ANATOMY OF A GIRL

part six, ii

Sapphire wasn't sure which scared her more: the idea that she was entirely insane and hallucinating this image of Arlo, or the idea that she was sane and could somehow see him when no one else could.

Arlo told her last night, a few hours after she'd first seen him, that he'd attempted to reach out to Leo and Ayden, but with no results. It seemed she was still the only one that could see him.

It was strange and awful that after two weeks of mourning Arlo's death, he'd returned. Seeing him made her heart glow, of course. Seeing him so whole, when she'd last seen him as a corpse. But it was wrong. It went against nature and the laws of magic. Even in the realm of magic such a thing had never happened. Or it had never been recorded, at least. For fear they may sound crazy, she supposed. That, she understood.

She wasn't entirely sure what to believe anymore. It wasn't possible for Arlo to be there with her. Arlo was dead. He was gone, gone, gone-gone-gone. She felt the word echoing through her head, hitting her inner cranium and bruising the tissues violet.

She remembers an image from her dream, watching his crumbling body. If she dreamt of his corpse every night, why would it stop there?

Yet, though she thought he was just a figment, the Arlo that had sat before her looked real. Felt real. He looked like he had a month ago, before fate cast its spell on him. He wasn't pale or bloody, she couldn't see the blue of his veins beneath the flesh. His eyes weren't bloodshot and his lips weren't a shade of purple.

She knew, with every breath she took, that he was real, and not just a figment. Some part deep within her knew it was Arlo. And that scared her. It scared her more than she cared to admit.

She knew it wasn't some part of her that had created this image of him, and she wasn't delusional. She didn't know how, and at that moment, she had more questions than answers. But it was okay, because if there was one thing Sapphire Gracen was good at, it was finding answers. After all, she wasn't one to let go easily. Like most things, it was a blessing and a curse.

The fear shook her to her core, and she felt her heart lapse and the protective walls she'd built up around it crumble. Fear tore through the cracks, and that aching, bleeding hurt smashed into whatever stood in its way.

Her legs suddenly didn't feel so strong, the bones compressed into something brittle that wouldn't hold her up. She took deeper breaths to try calm herself down.

She liked to imagine what they would be doing today, if it were a normal Saturday. If Arlo hadn't passed. If all was okay.

The boys would come to their room with food they'd stolen from the kitchen, and they'd play loud music and watch cliché movies that the boys always pretended to hate.

She turned to Flair, curled beneath her duvet, only the top of her head visible atop the pillow. Everything was so different now, and Sapphire feared there would be no returning to what they once had. Not without Arlo – the glue that held their group together.

This morning, she'd seen him again – in the forest this time. He told her he was watching the world, that it had gotten more beautiful after his death. That the world glowed and he wished he could have seen it before.

In a moment of bravery, she managed to ask him the questions that had been knocking around the inside of her head for the past few weeks. She held onto the hope that she may yet find the answers. She asked him if he knew who killed him, and how it all happened. It had taken a moment of great bravery, because not only was she nervous that the questions may upset him in some way, but she also held a deep fear of the truth of what happened that night.

It seemed Arlo held the same fear. He didn't know who killed him, and still held only a few blurry memories of what actually happened, but he managed to explain the few images he'd seen.

I'm standing in front of the lake, watching the moonlight hit the water, then there's an image of me on the ground, my head throbbing like I've been hit with something hard. I'm being pulled toward the lake, and the next image is of me beneath the surface. The water above me is pulsing, so I can't see anything. Not the skies or the stars, and not the person holding me under.

It was hard for Sapphire to put in words the sadness that grasped at her chest right then.

He apologized for his lack of answers. Always apologizing.

Arlo asked her if the police had any suspects yet, and Sapphire had felt her stomach clench – once, twice. She wished he didn't have to hear the truth, but she told him anyway. He deserved to know the truth, especially if it was all she had to offer. So she told him about how the police hadn't been looking for suspects because they'd confirmed it was a suicide. That they'd stopped investigating entirely. The case had been closed, and with it, all hope of getting the police's help lost.

He denied it adamantly, as if Sapphire didn't already know it wasn't suicide.

As they walked through the forest, he told her what he could. His theories, any possible explanations as to why he was here at Belreistkov with her. He believed he was here for a reason. That his purpose was to find out who killed him. Sapphire couldn't agree or disagree, because for all the research she'd done, she still found no record of such an event happening. But she understood why he needed to know. He needed closure. She knew the need for answers like she knew broken bones and bruised skin. She knew it couldn't be ignored.

She understood that need, but she also knew they couldn't find the answers they needed on their own. That need was what compelled her call up the others.

Leo and Ayden joined Sapphire in her and Flair's dorm. She didn't say it aloud, but she thought it felt strange to be in one place together without Arlo.

Ayden settled down onto the couch beside her desk, and Leo soon followed. Ayden had dark circles under his eyes, his hair even messier than usual. Leo wore some old t-shirt and sweatpants that had holes along the seams, but he didn't seem to notice.

"What's up?" Ayden asked, zipping and unzipping his jacket.

Sapphire took a breath. There was no taking this back, but she trusted them, and she knew they wanted answers, too. They'd lost their friend, too. "I think we've got to find out who killed Arlo. I've been thinking about it, and I think he would want that much. We all know he didn't kill himself. He wouldn't do that. And the police are convinced it's a suicide, which means they aren't looking for the person who did it. It isn't fair for them to go free, when Arlo's..."

Flair turned in her bed to face Sapphire. "He didn't kill himself," she said gently, her red eyes shining with tears in the afternoon sun.

Leo looked from Flair's curled up form, to Sapphire, catching her eye. "We could tell the police that it wasn't a suicide, that they need to look for his killer."

Sapphire had thought about it, but she'd also recalled how adamant they were on the news about calling it a suicide. The headlines she'd seen run across the screen before she managed to change the channel.

She shook her head slightly. "Do you really think they'd believe us? They'd tell us we didn't know him that well, or that he was hiding things from us. They would tell us that we didn't know him at all, when we all know the truth," she said. "You don't have to help me if you don't want to, but I figured you'd all want answers, too."

"And justice," Ayden added. "For Arlo."

"And justice," she confirmed.

Ayden attempted a smile. "I'm in."

Leo wrung his hands, keeping his eyes cast down. "Me too. For Arlo," he repeated.

Sapphire turned to Flair, who was watching her in return. Flair pulled her hand out from under her duvet and held it out in the space between their beds. Sapphire took her hand and squeezed.

Maybe the four (five, really) of them could find whoever killed him without the police's help, because that was something they wouldn't get, no matter how convincing their argument that Arlo didn't kill himself. Or maybe, they would get caught up in something so much bigger than all of them. Something they couldn't escape.