Chapter 2

Chloe felt her left pocket vibrate, snapping her back to the present. She brushed her graying blonde hair out of her face and reached down her pocket to pull out her cell phone. From the lock screen she could read the short text her sister sent her.

Everything okay? The message read.

Chloe swiped the screen to reply but hesitated. What was she supposed to say to that? Yes? But she isn’t. Amy’s not here and never will be again; the bottom of Naryville Lake and Amy herself saw to that. No? But being here puts Chloe at ease. Being in Amy’s room, trailing her fingers along the light switch Amy herself had used so many times, and drinking in Amy’s signature cherry blossom aroma all over her bedsheets and furniture eased Chloe’s weakened heart. This is Amy; Amy is here.

Amy was here, she reminded herself. Chloe felt her heart leap to her throat, and her chest tightened. She began to feel dizzy. She turned away from the window and placed her oxygen tank back on the bed next to where she would sit. As she began to strategically rotate her body to keep her plugged in to the tank, her eye caught the corner of a dark grey book--the only thing in the room that looked out of place--lying on the other windowsill, semi-hidden behind the lavender curtains.

Chloe picked up her oxygen tank to approach and investigate the mysterious book. Upon extracting it from behind the curtain, she saw it was a journal. Its hematite color branded it as a foreign object amid a room full of soft pinks, purples, and the occasional yellow. Chloe opened the journal and found a messaged scrawled inside the front cover in messy handwriting:

Brandon’s journal. Don’t touch my shit.

That explains it, Chloe thought. This journal belongs to Amy’s ex. She recalled one evening in which Amy had informed her of their breakup, which had occurred several months before Amy’s body was found. She knew the police had questioned Brandon, but he had been in rehab for a while, so there wasn’t much that he knew. Strange his journal would be here though, as he went missing the day after Amy’s funeral, which was last month. This meant he must have been here, not in rehab, but how could he have gotten in? The last time Chloe had been here she could have sworn she locked all the doors and windows. What’s more, why would he leave this here?

Chloe turned the page to the actual pages for writing. To her surprise, the very first page was blank. Beside the first page were torn remains from the pages in front of it. Based on the thick bunch of tears, it appeared many pages were torn from the journal. Chloe leafed through the rest of the journal to check that she wasn't missing anything. All she found was blank page after blank page. As she reached the back cover, however, a loose journal page slid out from inside the back cover and drifted to the floor. Bracing herself, Chloe inhaled sharply and slowly bent over to reach it. Her lungs, knees, and back ached in protest, but she was determined to read whatever may be on the loose page.

Once she had it, she gradually righted herself and sank back on the bed behind her. Sure enough, there was a message in the same messy handwriting as before:

Amy,

What's it like up there? Seen grandma? I want to tell you I'm sorry I hurt you. Wish you were here so I could tell you in person. I see now what Harvey meant to you. So yeah I'm sorry. If you see grandma give her hell for me. Love you bunny-butt.

-Brandon

Chloe tried hard not to let her hands shake too much as she finished reading. Bunny-butt? Chloe was glad they hadn't been dating anymore. She read back over his words a second and third time, trying to make sense of them, ignoring the last sentence. What exactly had Brandon done that hurt Amy enough to warrant leaving this letter? Who is Harvey? She wished she had been in more contact with Amy the last couple years, then maybe she would know more about these people.

Chloe's oxygen tank beeped, and she pressed a button on the side to silence it, jolting her back to the present again.

Chloe fumbled around for her phone. She replied to her sister with, Yes. Be down shortly.

She shuffled across the room and paused at the door. She smiled fondly back at the room before heading downstairs. Opening the front door flooded the house with sunlight and a mild breeze. Chloe shielded her eyes as she stepped outside.

What she did not expect to see was a teenage boy with messy chestnut hair standing on the front lawn. He wore black tennis shoes, khaki pants, and a short-sleeve turquoise polo. In one hand was some kind of smartphone, and in the other a lead pipe covered in some kind of black liquid dangling by his side. When he saw Chloe, his eyes widened and his mouth formed a perfect O. He whipped his phone away and jammed it into his pocket.

"Uh...I'm sorry," he said as he spun on his heel and sprinted off down the street.

Chloe's eyes burned, and her hands started shaking again. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to chase after the boy, but her heart and lungs screamed for her to collapse and forget today. She felt tears well up in her eyes once more. Not because of the blinding sunlight, not because she had just emerged from her daughter's room, but because her eyes caught the name tag sticker he wore that his phone concealed before he pocketed it. The name tag read, "Hello, My Name Is Harvey."