Mia. My sister. It’s her voice. What the hell?
“Jen! Jen, come here!” I’m not going crazy. I’m not going crazy. I’m not crazy. I keep on repeating those words as I step in the direction of her voice.
There are steps behind me. I look back but I don’t see anyone. Mia’s voice is closer. My heart thumps faster and faster. “Time to die, Jen,” Mia’s voice whispers.
I want to scream, but a hand shoves a tissue in my mouth and something on my nose.
And my steps become uncoordinated.
And my breathing shallows, and my hands clamp up and the world turns.
And then, nothing.
CHAPTER 49 – LUCAS
Everything was going too well. I should have known better.
Alisha’s call has me worried, like a feeling running deep that something is wrong. “Alisha, calm down. What do you mean she didn’t come to the rehearsal? She’s never missed a rehearsal. Igor told me that once she came to rehearse at four in the morning before everyone. She was burning hot and didn’t want to infect anybody, but still wanted to rehearse. And I thought you guys didn’t have any rehearsals today, we’re supposed to shoot in an hour.”
“Audrey texted us that Igor wanted one extra rehearsal today. It was supposed to be from ten this morning to twelve, so then she still had enough time to meet you guys at two. But she didn’t come.”
“She had a meeting with Grégoire this morning. She was meeting him for breakfast. Let me call him. Maybe they’re still together.”
“Call me back, okay?”
I walk to Jen’s kitchen. I didn’t find anything to bake cookies, but I thought I’d order some food online and have them delivered so I could surprise her with warm cookies when she got back. Even though her apartment is not much decorated, she can be seen in the tulips standing in a vase by her small window.
I dial Grégoire’s work number but he doesn’t pick up, so I try his personal cell. “You’re up early,” he says and he almost sounds happy to hear my voice.
“Is Jen still with you?” I ask.
“Why would Jen be with me?” His voice is genuinely confused and a chill runs down my spine.
“Because you guys were having breakfast to discuss opportunities for her talking about her episode with drugs.”
“Hmmm, we do need to talk about it, but I wasn’t going to meet her this morning. I thought I’d bring it up when we all meet this afternoon.”
“Where is your work phone? Why didn’t you pick up?”
“I lost it last night.”
This time, the chills running down my spine turn icy cold. “I have to call you back.”
***
After calling the police, and mentioning the fact that someone must have impersonated Grégoire, I got Alisha up to speed. The police got her old cell phone from Grégoire and mentioned due to the amount of death threats she received, they would take this seriously. They questioned Grégoire for several hours, since apparently his work phone was also used to make death threats to Jen. He denies it and I can’t believe it either.
The band met up at Steve’s apartment since he’s the closest to the police station. Alisha’s already there. It actually looks like she’s been spending a few days there.
We talk in circles that don’t bring any answers, and my patience is running thin.
“Where could she be? She doesn’t know anyone else in Paris!” My voice rises and the rest of the group turns my way. Olivia tilts her head to the side and then stands up to sit by me. She’s not crowding me but simply whispers.
“I’m sure everything is going to be okay. They’ll find her.”
I want to scream. I want to break everything. The police asked if maybe she had talked about leaving, about feeling too much pressure. She didn’t. And she wouldn’t disappear like this knowing what it would do to her friends, to me, to her parents. Her show is in two weeks, and the video should release next week. The final days of shooting were this week. Her parents got tickets to come visit her. “Oh wait, didn’t she mention that her mom had a friend in Paris, a designer?”
Alisha shakes slightly and Steve wraps an arm around her. “I can’t recall her name and she went there once for dinner, but that’s it.”
Dimitri paces around the room. “Still, why don’t you see with her parents who that friend is?”
Alisha whimpers but then squares her shoulder like having something to do to help, anything, is giving her a purpose. “I’ll get her parents’ phone number from Igor, but I’m worried, Lucas. I’m really worried.”
She stands up and we hug. Steve follows her. “I’ll walk Alisha to the door downstairs, I’ll be right back.”
I bury my head in my hands. My heart hammers loudly. It resonates everywhere like a bad song. It can’t be the same. It won’t be the same.
The phone call from Olivia freaking out about Benji’s whereabouts, saying he was sad and depressed. The search. The body at the rave. His dead body.
I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her too.
CHAPTER 50 - JEN
My limbs are freezing. It’s cold. So cold in this room. Like there hasn’t been any heating in months. The musty smell infiltrates everything. The mask on my face doesn’t move, and all I can distinguish through it is that there are lights in another room. The door must be open—I could try to wobble on my feet and then run.
“Jen. Jen, I love you!” Mia’s voice stops me, freezes me. “Jen!” I want to throw my hands on my ears, but they’re tight behind my back. “I’m dead now, I’m dead.” She sings songs now and I want to yell, I want to tell whoever is doing this to stop, to leave my sister alone.
The lump in my throat tightens. My mind is fuzzy and foggy. Not sure if it’s because of the chloroform or because of the fact I haven’t eaten anything in…how long have I been here?
I was going to meet Grégoire. I was going to meet Grégoire to talk about my interviews. I only stepped into that side street because I heard Mia’s voice. Mia. Oh my God, what’s going on?
A door screeches open. My heart beats faster. It gallops in my chest.
The steps etch closer.
“Don’t worry, not much more time…”
CHAPTER 51 - LUCAS
The night passed by way too slowly. Jen has disappeared for almost twenty-four hours, and the police are still investigating.
For once, I’m grateful for everyone following my whereabouts. It helps the police clear me quickly and someone recalls seeing Jen stepping into an RER that goes toward the north of Paris. She was smiling. She didn’t seem distraught. I don’t get it.
Jen’s parents took a redeye to Paris and are arriving at Charles de Gaulle in less than an hour, and we have nothing. Nothing more. “Did you tell them they could stay with me? Your dad is trying to come back from his explorations in Greece as soon as possible. He’s sorry he can’t be there.” Mom looks like she hasn’t slept since I called her with the news. She’s never met Jen, but she said every single time I talked about her, I sounded happy. Genuinely happy.
“I did tell them,” I reply with a quick hug. “I also sent a driver to pick them up and bring them to the station.”
“I can’t even imagine.” Mom hugs me again, this time tighter, as if she doesn’t want to let me go. “I don’t want to imagine.” She kisses my cheek and then nods. “Bonjour, Olivia.” She smiles, and for once it’s not one of those you-broke-my-son’s-heart smiles, so there’s progress.
But there’s no progress on the investigation. They got her phone calls but are trying to access her text messages.
Olivia sits next to me. “Any news?”
“Nothing.”
She stares straight ahead. “Her parents. I don’t know how they’re going to feel.” She stands back up. “I have to do something, anything. I’ll get more pictures on social media and might see if we can set up a phone center. To get tips or anything that can help.”
I squeeze her hand. “Thank you so much.�
��
“Of course! I’m so sorry.” She stands up and grabs her phone, before heading out.
“Olivia has been useful,” Mom says with a snide tone, and then she shakes her head. “I should be quiet, I’m sorry.”
Inspector Roger enters the room. “Jen’s parents are here. We’ll talk to them first, but maybe you’d like to bring them to their hotel afterwards. They look…” His face is drawn and pale as if even though he sees this type of shit every day, he’s not used to it, as if he never wants to get used to it. “They look like they will need support.”
And he was right.
Jen’s mom is crying while her father holds on to his wife like she’s the only one who makes sense. When we meet them in the hallway of the station, Jen’s mom tries to stop her tears.
“She sounded happy. She sounded like she wasn’t afraid to be herself…Jen used to close up so easily, to put up a front. I know she’s learned it from me…when Mia got sick, I couldn’t deal.” She sniffles, and Mom stands up and opens her arms.
“We’re doing everything we can,” she whispers in her ear while Jen’s father stares at me with wide eyes.
“We can’t lose her too.” His voice breaks. This big man who looks like he could be the son of Muhammad Ali and Klitschko is about to cry. He pulls out a picture from his pocket. “That’s our Jen, right there. When she wasn’t dancing, she was taking pictures, or finding ways to look at the events unfolding in front of her in a different way. We have to find her.”
“We will.”
The police come back with frowns on their faces. “We need to talk to you again, quickly.”
“Can’t you say it right here?” Jen’s dad sounds angry now and then he glances down. “I’m sorry, it’s not about you, it’s just…my baby girl.”
“We’ll talk to all of you, but in the room on the right—let’s not do this in the middle of the station.”
And we follow him, Mom holding Jen’s mom’s hand and me walking side by side with her father.
“We brought the dog to Jen’s apartment and he found something.”
“What?”
“Three grams of heroin behind the drawing I assume her sister made for her.”
Jen’s mom stands up. “No, no, no, no, no.” She sits back down and her husband pulls her to him. “That can’t be. She hasn’t touched drugs since that one summer years ago, it cannot be.” She turns me. “You believe me, right? She’d never do that to her sister. She’d never do it to herself. She worked so hard on herself, she worked so hard for everything.”
“I know.” And I do. It doesn’t make any sense.
Nothing makes sense.
***
The rest of the day is a blur. Jen’s parents decide to stay in a hotel but accept Mom’s invitation to come over for dinner. They’re both tired and devastated and they clutch one another.
“Jen was always amazing at ballet, and maybe I pushed her too hard.” Her mom has tears in her voice. “But then I thought if I don’t push her, she might resent me later. She might resent me for not nurturing her talent.”
“She loves dancing.” I push my food around my plate, unable to eat anything. “She told me how much she loves dancing. She said that dancing helps her, has helped her—even when it was hard, even when people yelled at her, she loves it.”
“She does, right?” Her mom looks at me with gratitude in her eyes and then, she pulls her hair up and my breath catches in my throat. I have to glance away before I make Jen’s mom uncomfortable for staring. They have the same way of dealing with stress. “When she steps on stage, she’s transformed, she’s in the moment, she forgets everything that’s not dancing.” She sniffles and Mom covers her hand with hers.
There’s a kinship between the two of them. Maybe it’s because when we lost Benji, Mom felt like she lost another son. Or maybe because Mom sees how much I’m hurting.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us? My husband will be back tomorrow. He’s flying back from an archeology trip in Greece and with the strikes, he couldn’t make it back yet.”
Jen’s parents shake their heads. “We took a hotel right next to the police station. We want to be there in a heartbeat if they call.”
“I understand,” Mom replies and then it’s time to leave, time to go back to my empty apartment, because I can’t stay home either. I want to be in the city, I want to be close by if something does come up. When they find her.
Because they will find her.
CHAPTER 52 - JEN
No one will ever find me. That voice. It can’t be Mia. They must use some sort of system to alter their voice. I force myself to breathe steadily through my nose. Whoever holds me captive is now gone. And if they’re acting alone, then maybe I have a window of opportunity. One thing about being a ballerina is that I am not only flexible but I’m also strong, stronger than I look. I rock from side to side, trying to find some place to cut my ties.
There’s nothing.
Nothing at all.
But I’ll keep trying.
CHAPTER 53 – LUCAS
My mind can’t stop running in circles, thinking about possibilities and how the police asked if I had received any threats. I can’t remember anything. My doorbell rings and I rush to answer, hoping against all hope that it’s Jen—simply swinging back into our lives like nothing has happened.
“It’s me,” Olivia says. “I thought you might want some company.”
I don’t.
I really don’t. But I also don’t want to send her back on her way without at least thanking her for everything she’s been doing. She’s been such a rock. So much stronger than I thought she could be. And for the second time in a short while, I can picture us actually being friends. I want her to be happy.
“Thanks. Come on up.” I buzz her in.
“I brought you a kebab—I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten anything today, and it’s from your favorite place.” My stomach growls at the smell. I haven’t eaten my dinner and my lunch was made of two bites of my Panini.
“You know me,” I tell her with a small smile, a smile that’s probably a shadow of the last real one I had with Jen. In her apartment. Watching Parks & Rec. In her bed. After making love. My throat tightens and Olivia takes my hand in hers. It’s comforting. “I am really grateful for everything you’ve done.” My voice is gruff, but she tilts her head to the side.
“Let me find something on TV, and why don’t you come and sit on the couch to eat your kebab. You have to relax. You have to sleep. You have to be one hundred percent there if you want to help find Jen.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. So I let myself be guided to the couch, and she puts on France 2 on the TV, where the first movie of the evening is about to start. It’s an older movie, a funny one about a group of people finding themselves on holiday together. I bite into the kebab and even though it’s hard to eat, even though I don’t feel like having the company, I can’t deny this is exactly what I needed.
Olivia nestles next to me, tucking her feet under herself like she used to do, trailing her fingers down my arm like she used to do, and then leaning against my shoulder once I’m done eating like she used to do.
Except I’m not time traveling. This is not the reincarnation of our past relationship and even though I’m grateful for everything she’s done, I can’t blur the lines.
I slide a bit to the right, carefully to not hurt her feelings.
She doesn’t get the memo and slides back next to me. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”
“What?” Playing dumb might be the best solution right now because I don’t have the strength to face whatever she’s talking about. She has to know this isn’t going to work. Shit, I’m worried about another woman while she’s trying to rekindle our long gone past.
“Us.” She rises and her lips touch my neck, my cheek.
I breathe out and stand up, putting more distance between us, physically and f
iguratively. “There is no us,” I say as gently as possible. I’ve come a long way in the past month to finally put that “us” behind me, where it belongs. I’ve forgiven her and accepted that we were simply not meant to be, that she didn’t try to hurt me, that she cared.
“Of course there is,” she whispers and slowly stands up. She licks her lips and the way she moves reminds me of other times. Of that past I no longer want to live in.
“There’s not, Olivia. You know there’s not.”
And when she throws her arms around me, I push her back. She plops back down on the couch. Confusion etches across her face in the way her eyes widen, in the way her mouth gapes.
“We’re over,” I explain and I’m taken aback by the way she acted. After pretending to be so worried about Jen. “No matter what, we’re over.”
“It’s that little bitch, isn’t it?”
And this time when she stands up, confusion has been replaced with hatred and anger and I’m not sure what’s going on. “You think she loves you? You think she even fucking cares about you?” Olivia paces around me. “Do you have any idea of how much I’ve done for you?”
And my breathing stops for a second. Because this can’t be true. This can’t be. She’s Olivia—she’s my first love, the one who laughed with me and cried with me for years, the one who was there for me and Benji.
“I get it, you’re scared. You’re scared about your love for me. You’re scared of what people would think.” She rambles and then stops and stares at me. “Benji couldn’t get between us; I won’t let her get between us either.”
“Benji?” Blood freezes in my veins, everything stops and I need to sit down. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you really believed me when I told you Benji and I had nothing going on. I had to keep myself busy while you were becoming famous. Benji was there.” There’s no emotion in her voice. There’s no emotion whatsoever. This can’t be Olivia, there must be a mistake.
Love in B Minor Page 20
