Black

XXXIX

I looked out the window at the unfamiliar streets as we passed them in a blur.

I thrummed my fingers on the handle of the car door, zooming out of the world.

Zoe refused to talk to me or even look at me all morning long, letting Harry do everything she usually asks me to do. Even when I woke her up to give her the shot, she leaned her head to Harry's chest and held his hand, ignoring me completely.

It was now an hour past afternoon, and Zoella was back at the house with Gemma, who enthusiastically agreed to sit with her as we went to the school to talk with her teacher.

But we didn't find her at her usual morning post by the kindergarten; instead, we found a young woman who claimed to be her assistant. She informed us that she would be taking the teacher's place for the day because she called in sick.

Convincing her to give us the teacher's address wasn't as difficult as I thought it to be.

Harry pressed on the doorbell once we stood in front of her house.

I jumped on the balls of my feet as I went over the list of questions I had prepared in my mind.

When the door remained shut, Harry took a step towards it and rang the doorbell once again, instantly met by a woman's voice shouting, 'coming.'

We both drew in a breath as he dropped his arm back to his side, his hand suddenly squeezing mine. I directed my attention towards him.

"Be smooth, okay?" He said, his face pulled in a frown.

I gave him a curt nod and turned my head back to the shut door as his hand left mine.

Be smooth.

But my mind was ignorant to everything except for its thirst for answers. And it didn't care—nor did I—care how it could get them.

My heart picked up its pace as I wondered how many questions would be solved by this teacher.

Growing impatient, I stepped to the door this time, raising my fist and knocking twice before the door flew open.

She stood still as her eyes fell on us. She had a pair of blood-looking, maroon yoga pants on and a white t-shirt which was topped by a navy blue floral robe. Her black hair was secured by a clip as her almond-shaped eyes moved from me to Harry, a small smile spreading over her face.

"H-"

"We need to talk," I said, cutting straight to the chase.

Harry coughed, pushing me out of the door frame as he extended his arm and smiled politely, "Hi, ma'am. I'm Harry."

She shook his hand, smiling hesitantly, as she shifted her gaze back to me and opened the door wider to let us in.

Her house from the inside looked ordinary. Furniture scattered here and there, nothing eye-catching.

We sat down on a brown couch as she took a seat on a chair across from us before standing up again, "What do you guys want to drink?" She asked.

"Nothing, I just want to ask some que-"

"We will have coffee please," Harry said.

She nodded and left the living room, her robe flying behind her.

I looked at Harry, "What are you doing?" I whisper shouted, my eyes searching his face.

"What are you doing? We aren't investigators here, and she's not a criminal. You can't talk to her like that! I told you to take it smooth, Josephine. Smooth."