Chapter 7: Adagio
Shiloh slipped a long-sleeved top over her head. It was surprisingly similar to the kind of shirt she would be wearing around this time anyways. Though not as soft and somehow plainer than what she would choose for herself. A simple off-white with a pair of gray sweatpants. She’d already worn it once and hadn’t had the chance to wash it yet, but she couldn’t go downstairs in nothing. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and she was working with a limited wardrobe.
She’d already switched out the slightly dusty sheets with the ones she’d found. And she threw a few spare blankets from the same hall closet over the top of it to ward off the increasingly dropping temperatures. Then she sped through her nightly routine and set up the essentials of Cosmo’s terrarium. Something she was becoming a dab hand at with all the moving around. Exhaustion washed over her like a heavy-weight quilt at that thought. She couldn’t help but to rub her gritty and burning eyes. The life she’d built for herself had shattered and now fate seemed to be having a blast kicking the shards around. All while she scrambled to put the pieces back together.
Never once did she imagine herself in this kind of situation. Moving in with a stranger, a man she barely knew. She’d learned his name not even an hour ago. At least he seemed just as off-guard and flat footed as she felt.
Adriel was probably waiting for her downstairs with the requested cup of tea. She’d heard the shriek of a kettle a while ago, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the room quite yet. For whatever reason, this room felt like a safe place. As if when she left this room she would be thrown into something even crazier. The waves had only now started to settle and she felt as though turning the wrong way would toss them into another fury. But she couldn’t stay here forever. Especially with Adriel waiting on her.
Shiloh took a few deep breaths. She kept her eyes on Cosmo, her only stalwart and true friend it seemed, and watched him crawl around his terrarium. He was starting to settle now. His hurried scurringing slowing as he crawled into his shelter. It was about time for him to sleep anyway. She had the urge to thank him for staying up with her. And the urge to call up the old neighbor who’d given him to her. She took in another deep breath and slowly let it out. Only then did she turn and start down the stairs. She forced herself not to think about it, not stopping until she reached the table Adriel was sitting at.
He looked up as she approached, shoulders and back straightening with attention. She bit back the need to apologize. Shiloh was imposing on him, she knew, he hadn’t known that he’d be getting a new roommate (apparently) today. And he was feeling uncomfortable trying to accommodate her. But apologizing wasn’t going to fix that and she refused to uproot her life more than she already had.
Clearing his throat, Adriel’s shoulders hunched slightly, “I uh didn’t know what kind of tea you like,” he murmured, eyes cast downward, “so I just made you a lavender mix.” He nudged a plain white mug towards her. “But if you don’t like that, I can make you something else.” He coughed, eyes glancing upward for a split second, “I’ve got a, ah, large variety.” He seemed to twitch under her stare so she politely moved her eyes away.
“No, that would be great!” Shiloh hurried to reassure him, waving her hands and plopping herself down at the table. “Lavender’s good for stress, right?” Adriel dipped his head in response.
“It’s not a miracle cure,” he took a sip of his already half-empty mug, “but it’s better than nothing.” He tapped his fingers against the rim of his mug before raising it to point at a few small jars at the center of the table. “There’s sugar and honey there and milk in the fridge if you want it.” She nodded her thanks before reaching forward and bringing the honey jar closer to her. She grabbed the honey dipper and carefully transferred a few generous globs into her tea. They fell into a silence only broken by the clinking of glass and soft sips.
She took a moment to look around the room. This was where she would be staying for who knows how long, there was nothing wrong with familiarizing herself while she could. And if she learned something about the slightly mysterious man beside her…well that would be a lucky coincidence.
Overall, the house seemed very nice. Not small but not particularly large either. The kitchen and living room seemed to take up the entirety of the first floor. Excluding the stairs leading up the next floor. They seemed to merge into one another, the only separation being the tile in the kitchen and the carpet of the living room. And a ledge hanging down from the ceiling.
The kitchen consisted of a single island and a small round table. A fridge was tucked into one of the corners, near an oven with a microwave in the wall over it. Further on the connecting wall sat a sink with a window. And on the same wall more towards the living room was a door leading outside into what she assumed was the backyard.
From where she sat, she could see the side of a television on a stand in the living room. There were also two couches, one facing the tv and the other had its back facing towards them. There was a square table in the center of the living room with nothing on it. Which seemed to sum up the entirety of the house.
There didn’t seem to be a personal touch anywhere in the house. No photos, no wall hangings, not even a throw pillow or blanket on the couch. The place looked practically untouched. Unlived in. There wasn’t a cushion out of place. No dishes in the sink. The curtains blocking off the window and door were firmly shut. Though she supposed that made sense if he moved around as often as he said he did.
Something horribly sad bloomed in her chest at the thought. Shiloh had moved four times now in her entire life. When she left for college. When she first got her job in Margarite. Then the two moves, including this one, due to the Genesis murder case. Each one had been stressful, though to different extents. She couldn’t imagine packing up her life often enough where she didn’t have a home. Because this place definitely wasn’t a home, just a house he was staying in, just as Adriel described it. There was only one other consistency she’d found so far, other than how empty the place seemed, biblical things.
She’d quickly picked up on that theme. Over every doorway was a cross of some kind. Whether it be wooden, silver, or gold. Worn or brand new. Big or small. If there was a doorway, it had a cross hanging over it. There were even two on the separating ledge hanging between the kitchen and living room. One on each end. She saw about three in his bedroom just passing by, not including the one over the doorway.
And there were an insane amount of bibles. One sitting on the opposite side of the table. One dangerously close to the sink. Another in the bedside table of the guest room, carefully placed in a drawer. Even one under the sink in the bathroom. She was honestly shocked there wasn’t one on the living table. But after looking a bit longer, she found not one but two bibles on the tv stand. She could feel herself begin to sweat.
“Do the crosses make you uncomfortable?” Adriel asked, snapping her out of thoughts. He was looking down at the table, hands messing with an empty mug. “I can…take them down if you’d like.” He bounced a leg, turning his face away.
Shiloh’s cheeks erupted with heat. “Oh! Oh no! No, you don’t have to do that!” she stammered, almost knocking over her mug. “It’s your house, I couldn’t ask you to do that!” She let out a nervous laugh.
Adriel didn’t respond for a moment. Then he turned so she could see half his face. Which was blank except for the slight furrow of his brow.
“But they do make you uncomfortable,” he said, with no room for argument in his tone.
Shiloh blinked and blanked on a polite response.
He nodded, sat back in his chair, and sighed, “I know logically that a lot of people don’t have the same experience with religion that I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “and I don’t want to bring up any bad memories you have while you stay here.”
Shiloh sat back in her own chair, blinking owlishly. She felt…oddly touched that he would go to such lengths to make her comfortable. She pursed her lips and paused a moment to think before responding.
“It’s not that I have bad experiences per say,” she started cautiously. She could feel Adriel’s eyes on her, his strangely piercing stare, so she kept her head down while she spoke. “I was raised pretty religious as a kid. It was…just how everyone was in my town, you know?” She gave him a slightly bitter smile before looking away again. “I liked it at first. Going to church, talking with everybody, singing with everyone. Being connected in that way. But—the church was pretty traditional in its views. And I never really saw myself following those traditional roles.” She scratched her upper lip and turned her eyes to the quickly brightening sky. “I didn’t wanna be a homemaker or a housewife. I didn’t wanna get married right out of high school and have kids.” She scratched her upper lip again and huffed. “I was what you’d call a tomboy growin’ up I guess.”
Shiloh tapped the bridge of her nose, “I got this messin’ around in the woods when I was kid. I was supposed to be doin’ some sort of fundraiser thing for the church with the other girls. Probably bakin’ cookies or sewin’ patches or something like that. Instead I wandered off into the woods by myself—I went huntin’ with my dad all the time so I was feelin’ pretty cocky—and broke my nose trippin’ over a root.” She let out a breathy laugh. “I walked myself all the way back home, a bit teary eyed and face covered in blood. I’d never seen my mom so mad. And the doctor she took me to was a bit of a quack and didn’t set it right. So it ended up like this.”
She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the accent that had crept up on her while speaking, “I guess that’s when I knew I was a bit different than everyone else. Though there were definitely other things that made me different.” Like being queerer than a crooked branch. But she kept that thought to herself, not knowing how the obviously religious Adriel would take it.
He visibly thought her words over. He chewed on his frowning lip, brows burrowing and hands dropping from the mug. He tapped on the table a few times and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he seemed to nod to himself. Adriel opened his eyes, a determined but solemn glint in them.
“I guess it was the opposite for me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He grabbed his mug and stood up, turning his back to Shiloh as he headed deeper into the kitchen. Adriel fussed with the kettle as he spoke. “Father Asaph took me in out of the good of his heart, accepted me from the get-go. But the community didn’t feel the same.” He poured the steaming water into his mug before grabbing a tea bag. “I was a…difficult child. Angry. Bitter. Prone to tantrums. And even at my best I was overly honest and off putting.” He dipped the tea bag into the water, using a nearby spoon to push it down. A chuckle left him, “especially with my…skill set. Trust me, neighbors don’t like it when you can always tell whether they’re lying or not. And they really don’t like it when you’re not afraid to tell them you know they’re lying.”
His chuckles died off as he set the spoon aside to let the tea steep. He turned slightly, enough that Shiloh could catch the bittersweet downturn of his lips. “But Father Asaph never turned away from me, even when the town started to refer to me as a devil child. Instead, he sought to prove them wrong.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes shutting and lips twitching up.
“Devil, witch, fae, and any other fiend can’t speak the scripture or abide by it. So he sat me down and walked me through the bible. He taught me how to pray. He taught me hymns and read to me. When I did wrong, he showed me through biblical passages why I was wrong. When I did well, he congratulated me with another passage. He was the only one to ever bother to guide me like that and religion was our compass.” Adriel quickly turned away and started to mess with his tea again. “One day, he didn’t have to tell me why because I knew the scripture by heart. Though he was always there to watch over me. And eventually the town began to accept me, quirks and all. I was strange but I could lead a prayer. I was brutally honest but God would rather have that than a liar. For the first time in my life, I felt connected to the people around me.”
He finally sat back down at the table, sipping at the still steaming fluid. Adriel didn’t look back up or continue talking. His head was kept at an almost exact 90 degree angle. Straight down with his longish black hair hiding his face away.
Shiloh found herself stunned into silence. He was obviously reluctant to share any of this with her but forced himself to anyways. All so she wouldn’t be the only one sharing personal details. A honeyed mixture of both awe and modesty flowed through her. Coating her insides with syrupy warmth. She put a hand out on the table with a smile that he couldn’t see.
“Thank you,” she said softly, not knowing how to convey her gratitude, “I’m…happy for you, genuinely. I’m glad you had that experience and have someone in your life that cares for you that way.”
Adriel flinched, hard, almost spilling the tea with how hard he cringed back.
Shiloh jumped, heart stuttering in her chest as she flinched back herself.
“Had.” His voice came out in a harsh whisper, as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Confusion briefly fogged her mind before the realization hit. Her stomach soured and cold regret swiftly stole away any lingering warmth.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, mortified, “I didn’t know—” She stopped and restarted. “I didn’t mean to—” She decided that wasn’t any good either, shaking her head. “I—” A breath harshly pushed through her nose. “I’m…sorry for your loss,” she eventually settled on. Luckily, Adriel seemed to calm in the face of her own panic. He let out a shaky breath and shook his head.
“N-No, it’s alright,” he said weakly, “you couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault for assuming.” He shot her a quick look before his eyes turned to the window. “He died years ago anyway, it’s not like it was recent.”
Shiloh couldn’t help the stern frown that pulled on her lips. “Just because it wasn’t recent, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” she huffed, “I’m not good at stuff like this but you’re allowed to feel hurt over your father’s death.”
Adriel didn’t respond for a long moment. His shoulders and back were stiff as a board. Each raspy breath forced his chest up and down. His hands sat clenched into fists on his lap, barely containing a light tremor. “I know,” he said, in a tone that suggested the opposite, “but still, I can’t let myself react like…that anytime he’s brought up.” He sucked in another breath and spoke in a soft but firm tone, “a man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.” Then in an even quiter, whisper, almost to himself, “precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”
Shiloh could feel her heart breaking for the man in front of her. She forced herself to push down the sorrow and pity he felt for him. They went like shards of glass down her throat. Only when she felt she could speak without tears did she speak.
“Keep the crosses up, them being up is more help than hindrance,” she said, “how could I be uncomfortable now that I know what they mean to you?” She shot him a shaky smile.
Adriel finally looked up fully, an almost scarily blank look on his face. He looked her over with that concentrated stare. She did her best to radiate the fact that she was being truthful. Eventually he gave a stilted nod.
“Okay, but let me know if you want me to take them down,” he said, voice back to normal, “you should be as comfortable as possible while you stay here. Father Asaph would have my head if I didn’t.”
Shiloh gave another nod in return. “Of course. Thank you, Adriel,” she resisted the urge to reach out and grab his hand, “You’ve been a blessing. My guardian angel during all this.”
Adriel flushed under the praise, cheeks steadily turning pinker and pinker, “I’m just doing what any good man should,” he said gruffly, “no need to thank me for that.”
Shiloh let out a soft laugh at that before standing up.
“Let me be the judge of that,” she teased, setting her mug in the sink, “I’ll be turning in soon, so don’t feel the need to stay up to entertain me. I’m sure this has been a long day for you as well.”
Adriel scoffed, “not as long as yours. I hope you can fall asleep and get some rest.”
Shiloh nodded her thanks and moved towards the stairs, leaving the solemn man behind her. It was only when she shut the door to the bedroom behind her did she let out a loud sigh. She leaned back against the wood and tilted her head up. That was about as stressful as she thought it would be. Although she was happy to know more about her housemate. He didn’t seem religious in the bad sort of way. Rather he seemed like one of the few religious types that was alright with her.
His story had pulled at all her heartstrings. She had no clue someone around her age had seemingly gone through so much. No wonder he was so closed off. She wondered if he’d ever shared that story with anyone else. Surely he had, he had coworkers and he must’ve had friends. But deep down she doubted that he’d let someone that close in a long time. She shook that thought away and forced her mind in a different direction.
Adriel was an awkward sort of man, not unlike herself. Closed off but not unkind. He was obviously dedicated to her comfort and making her feel safe in his home. Which was more than she could say for most men. This was turning out to be better than she had hoped. And maybe Adriel would gain something out of knowing her. Whether that be someone to share his past with or someone to turn his focus on. Maybe she could even convince him to take some time off once in a while. Or to talk to a professional about his overwhelming grief.
Shiloh cringed at her own assumptions. Really, she shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions about a practical stranger. Even if they had shared a personal moment. She shook her head and reached into her pocket for her phone. It was about 8am now. Which meant she could finally make the call she’d been putting off for days now. She might as well knock out all her stressful tasks at once, right? That way she could be done with it and move on. And she should probably do it now, while Adriel was stewing in the kitchen. Who knew when she would have a private moment like this again? She continued to try and convince herself as she unlocked and scrolled through her contacts.
When she found the name, Marina, she only allowed herself a moment of hesitation before clicking call. The call screen appeared and she brought the phone to her ear. It only rang once or twice before being picked up, but her stomach still managed to twist itself into knots with each passing second.
“Finally!” a young, feminine voice snapped, “I was wondering whether you remembered I existed or not.” Shiloh couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. Thankfully, her sister wasn’t there in the flesh or she would’ve been stirred into a greater fury.
“Well good morning to you too,” Shiloh teased, “someone’s feeling energetic this morning.”
“Yeah, well one of us has to get up for college classes,” Marina snapped. There was a shuffling noise, presumably her throwing herself onto her bed.
“You act as if I didn’t have to go through the same thing,” Shiloh said back. She moved to her own bed, or what would serve as her bed for however long. She only sat down on it, not risking laying down quite yet.
“Well, I’m not feeling generous towards someone who hasn’t called for two months,” Marina grumbled. A spear of guilt stabbed through Shiloh’s chest. She could only sigh.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry, it’s just been…kind of crazy.”
Marina let out a disbelieving huff, “yeah, right. You don’t ever do anything, so how crazy could it possibly be?”
Shiloh couldn’t help the bark of bitter laughter that escaped her.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling,” she said, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice, “you know about those murders? The Genesis one’s?”
Marina fell deathly silent. Then there was a loud amount of shuffling.
“What about them, Shy?” she asked, suddenly serious.
Shiloh took in a shaky breath and forced it out, “everyone in my apartment complex was murdered—just all of them gone, dead in one night. Except me.” There were a few beats of silence. “The police have moved me to a safer place but I’m still involved.”
Marina’s trembling gasp crackled through the speaker. “What do you mean still involved?” she spat, “What are you still doing there? This isn’t something to—mess around with! Come home Shy!”
Shiloh squeezed the bridge of her nose, ignoring the way it and her eyes burned. “It’s not that simple, Rina,” she said, as calmly and patiently as she could, “I’m the only lead they have and leaving could put me in danger. Could put other people in danger.”
“I don’t care about other people!” Something clashed and clattered in the background and Shiloh winced. “I care about you! Come home! Right now!” She huffed like an enraged bull and the sound was so familiar she could picture her.
Standing in the middle of her room, with its little twinkling string lights and her numerous oversized plushies. Bears, food, shapes, all with adorable little faces and smiles. Which wouldn’t placate her at the moment. Her ear length, warm brown fro puffed like the fur of an irritated cat. Marina had inherited more of their mother’s red hair than she had after all. Along with her temper. She was probably wearing something trendy, something in the moment. An oversized sweater vest with light wash jeans. Or some sort of crop top and short-shorts if she wanted to send their parents into cardiac arrest.
She would stand there, fists clenched at her sides and body tensed for a fight. Their shared dark brown eyes would differ. Marina’s lit with an unholy rage and her own cold with forced indifference. She would get up in her face, standing on the tips of her toes to make up the small height difference between them. Teeth would be bared and spit would fly.
A wave of grief slammed into Shiloh. Tears filled her eyes and she had to pull back the phone to choke back a sob. All of sudden she desperately missed her little sister. When was the last time she’d seen her? Not through a screen or her voice through the phone. But in person. When was the last time she’d hugged her? The last time they’d reached out to squeeze each other’s hand? When was the last time Rina had shoved her face into her neck or shoulder, arms wrapping around her in a vice grip? Six months? A year? More than that?
She sat with the feeling a moment longer, blinking away tears before bringing the phone back to her face.
“I won’t,” she said sternly. Being stern was the only way to make Marina stop. If you weren’t, she’d steamroll right over you until she got her way. “I won’t come home.” Silence lingered between them before her sister flopped back down. When she spoke it was in a heart broken whisper.
“Why not?”
Shiloh took a bracing breath, “because I won’t put you in danger,” she said, warming her tone but being no less firm, “I won’t risk them following me back home. And putting you, ma, and dad in their strike zone. If anything happened to you guys…I’d never forgive myself.”
Marina fell silent and Shiloh didn’t say anything more. Letting her sit with that and come to terms with it. She let out a long sigh.
“I still wish you would come home,” she said, somewhat petulantly.
Shiloh could imagine her crossing her arms with a pout.
“I will—I’ll come visit when this is all over,” she said, “whenever they’re caught or whenever the police say it’s safe. But not a second before that.”
Marina let out another, longer sigh.
“…Did you tell mom or dad yet?”
“…”
“Course you didn’t.” There was a certain amount of bitterness in Marina’s tone and it stoked the guilt and shame still burning in her stomach. But she didn’t apologize or offer an explanation.
“You really should, you know—,” Marina continued, “call them. I’m real tired of being your messenger pigeon.” Shiloh still didn’t respond, couldn’t even think of any sort of proper response. “They’re worried about you, you know? They keep asking me questions I can’t answer. Like if you’re eating enough. Or if you’re making new friends. Or when you’re finally gonna come back and visit.”
Silence.
“At least I can answer that one now,” she said sarcastically, “hey mom, Shiloh says she’s gonna come home whenever she’s not being hunted by the most prolific serial killer of the last decade.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Shiloh snapped. She took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out. “Please, don’t tell them. I don’t want them to worry.”
“Oh so I’m just supposed to keep it to myself,” Marina snapped back, “go to family dinner like my big sister isn’t in life threatening danger. Are you kidding me?”
“You’re right, you’re right!” Shiloh quickly placated, “I’m sorry, I’ll tell them. Okay? Just give me a week. One week and I’ll tell them.”
Marina thought this over. The sound of her press-on nails clicking against the back of her phone echoed through the speaker. “One week, that’s it. If you haven’t told them, I’m telling em,” Marina agreed. “I’m telling em and I’m leaving. I’m going to Leanne’s house or Sienna’s and I’m locking myself there and making you deal with the fall out. Alright?”
“Okay, okay, I got it,” Shiloh sighed, “I’ll tell them.” They stewed in a charged silence. With the crackling of static being the only thing to fill it.
“You should call them more anyways,” Marina said, sounding hesitant for the first time. “It’s not right to ignore em.”
“I know it’s not right,” Shiloh said, voice faint.
“They love ya, they really do. And they won’t stop even with you being—” her voice briefly dropped down into a hissed whisper, “—gay and shit. Or with you not being all into the religion bull.” She could hear the faint sound of her clicking becoming quicker and quicker.“I mean, I’m pretty sure they know I’m not really all hardcore bout it either. But we just don’t talk about it.”
Shiloh didn’t respond out loud but instead let it stir right behind her teeth. What if she didn’t want to ignore it? What if she wanted to bring a girl home for Christmas? Or a nonbinary person? Or even a man who didn’t fit the strict example of what a man should be? What if she wanted to rage at them for a little bit? What if she wanted to tell them how lonely, how scared she’d felt growing up?
How going to church stuffed in her Sunday best after a day of deer hunting confused her. How sitting in those pews made her feel so small? Like she never mattered and never will matter. Nothing but a bug for the almighty to crush? How the eyes on her messy curls and acne ridden face, the huffs at her dirt covered and uneven nails still haunted her.
That sometimes when she laid in bed at night, all she could see were those white moms. All primped and preened to perfection, perfectly straight hair set stiff with hairspray and covered head to toe in perfume. With their perfectly painted nails and lips and their equally perfect daughters. The way they would glare and sneer at her. Looking her up and down, the disgust clear on their faces. As if it wasn’t enough of a sin being brown, she dared to not doll herself up, to present herself to the Lord in a ribbon and gleaming box. Even when he was supposed to look at all his creations with kind eyes and mercy?
Didn’t they remember being glared at? Sneered at? Back when she was barely old enough to remember and the community was smaller than it was now? Didn’t they remember always having their own pew? With at least one empty pew in front and behind them? As if they were contagious or diseased? How the priest would smile at everyone else? Shake hands and speak joyously with the other churchgoers. But when they would try to seek his attention, his face would close like a slammed door and his eyes would turn as cold as ice? Was she the only one who remembered? Was she the only one who cared?
Marina didn’t, she was a baby after all. And things had started turning around by the time she’d begun walking and babbling. More people moving in, forcing everyone else to adapt or seem as bigoted as they were. But surely their parents remembered? Did they feel none of the hurt she did? Did they not feel betrayed by the church? By their community?
“Shy, are you okay?” Marina asked.
Shiloh blinked and re-entered the present, “yeah, I’m here,” she murmured, “just thinking is all…” Her body had turned to fog or smoke. Incorporable. But she grit her teeth and forced herself to stay in the moment. “I’ll think about what you said, Rina. But right now I’m just trying to stay safe. And keep you all safe.” For a long moment, Marina didn’t respond.
“Yeah…Yeah ‘course. I get it, you’ve got enough on your plate…” She could hear the sound of Marina chewing on her lip and bit back a scold. “I can let you go if you want?”
“That’s probably for the best,” Shiloh hummed, “I haven’t slept yet and I still have some things I need to do.”
“Mkay, I’ll talk to you soon then?” Marina said, a plea poorly hidden in her voice.
Shiloh forced away any bitterness, any anger lingering in her, to pay attention to her baby sister. “Of course, I’ll talk to you soon. Probably after I let mom and dad know, okay?” A sigh of relief came through the speaker.
“Okay, sounds good to me. Try to get some sleep.”
“I will, thank you. Love you, Rina.”
“Love ya too, Shy.”
The line went dead, leaving Shiloh in a silence that seemed like it would last forever. She fell back onto the bed. Her phone clattered onto the floor but she couldn’t find the strength to pick it up. Emotions she couldn’t put a name to swirled in her like a twister. Shiloh put her arm over her face and let out a stifled sob. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did everything have to be so difficult? Questions she couldn’t answer descended on her like a hoard of hungry insects.
She didn’t know how long she laid there but it was only the buzzing of her phone that brought her out of it. Shiloh wearily fumbled for the device, her fingers skimming over the sides of it, before she was finally able to pick it up.
Only one message stared at her from the screen.
She wiped away the sticky tracks on her cheeks and blinked away the tears lingering in her eyes. Sniffling, she also rubbed at the wet patch of snot beneath her nose. The light of the phone burned her eyes but she squinted and read the message. Shiloh immediately perked up. It was from Mara.
Hello darling, I just wanted to confirm our lunch date for today. I’ve made reservations at the cutest little cafe. You’re sure to enjoy their rich teas, adorable sandwiches, and decadent desserts. Get back to me when you can.
Shiloh swore under her breath. In the chaos of everything, she’d lost track of the date. Should she cancel? She didn’t know how Adriel or the police would feel about her going out after the newest murder. She bit down on her lip in indecision. But that indecision was quickly burnt away by a sharp pain of longing. She’d been looking forward to this for days. Why should she have to put it off because Genesis decided to murder now? A huff she couldn’t contain left her. Feeling petulant, she quickly typed back a confirmation. Being sure to add the new address at the end of the message. Then she plugged her phone in, set an alarm for a few hours from now, and fell back onto the bed.
Her little moment of rebellion warmed her chest. For once, she felt like she was in control of the situation. She didn’t even care if the decision could possibly bite her on the ass later. Lifting herself up, she pulled the blankets over on top of her. She then turned to face Cosmo, watching his sleeping face until her own eyes began to droop. Shiloh was very excited to see her new friend. And nothing would take that away from her.
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