Seventy-Six

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Chapter Seventy-Six

☠ Chapter Seventy-Six ☠

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ZAYN'S POV

By the time I woke this morning, it wasn't even morning anymore. In fact, it was already close to four in the afternoon.

All that sleep has me feeling very well rested, as well as Arielle. She woke up not much later than me, no longer looking exhausted like she had yesterday.

We were ready to spend the entire day doing nothing, however Officer Wade wouldn't stop ringing me. Even when I didn't answer my cell phone, he'd just leave a message and then call my home phone. It seemed as though I couldn't avoid my responsibilities.

And so, here I stand, looking through my mother's things. I've been here for two hours already, the pain being nearly unbearable as I slowly rifle through her belongings. Her entire life is in the drawers of this desk, and it has my heart clenching and my chest heavy with the thought.

It's sad to think that after several decades of working here, she has such a small amount of personal belongings. There's barely anything here that I'd even consider taking with me because most of it is simply paperwork—shit that holds zero sentimental value.

Arielle isn't with me. She offered, but I told her that I didn't need her here. I honestly wanted to deal with this entire thing by myself, but now that I'm here and I've realized how difficult this is, I kind of wish she was here.

I do wish she was here.

However, I know she's at home probably spying out the windows. I noticed earlier today when I was going to leave that a police car was patrolling the street. When I'd walked down the driveway and peeked to see what was going on, I noticed nothing other than some caution tape and a whole whack of officers.

I can only assume someone was hit by a car. Maybe an animal or something and so—knowing I can't handle the death of a poor, innocent animal—I didn't look into it further.

But Arielle could stomach it better than myself and she seemed much more determined to figure out what was going on. And so, I'm sure that's what she's doing now.

Knowing her, she probably left the house and played detective to see what she could find out from bystanders and the officers I saw hanging around earlier.

I decide to send her a text just to make sure she's alright.

Zayn: how's everything, babe?

I'm sure she's alright, but I worry sometimes.

I pick up a photo my mother has on the backside of her desk, my heart sinking in my chest as I overlook it. It's a picture captured of Zeinah, myself, and my father as we laugh while playing on the beach.

I remember that day. It was the day when Zeinah got pissed at me and stuffed sand down my swim trunks. It was horrid.

But it was still a memory of better times. Back when I had an actual family. When I had a sister to tease, a father to scold me, and a mother to make me fat with home-cooked meals.

Supersonic | Zayn Malik | AU |Where stories live. Discover now