ELENA'S POV
I understand why my parents were worried, and that's the issue.
If they were unfair, then I would have just ignored it.
If they were overprotective, then I would have argued with them.
But these were not situations. They were literally watching their daughter slowly getting guilty and pretending not to see it.
I stopped typing.
I was half-way through the forensic report when my mind started wandering again.
Home.
The image of the lone portrait in the hallway.
The vacant spot at the table in the dining room.
Her.
Aurelia.
Four whole years.
Four years and her name still hits me like a cold, wired hand.
The blinking cursor was like a crying child.
Waiting.
Of course the computers didn't think about grief they were just tools you used to get the job done.
So I kept looking at the toxicology report.
The words were fuzzy.
Not because of a challenge in understanding them.
Because my thoughts were somewhere else.
Yet again.
I heard my mother speaking at breakfast.
"The only thing I wish is that she won't be blaming herself forever."
A quick blink of my eyelids was all it took to shut out the tears.
Why was it that I couldn't forgive myself?
I was the last person she trusted with her secrets.
The last person that not believed her.
And the last person that said to her that she was imagining things.
A bitter laugh almost escaped me.
Here I was a sister standing before her and she asked for help and I run away.
I let out a sharp breath.
That was enough.
The dead didn't consider I was having a bad day and neither did the living.
I tried to pull my mind back to the report.
Evidence.
Results.
Conclusions.
Easy.
Clear.
Tangible.
Things I felt I could believe in.
When I was done, the evening sunlight was already disappearing outside the laboratory windows.
The clock showed 5:07 PM.
Finally.
I collected the finished documents and headed to my supervisor's office.
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AUTHOR'S POV
Elena knocked softly and then entered.
Her boss barely lifted his eyes from the heap of papers on his desk.
"I hope you're here to help me get rid of some of these."
Without speaking, Elena set the finished report down before him.
He turned the pages.
He even turned more.
Then he looked up.
"By the way, you're making the rest of the department look bad."
"That's their problem."
He chuckled.
"One of these days, you'll figure out how to accept a compliment."
"Not going to happen."
He signed the cover page and handed it back to her.
"Go home, Elena."
She gave a playful look.
"That sounded like you were almost caring."
"It was a threat."
"Much better."
Finally, a real smile showed on her face.
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Evening spread over the city like a slowly moving veil, coloring the streets in various hues of amber and gold. The sun hung at the horizon, its last rays sparkled on the glass windows and damp roads. Office buildings gradually emptied one floor at a time , line of tired employees appearing one opening after another on the lively streets below.
The café was situated at the end of the old street, between a bookstore and a florist.
Its cozy lighting flowed out through the wide glass windows onto the street, making a friendly glow against the evening shadows. People chatter and the smell of great coffee can be traced in the open air each time the door is opened.
It was their café. At any rate, that is what Mira kept calling it. They've been there since high school.
Same corner booth.
Same crappy jazz music.
Same scratched wooden tables.
Some things end up growing with us.
For starters, this café must be one of those things.
The scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, cinnamon, and vanilla combined while slow tunes were playing through hidden speakers. Elena noticed Mira right away.
She had a coffee in her hands though.
And obviously, she was reading legal documents a typical criminal lawyer whose life revolves around her profession. Madly obsessed.
Some people are just physically unable to relax.
Mira happened to be one of those.
The owner of the café was used to their regular order by then.
That was both reassuring and a little humiliating.
Mira was already at their booth, working on three files while two cups of coffee were there waiting for her.
"You are late."
"I arrived three minutes after you."
"Still late."
I rolled my eyes and sat down.
Some things certainly survive growing up.
Elena took a seat across from her. "You ordered before I showed up."
"I was defending society."
"Defending it against what?"
"You making decisions while without caffeine."
Elena giggled.
"Good point."
Mira slid one of the mugs toward her.
"You haven't got a moment to yourself, have you?"
"My parents just forced the intervention on me during breakfast."
"Really?"
"Of course."
Mira made a face.
"That bad, huh?"
Elena was lost in thought staring at her coffee.
"Apparently, they think that I am blaming myself."
"Well, they have a point."
The reply was way too fast.
Elena raised her eyes. Mira stayed calm.
"They're right, " she said again.
The silence stretched on.
"It's not helping us, you know."
"It's not meant to."
Elena breathed out heavily.
"You've no idea how to comfort a person."
"Still, you never stop coming back."
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
Mira was grinning.
"Your parents adore you."
"I realize that."
"Then let them be."
Elena turned her face away.
That's not the problem, is it?
She slightly squinted her eyes.
It's never the case.
The silence kept on going.
Elena whispered: "I believe what they're scared of is that I won't be able to get over it."
Mira's face became even more tender.
You aren't obliged to get over it, you know.
Elena raised her head.
She slowly went on.
"It's more like you have to forgive yourself, Eli."
That was the truth, which knocked Elena down the most.
At first, there was a change in Mira's face.
Understated.
Risky.
That was the look she received when she was going to mention the thing Elena least of all wanted to be talked about.
"By the way, talking about moving on"
Elena instantly guessed the point.
No way.
She gave a little grin. "Yes"
"No"
"Jason rang me last week."
Elena almost swallowed the coffee wrong.
Mira appeared insanely pleased. "That's it."
"What is that?"
"That expression."
"I don't have an expression."
"You've definitely got a reaction."
It was disgusting that she was right.
Because she was aware of it more than I was.
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FLASHBACK
Three months before the graduation.
Rain was striking against the school windows with force.
Aurelia's disappearance was the topic that the students filled the hallway while discussing it.
Every talk was like a stab
Elena was loathed going there.
Whispers were hated.
Pity was hated.
Then, coming out of nowhere, Jason's voice...
"...it's just crazy."
Elena stopped in her tracks.
There he was, next to those other students.
One burst into laughter.
Another one jokingly said: "Maybe she just ran away."
Then, Jason didn't agree.
He actually smiled.
That was the only thing she caught.
The grin.
The chat.
The moment.
Elena's sorrow was responsible for this. She immediately went to the spot.
"Are you making fun of my sister?"
The whole corridor went quiet.
Jason was taken aback.
"What?"
"You heard me."
The look on his face changed immediately.
First the bafflement.
Then the caring.
But she didn't wait long enough to witness it.
She went away even before he made the attempt to talk.
Even before he could tell her that he was not joking about Aurelia.
He was laughing because of a humor that was totally unrelated.
Even before he presented the piece of information that he found which shows her disappearance was not voluntary.
She never let him explain her.
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PRESENT
Mira exhaled deeply.
"You still love him."
"No."
"Elena."
"No."
"Elena."
"No."
"You're a terrible liar."
Elena sipped her coffee slowly.
Mira seemed a little bit like a winner and that is the reason why Elena hated her too.
The café door flung open.
The cold air brushed in while a familiar figure appeared.
"ISN'T THAT ILLEGAL?"
Everyone's attention was focused on the speaker.
The person who was well known to everyone was, in fact, the one who had been entered by the door and was dramatically pointing at the menu.
"Oh my god." Mira whined. "He's coming."
Oliver, a famous venture capitalist whose contacts were so numerous that it seemed they stretched from city hall to corporate boardrooms, was pointing at the menu with exaggerated authority, as if he was about to strike a billion-dollar deal rather than choose a cup of coffee.
"The sandwich is smaller than it was last month."
The barista did not even raise his eyebrows.
"You measured it?"
"I took photos."
"Of a sandwich?"
"Proof counts."
Mira hid her face in her hands as if to mask herself from that kind of embarrassment which was being created while Elena laughed the first time that day really knowing how funny their "Mr. I know a Guy" can be.
"Oh, wonderful here comes Mr. 'I Know a Guy', "Mira exclaimed in a dramatic tone.
"Please let me know before it is too late that you too have a person in the sandwich industry?"
"Actually, I do."
Oliver looked very self-satisfied when he put the pastry box in the middle of the table. The smell of fresh butter and sweet warmness was immediately released. After that, he lifted the cover with great show of satisfaction, unveiling the lovely croissants, fruit tarts, éclairs, and cinnamon rolls arrayed in almost suspiciously perfect manners.
Mira squinted her eyes.
"You didn't buy those."
"I definitely did."
"No, you managed to come up with one of your contacts."
Oliver rested on his chair a little. "And what if I did?"
Mira accused him with her finger. "There it is. Every time your answer to a problem is 'I know a guy'.
"That's because I do know a guy, " said Oliver.
"You know way too many guys, " Mira said.
"That's what we call networking, " said Oliver.
"It's what we call not being able to function without the help of others, " said Mira.
Oliver pretended to be shocked. "You're hurting me deeply."
Elena across the table was holding her coffee cup with both hands and smiling at the tear of their argument She had realized a long time ago the way Mira and Oliver mostly talked was through fights and insults So one could hardly tell when the teasing ended and the friendship began.
"Most people greet their friends with a hello you know, " Elena said with a smile.
"We do, " Mira said.
"Well, this is the hello, "
Oliver pretended to be very serious. "Actually, we are being quite polite."
"By your standards?" Elena laughed.
"Exactly."
Mira took a piece of chocolate éclair.
Oliver quickly put his hand over the box.
"Premium pastry. One per customer."
Mira was surprised to see him.
"You brought them for us."
"Yes."
"Then we can have them."
"They are under my management."
"Oliver, a pastry box isn't a multinational corporation."
"Everything is a corporation if you believe in yourself."
Elena found it so funny that she shook her head in disbelief.
"How do you two manage to live with each other?"
"We do not, " Mira quickly replied.
"That's a daily struggle, " Oliver agreed.
Mira and Oliver had a short eye contact and then simultaneously looked away with the expression of artificial irritation.
Mira took one of the pastries.
Oliver showed a look of betrayal.
"That's stealing."
"No, it's fair pay."
"For what?"
"For recognizing who you are."
Elena felt happiness leaking from the corners of her lips over a cup of coffee. Fanatically arguing was not a way to keep quiet; the café was filled with people's voices, but the sound of Mira and Oliver's constant quarrelling was like a comforting home to them.
Oliver was halfway through his second pastry when Mira casually asked
"So"
Mira reclined in her chair. "Did you get in touch with Jason lately?"
Oliver moaned hugely.
"Here we go."
"But he is your brother."
"The thing is he is a very bad texter."
"That's not what I meant."
Oliver drew a long breath.
"No, not really."
"Not really?"
"He replies to one out of three messages."
"Then what?"
"And after that, he vanishes."
Mira put her head on her hands.
"That seems doubtful."
"That's Jason."
"Agreed."
Oliver continued to enjoy his pastry.
"He only called once, last week."
Mira immediately sat up straight.
"And?"
"His voice was that of a man who has had enough."
"What kind of tired?"
Oliver memorized a few seconds before answering.
He changed the topic then.
"Changed."
That drew the attention of both of the ladies.
Oliver hardly ever sounded so grave.
"How so?" Mira questioned.
"He kept from me the information about what he was working on."
"That's to be expected."
"Yes, I thought so."
"Besides, that is the scenario in which he normally gets annoyed."
Mira chuckled.
"It's really that way."
"But at least this time he sounded..."
Oliver was trying to find the right word.
"...determined."
"That is still normal."
"No."
He shook his head.
"Not that way."
Elena did not say anything but her eyes were fixed on the cup. The talk was not aimed at her. However, every time Jason was mentioned, it seemed to be so loud that it drowned out anything else in the café.
Oliver spoke.
"It seemed as if he had come across something."
Mira squinted her eyes.
"What kind of something?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be here, would I?"
"You questioned him."
"Of course."
"Well?"
"He told me to stop asking questions."
Mira chuckled.
"That's very Jason."
"Besides that, he just cut me off."
"That is Jason, for sure."
Elena was no longer able to restrain herself.
"What exactly did he say?"
She asked before realizing what she'd done. Mira and Oliver both turned their heads toward Elena.
Elena wished she hadn't said it right away.
Oliver luckily gave her a pass.
Looking up as he visualized the scene
"I think he said something like this..."
He drummed the table with his fingers.
"'If I am right, this is a case that has been hidden for a very long time.'
A brief pause struck the trio.
Mira even ceased smiling.
"That was all he said?"
"Yeah."
"So, what happened next?"
Oliver gave her a sarcastic look.
"He just hung up."
Mira was laughing so much she almost spilled her coffee.
"I can't believe you're related."
"I ask myself that question every single day of my life."
Elena turned her face. That lone sentence was still haunting her.
Really older than what people reckon.
It started to bother her somehow.
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OLIVER POV
Seeing Elena smile shouldn't have been such a relief, really.
However, it was.
For a time after Aurelia vanished, I didn't even recognize this side of her.
The side that smiled.
The side that rolled her eyes.
The side that would argue with Mira about the silliest things.
Generally, people viewed Elena as a figure of strength.
Very disciplined.
Extremely brilliant.
However, they didn't grasp how much effort she put in to maintain that attitude.
And then there was Jason...
My gosh.
These two? They were absolutely impossible.
If the Olympics had a discipline for stubbornness, both would be wearing gold medals!
One wouldn't confess the other was missed.
One wouldn't confess the other was still cared for.
And by some miracle, the rest of us were the ones who had to bear the brunt.
Especially me.
Most certainly me.
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Later That Night
More
It was even colder inside the cabin.
The snow kept hitting the windows and the wind made the walls shake.
The main thing inside was the piece of paper stuck on the wall.
With other smaller pieces of paper, with dates, places, few sentences.
Jason couldn't believe it. He was just staring at the wall and tracing with his finger the most recent point on the map.
By the end of the day, when he had to go back to Clara Whitmore's last known location, he learned a new piece of information.
He was at the spot where he had found the scarf when he found the object. Metal shreds
Initially it was thought insignificant.
Most main characters in similar stories would have relied on it.
But that was not the whole truth.
More importantly -- they had tried to hide it.
Not just dropped.
Anyway, Jason took the piece of metal and put it away.
Now the piece of metal is in an evidence bag ready for the scientists to look at it.
Yet it is a puzzle for him as how to justify that thing being the cause of what they are looking for.
Just that it was so.
Being at this line of work for decades, he had learned that which gut feeling one should believe.
The thing had a message.
He just was not familiar with it.
Yet.
A window popped up on his computer.
Jason didn't hesitate to open the file. The laboratory results for the scarf Clara had worn occupied the entire display.
On a quick look, everything seemed normal. However, his attention was caught by the chemical analysis part.
He was less certain.
The document revealed that the scarf fibers carried several traces of chemicals.
It wasn't just smoke.
In fact, smoke was only one of the elements.
The investigation also found iron oxide particles, old machine oil residues, sulfur compounds, tiny pieces of coal ash, manganese dust in amounts higher than usual.
Jason read the paragraph again two additional times.
The mix was quite unusual.
Extremely unusual.
Each substance on its own didn't have any major implications.
But combined?
They illustrated a part of the story.
It was an industrial area.
Really old.
Not well ventilated.
Left alone for years.
Yet somehow still dirty enough for those particles to get on the cloth.
After the investigation, the laboratory team added some more information.
The trace appearance is considerably older in comparison with the time the fabric was kept exposed.
It is most probably that the contamination came from a place where the particles had been deposited over a long time.
Jason read that last sentence over and over.
A place.
Not a person.
Not an object.
A place.
Somewhere Clara had been.
Or somewhere that a person who is connected to Clara had been recently.
His eyes moved to the evidence packet with a metal shreds in it.
After that he looked at the report.
The two things didn't fit.
At least not now.
Yet, he had a real thing in his hands for the first time since he arrived.
A hint.
Not myths.
Not hearsay.
Not scared people.
Proof.
And proof normally shows a path to somewhere.
The thing is, this time, maybe he would not like where that path leads him.