(#1) Roommates by Day, Enemies by Night

Chapter 45

I'm surrounded by idiots.~ Scar, The Lion King

Dedication: To pathways_end, who is a fantastic writer and maker of covers on Wattpad. Her books are truly something different. Thank you!

Siena

I like secrets. Many people would say secrets are a bad thing to keep. They hurt you, and the people around you. That just depends on what type of secret it is, and how good/bad you are at keeping it under wraps.

I've always been a good liar, and good at keeping secrets. I can tell little white lies in passing, I can concoct an elaborate lie any time of the day. Dylan was always much worse of a liar than I was. Being as guarded as I was, for me it was always just a matter of time until I found out something about somebody but they usually didn't find out much about me. I didn't loosen up, I wasn't very carefree around people except my friends.

Walking through the city of New York at midnight is usually not a great idea, or even a remotely good one. However, I was staying close to shadows on the rooftop, my body obscured by the darkness.

After watching Shreya's video, in which she had chosen me to help her, I was going back to her apartment. I hadn't even checked the whole place, just noticed the oddity that the plants had. If Shreya really did have superpowers, the police wouldn't have found anything; she would have hidden it too well.

Going into her apartment, I generated a spark and tossed it up into the power box, causing the lights to flicker on softly and bathe the room in a soft, golden glow. I looked around, and saw evidence that the police had been here. Everything was shifted slightly, as if people had been moving around, trying not to disturb it, but unfortunately, they had. I ducked into Shreya's bedroom.

Her room seemed standard enough, with a simple bed, made neatly, and frames on the two bedside desks she had. In one was her with a man about her age, and they were standing on the edge of a cliff, which I recognized as one near the Grand Canyon. This must have been her twin brother. I picked up the frame and ran a hand over it, feeling more guilt stab through my chest. She had a family, friends, people who cared about her deeply and who couldn't wait to see her again. And I had ripped her away from them. Someone had, and more and more, it was looking like I was the one who had killed her.

I set the frame down and paced around the room. The weren't many pictures, or token mementos. The only one besides Shreya and her brother was of her and another woman, standing side by side.

I opened the closet to her room, and found it stuffed with clothes tossed haphazardly. Well, now we knew cleaning wasn't an actual strength of hers. I dug through the closest, the clothes flying all directions, but found nothing.

I thought about it. Shreya was meticulous, except for her clothes. Everything about this project had been geared towards a certain group of people, the supers. So, she wouldn't leave it out for just anyone do see. She would want to put it in a location only certain people could see it.

Just then, the sound of a lock turning in the door reached my ears. Dropping all the clothes I had bunched in my hands, I stepped into the shadows and drew the darkness around me, hiding me from sight.

A man shut the door behind him and walked through the apartment, quickly reaching Shreya's room. My hands were already fired up with my powers before I caught a look from his face. It was Shreya's brother, whom was very tall, and at least a good foot taller than her. And once I saw his face, I almost wished I didn't.

His face was covered in stubble, indicating that he hadn't shaved for a long period of time. His face was sunken, and long, as if sadness had become permanently etched onto it. His eyes were sunk deep within his skin, and were bloodshot and pained. This was the kind of bloodshot I saw that came with crying too hard, for too long. Shreya had her funeral today. Or tomorrow, depending on the time.