Chapter Eight
Lilia sat perched on the arm of a worn leather chair, her mind still lingering on the conversation she had with Amelia. She could feel the weight of the others’ gazes on her, waiting for her to speak, but she wasn’t quite sure what to even say to them.
“Amelia told me something strange,” Lilia began, her voice low and hesitant. “Willow got a letter a few weeks before she disappeared. It was something that really spooked her—so much so that she took it to the police. She thought someone was trying to threaten her.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Who would threaten Willow?” Eleanor frowned.
“Who wouldn’t? That girl was a piece of fucking work,” Sebastian muttered, fixing his gaze on the index card. “This is useless, by the way. It’s probably just an Airbnb she was looking into.”
“But what if it isn’t?” Delilah asked. “It could be important. And we need to find that letter. It could be there.”
“It’s most likely with the police,” Eleanor pointed out.
“She probably threw it away.” Sebastian shrugged. “It was months ago. It could be anywhere.”
Augustus furrowed his brow. “Lilia, have you been back to the apartment since . . . ?”
Lilia stiffened. “No. Her parents most likely cleared all of her things out anyway. There’s no point.”
The quaint two-bedroom had once been a haven shared between Willow and Lilia; but now, all it held was memories. Willow was everywhere in their apartment, her laugh, her things—the faint scent of the perfume she wore. There was nothing left for Lilia there, so she had moved out shortly after her death was announced, living with her mother until her lease was finished.
“I doubt it,” Delilah interjected. “Mrs. Weber told my mom that Mrs. Montgomery hasn’t even touched Willow’s room at their house. She said it’s like she’s waiting for her to come back. It’s completely morbid.”
“She’s grieving,” Augustus said, understanding in his voice. “I can’t imagine losing a child.”
Sebastian flipped through one of Augustus’ books and frowned. “Grief does weird things to people. It distorts reality and messes with your head. Makes you cling to things you’d otherwise let go of. You hold on to memories, to places, even things that hurt because letting go feels like betraying them.”
The group turned to look at him.
“How high are you right now?” Delilah raised her brow.
He snorted. “Fuck you.”
Augustus shook his head, fighting a smile. “Anyway, we should take a look at her room.”
Lilia’s reaction was immediate and visceral, “I’m not going back there,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t.”
“And you won’t have to,” Augustus said gently, moving closer to her, smoothing down her hair. “Me and Sebastian will go, right?” He shot a pointed look at Sebastian.
“Right.” Sebastian nodded, his usual bravado tempered down with a rare seriousness.
“If we find anything, we’ll let you know,” Augustus continued. “You guys can stay here and try to figure out what Willow was doing in Cambridge.”
The front door to the apartment creaked open, the sound echoing throughout the silent hallway. Augustus and Sebastian exchanged a glance before stepping inside, their footsteps muted against the hardwood floor. The apartment was dark, the only light coming from the weak glow of their phone screen as they navigated the space.
Lilia had been meticulous in keeping the apartment clean, and her touch was evident in the sterile, almost clinical atmosphere. The white couch in the center of the living room looks untouched, the hung television reflecting the pale lights from their phones. It felt more like a showroom than a place where two young women had lived, but that was Lilia—always in control, always precise.
Willow, on the other hand, had been a force of chaos. The contrast between the two had been striking, and as Augustus and Sebastian made their way to her bedroom, the difference became far more apparent. The door to Willow’s bedroom was slightly ajar, as if she’d stepped out and would be back at any moment.
Augustus pushed the door open further, the hinges groaning in protest. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly shut, blocking out any light from the outside world. It was like stepping into a time capsule, frozen in the moment Willow had last been there. The bed was unmade, sheets tangled in a way that suggested she’d left in a hurry. A faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air, a floral note that clung to the fabric of the sheets.
“Look for anything that might be important,” Augustus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt wrong to talk too loudly here, in this space that had once been Willow’s sanctuary.
Sebastian nodded, already moving toward the bookshelf that lined one wall. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books, pausing occasionally to pull one out and flip through the pages. Augustus, meanwhile, moved toward the vanity. It was cluttered with makeup, brushes, and a few pieces of jewelry here and there, but nothing seemed out of place. He opened a drawer, finding it filled with more makeup, but there was one drawer that wouldn’t budge.
“Do you see a key anywhere?” Augustus asked, his frustration evident as he tugged at the stubborn drawer.
