It has been a year since Annalise Montgomery lost her fifteen year old sister Lilly in the middle of a sunny day when she was waiting in a parking lot.
Annalise takes the case into her control when the police are empty handed. No leads, no traces, n...
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"Scott and I painted it in third grade." The more I watch Reggie Cohen, the more I understand why Scott has been his best friend for so long.
I can't see one once of cruelty in his head. It reminds of of Blondie. Not once has Reggie been unkind to me since I have known him. Even after putting him through so much, he can't see me badly.
"We were suppose to paint a dragon together for class work, but we have a fight halfway through it because we wanted it to have different features." He's explaining the odd painting above the fireplace after I asked. "That's why it looks the way it is. We roughed each other around. I came home crying that day, not because of the painting, but because it was our first fight and he ignored me. Our mom's forced us to apologise that night, but Scott showed up with a bucket of paint and paper. He wanted us to try again, and we painted one the way I wanted."
My heart swelled at the story and how Reggie was starting at the painting. It's a mess of blues, greens, and greys. It looks like a blob. Hardly a dragon that eight years old's painted.
"It was that day when I realised how nice he was and how he put others first. My mom had kept the original painting and she only found it when I moved out. I almost cried with laughter. I just had to hang it up."
This is what a true friendship looked like. One they're letting me in on, but I don't think nothing would be able to compare to the bond between the blonde boys.
"It's adorable." I can't help but verbalise it. I feel Scott shaking with silent laughter when he also looks up at the painting.
Reggie had ordered dinner, and we're waiting on it to be delivered from a Thai take out. Only when we made ourselves comfortable in his living room was when I had to ask about the artwork.
Scott and I have taken up the sofa. Even though there was plenty of room, he'd sat directly beside me and threw an arm over my shoulders. I'd rested my head on his shoulder again.
"I can't believe she kept it." Blondie says with a smile at the memory. I don't have a single item from my childhood like they do. My parents never kept anything because I never engaged in things like the other kids.
Even if I did, my parents would have tossed it in the trash the moment I turned my back. "It's my favourite thing I own." I can make that assumption just by how Reggie displays it so delicately with a thick black frame around it.
There's a knock at the front door which is just past the living room where the small foyer is. Reggie jumps up first to volunteer to answer the door, he disappears out of the room.
"Mom has your gun, by the way." Scott whispers this to me once his friend is out of ear shot. I felt my stomach kick with an uneasy feeling. I'd shot a man. I don't have my gun anymore. "She was furious at first when she found out it was yours. It could've taken a turn for the worst, but she's handling it rather well considering the constant fight between you two."
