The Devil In Disguise

Echoes of Loss

The car ride was quiet, too quiet. Gianina's mind raced, but the silence pressed down on her like a heavy weight, suffocating her thoughts. She watched the streets of Ashford pass by, everything looking the same yet feeling so different. Houses she'd grown up around, places she'd spent afternoons with friends, now felt eerie. Like they held secrets in their walls. Her town was no longer the safe bubble she'd always known.

Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. She glanced over at him, seeing the tension etched into his face. His jaw was clenched, eyes locked on the road ahead, but he wasn't really seeing it. Neither of them were.

"Do you think they'll find out who did it?" Gianina's voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Marcus didn't answer right away, as if he hadn't heard her. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know, G. I hope so." His words were laced with frustration. "But things like this... They don't just happen. Not here."

Not here. That was what everyone was thinking, wasn't it? Ashford wasn't supposed to be a place where people got murdered. It wasn't supposed to be a place where something as final as death visited like this. Especially not for someone like Destiny.

Gianina swallowed hard, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over. She couldn't break down now. Not with Marcus here. Not with everything feeling so fragile, like if she let herself cry, she might never stop.

They pulled up in front of Mary's house, a small white bungalow tucked away behind a few oak trees. Normally, this was where they'd all meet up for casual hangouts or impromptu study sessions. Now, it felt like walking into a funeral.

Gianina barely registered getting out of the car. Her feet moved on autopilot as she followed Marcus up the pathway to the front door. She didn't even need to knock—Mary was already waiting, standing there with a look that could only be described as haunted.

Mary had always been the strong one, the glue that held their group together when things got tough. But now, she looked as fragile as glass, like one wrong word could shatter her completely. She wrapped her arms around Gianina, holding on like she was the last solid thing in her world.

"I can't believe this," Mary whispered into Gianina's shoulder. "I just can't."

"I know," Gianina murmured back, though she wasn't sure she really did. None of it felt real.

They went inside, where Jamie was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. His usually cheerful demeanor was gone, replaced with something dark and brooding. He cracked a sad smile at Gianina and she returned it. She then looked over at Jordan and Cal. Cal was always the one to make everyone laugh, to lighten the mood, but today there was no trace of that boy. Cal and Jordan were sitting on the floor, leaning against the coffee table, their hands intertwined. Gianina couldn't remember the last time they'd all been this quiet, this still. It was like they were waiting for something—anything—that would make sense of what had happened.

"Has anyone heard anything from the police?" Jamie asked without looking up.

Mary shook her head. "They're not saying much yet. They're still investigating."

"Investigating," Jamie muttered bitterly. "Like that's supposed to make us feel better. Destiny's dead. What else is there to investigate?"

Gianina flinched at his words. Jamie had always been blunt, but there was a rawness to his tone that cut through her. She hadn't even fully processed the reality of it yet. Destiny was dead. How could they just sit here, in Mary's living room, like things hadn't completely fallen apart?

"We have to let them do their job," Marcus said, his voice steady but strained. "They'll figure it out."

Jamie scoffed, pushing himself up from the couch. "What if they don't? What if this is just the beginning?" He paced across the room, running his hands through his hair. "What if there's someone out there, right now, planning to do it again?"