7 • Funeral

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The leather of the couch feels cold under my fingertips. My feet are propped up on the small coffee table, banging together lightly in nervousness. Mom sits with me, our shoulders barely touching. It's only been twelve hours since I found Laura in the alley, and the police already want to put us into protective custody. I don't want to leave my childhood home, but there is nothing really tying me here anymore. Laura's gone, so why should I stay?


Officer Jenkins, the one I talked to yesterday, stands beside an FBI agent, who sits on the armchair across from us. He gives me pondering glances every now and then, making me feel like I'm being analyzed under a microscope.


A couple other officers from the station stand outside, guarding the door. I don't know why they even bother. It would be a blessing if my stalker busted down the door and murdered me. I feel empty without my best friend, and I just don't feel tied to my mom like I used to. She seems different, more distant as of late. It has me wondering what's going on with her. Does she know something about this that I don't?


"Melanie?"


Mom's broken voice pulls me out of my thoughts almost immediately. Guilt gathers in my gut as I think about how I should have told her. I should have listened to Laura and told Mom about all of this the moment it happened. Maybe Laura wouldn't be dead if I had.


"Ms. Larkin, we know you're distraught and have gone through a horrible ordeal, but we need you to focus right now. Your life is at stake," Officer Jenkins says firmly.


A wave of anger rolls off of my body. Without thinking, I stand and hiss, "Focus? You didn't seem too worried about me yesterday. If you would have done something then, then maybe Laura wouldn't be dead!"


Jenkins eyes avert from mine as he looks to the ground, feeling guilty. I shake my head, tears forming in my eyes. "You should have helped us yesterday. What kind of cop are you?"


"Melanie," Mom scolds from the couch. I don't pay any attention to her though, only to Jenkins, who's now looking up at me, his eyes reflecting pure calmness.


How can he be so passive about all of this? Am I just another one of his cases that will go away the moment he sends me to another town? Does he even care that my best friend is dead, and that he has a murderer on the loose?


"Ms. Larkin, please go pack your necessities. You're being transferred tonight," Jenkins says, getting up from the chair.


"No," I quickly say. "I can't leave yet!"


The FBI agent, Agent Callaway, looks at me with pity. "Why is that Ms. Larkin?"


I bite my lip. I need to figure out a way to stay a bit longer, to have time to say goodbye to my home. Laura pops into my mind again and I suddenly remember about her funeral, and how I was invited. "I just—I want to stay for Laura's funeral on Saturday. It will help me cope, I think."


Callaway looks to me in thought. I notice Jenkins' expression turn sour, like he had just swallowed a full lemon. I glance at Mom, who has had tears in her eyes for the past three hours we have sat here, reporting what has happened the past few weeks, for the FBI agent's sake more than Jenkins'.

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