with rapid flicks and smooth languid movements-- well she could... if she was actually a talented artist. She always hated the way her art turned out; there was always something wrong, as if, from memory, one feature always blurred or changed itself, making the entire work inaccurate. But she also knew that art wasn't supposed to be perfect. That's what made it art.
She realized that, while in her reverie, she had been staring at Will the entire time. When Mirabelle shook herself back, she gave an apologetic smile to him and walked ahead to get into the car. She opened the door and got in, and Will followed after her. The hospital wasn't far from where Mirabelle lived. Will pulled into the lot and parked the car, all the while Mirabelle stared in awe at the structure before them. The building stood, towering over the shining cars in the lot. Its bricks were worn, graying and revealing weak spots. The gloomy aura of the exterior was fitting, given the circumstance she and Will were there by. Mirabelle couldn't begin to imagine what Will was going through. Sure, she'd read a few books in which the protagonist had gone through tragedy, but this was different. In the fictional life, she didn't have to think about how she could help, how she could comfort the character. This was reality, and she felt utterly helpless in the entire situation. She glanced over at Will who was watching her, pain in his eyes. A wave of sympathy washed over her as she watched him.
"Are you ready?"
He nodded at the inquiry and flashed her a halfhearted smile before exiting the vehicle.