ELAINE - PRESENT DAY

I pace back and forth in the Widener Library bathroom. The beige, lime scale covered tiles decorate the floors and the walls. The ceiling is covered with mould. For such an elitist college, they sure care little about the appearance of their bathrooms.

This is not where I want to talk, but I can't exactly bring Adora back to my dorm. My roommate, Amy, already thinks I'm hiding something. Showing up anywhere with Adora Arison could only drag me into the same mess she's in.

So we're meeting in the Library bathroom during a Saturday, because no one in their right mind is here on a Saturday. Also, I checked beforehand whether someone was inside.

While I wait, I stare at my own reflection. I look even worse than earlier today; I think I've managed to get even paler despite all the sunshine outside.

I'm squeezing the edge of the sink, my nails are digging into the ceramics, and my heart is loudly and obnoxiously beating inside my ribcage.

The bathroom door flings open, revealing Adora on the other side.

"Seriously? A bathroom?" Her black boots clank against the beige tiles as she walks closer to me. "What am I, a drug dealer? Goddamn, we could have had a cup of coffee."

"I-I thought you didn't want anyone to see us together." Words stumble out of my mouth.

The truth is, I'm freaking scared of Adora.

She crosses her hands on her chest and raises her eyebrow, "Or you didn't want anyone to see us together? I thought we agreed you wouldn't call me."

"I know, I know." I brush my hair behind my ear, feeling somewhat inadequate next to her.

That's the thing about Adora; there's always an aura of confidence around her, almost like she doesn't really care about anything.

"We can meet up on the parking lot behind a dumpster next time, that ought to be less suspicious." She glances in the mirror and finger-combs her pony-tail.

I bite my lower lip, not sure how to break down the news, not even sure why I thought I could share this with her. We aren't friends. We're just two people getting stuck in the same situation upon an unfortunate series of events.

"What happened?" She walks even closer, the hem of her black dress only slightly lifting with her steps.

"I need you to promise not to tell anyone." I bite my lower lip so hard I draw blood.

Adora raises her eyebrow, "My lips are sealed."

I let out a sigh, realising this will be the first time I'll say the words out loud. Panic runs through my veins. What am I going to do?

That's why I need Adora. She's a handler, she handles things. If she managed her father's company, she can manage my pregnancy, right?

"I'm pregnant." I squeeze out a whisper, afraid of the impact of the confession.

"Oof, that sucks." The annoyance disappears from her face. "Who's the father?"

I eye her, "Seriously?"

"What? I don't know you."

Pain emerges in the pit of my stomach and tears blur my vision, "It's... It's Graham. He's the only guy that ever..."

"I understand." She nods. "Why are you telling me this?"

Pain worsens and twists into nausea, "There's no one else I can talk to."

Adora takes in a deep breath, her gaze drops on the tiles, "Alright. Alright. How many pregnancy tests have you done?"

My eyes widen, "I should do more than one?"

"It could be a false positive." She shrugs. "When were you supposed to get your period?"

I did not expect such thorough questioning, "Five days ago."

"That's pretty early." Adora nods once again. "You should do a blood test, just to be sure."

Another wave of panic floods me, "I can't tell my mom, I can't-"

"Elaine, you're twenty years old, you don't need your mom to hold your hand."

Weirdly, her sentence is both saddening and comforting at the same time. I wish I could tell my mom, I wish she would hold my hand, but if I tell my mom, I'm acknowledging this as my reality.

Adora takes her phone out of her bag, "I'm going to send you my ob-gyn's phone number. She's in Boston and she'll examine you as soon as she can."

"Adora, there's no need, I can go somewhere else, I don't- I don't have the money for it."

She laughs, "My treat."

I don't think I'm capable of making that phone call.

"I can't..." I stutter. "How am I going to tell her?"

Adora lets out a sigh, "Elaine, once again, you're twenty, it's not a taboo, and she's a professional. I'll call her. You don't have to do anything."

Relief floods me.

I knew Adora was my best bet. She handles things. She can handle this for me.

"So, what are you going to do about your... situation?" Her gaze slides over my belly and I instinctively want to cover myself.

"I- I haven't thought about it." Tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes. "It's too much, this is too much. What am I supposed to do? He's dead! I can't have this baby! I want to go to Med School and have a life and a job-"

"Alright, I get it." Adora cuts in. "My ob-gyn can handle that part, too."

She's treating this like it's nothing, like it's just a bump in the road I need to cross and continue my journey. In a strange way, I feel like she's discrediting my pain.

"How can you be so casual about it?" Tears fall down my cheeks. "You're treating this like it's not even a big deal!"

Adora raises her gaze from her phone, "Would you rather I treat it like it is a big deal?"

"It would be nice if you acknowledged it for the problem it is!"

"Oh, my God!" Adora covers her mouth with her palm. "Elaine... that's, that's terrible. What are you going to do? You're pregnant and the baby daddy is dead! This is the worst situation in the world. If you keep the baby, you'll ruin your life, and if you, God forbid, abort the baby, you'll never calm your conscience!"

Panic churns in my gut, almost making me throw up. Bile rises to my throat. I grip the edge of the sink and lean over, afraid I'll throw up.

I blubber out loud, tears and snot running down my face, "You're a bitch!"

Adora's concerned expression fades, "See? It's better if you treat it like it's not a big deal. These things happen. Accept it, deal with it and move on."

The upturning in my stomach eases a little, "I shouldn't have called you."

"Feel free to not call me the next time." Adora puts her phone back in her black purse. "Have you talked to the police?"

I shake my head, "I'm about to after this. Have you?"

"Yes." Adora leans against the sink and hands me a tissue, which I use to wipe the snot off my face. "Nothing spectacular. They asked whether someone left the party at some point."

"Do they suspect someone?"

"No. As far as I can tell." Adora breathes out. "Graham died at 2AM. We were all downstairs dancing at the time. They're still pretty certain it's a suicide."

"Why are they questioning us, then?" I take a few deep breaths, my heartbeat eases.

Our eyes meet. For a second, the conversation transcends words, but I'm too scared to decipher the meaning.

"They just want to talk to anyone who knew Graham, to see if he was depressed or something." Adora's voice slightly drops.

"Do you think it'll pass?" I whisper.

"I'm not sure." She sighs. "Graham's parents aren't just going to give up, especially if they think their son would never kill himself."

I step away from the sink, "I have to go talk to the cops. Thanks for the number."

"No problem." She lingers behind.

"Adora?" I turn around before I leave. "About the poster... No one really thinks it's you. TikTok just went wild, the way it usually does."

She offers a thin smile, "I'm not worried. There's a number of people confirming I was downstairs dancing at the time of Graham's death."

Our eyes meet once more. The silence conversation continues, but I cut it short and open the bathroom door, ready to leave.

"Hey, Elaine." A small smile lifts Adora's lips. "You look like a bereaved widow."

I slam the door shut and head down the hallway, but I don't get far.

Two cops are walking my way, a man and a woman, both looking eerily similar. They're both tall and short-haired, with stern, serious expressions gripping their faces.

The woman's facial lines are gentler, her eyes are bright green and narrow, almost like she's trying to force suspects into submission. The man, although older and more wrinkled, looks warmer, with a more relaxed glint in his deep, brown eyes.

They're both dressed in business attire, not uniforms, but I can tell they're cops. It's apparent in the way they walk; like they're higher and mightier than common peasants.

My breath gets stuck in my throat.

"Elaine Jenkin?" The woman takes out her badge, her partner follows. "Detectives Davis and Campbell, we're here to talk about Graham Koch."

My breath hitches and tears form in my eyes. The only reason I'm not breaking down completely is the high dosage of Zoloft I'm on.

All I manage is a pathetic, "Go ahead."

Detective Davis offers a small, comforting smile, "Elaine, we've gone through Graham's phone."

They should have gone through his computer. That's where he kept everything.

"I thought you would." I smile back, forcing myself to stay calm. "I assume you know everything?"

They know nothing.

"Were you and Graham seeing each other?" Detective Davis plays the good cop, while the woman's gaze simply cuts through me, reading my nonverbal signs.

I lean against the wall, "It was new. Two or three weeks."

The words cause a wave of pain, starting in my temples and spreading to my stomach.

"Did he ever say anything that might explain what happened to him?" Detective Davis asks.

He reminds me of my dad; gentle, kind and wise. His partner reminds me of a vicious animal, ready to bite through flesh and bones to uncover the truth.

"No." I shake my head and swallow the lump in my throat. "Graham mostly kept to himself and I didn't prod, because, well, we weren't even serious yet."

His name feels like acid on my tongue.

I swallow the taste and force myself to continue, "I wish I asked more. I wish I could have done something, prevented it... I just can't believe he'd do something like that. There were no signs... I just-"

"It's okay." Detective Davis says gently. "We understand."

"Where were you at 2AM last night?" Detective Campbell isn't keen on being nice.

My eyes widen, "At Graham's party... he invited me, but I didn't even see him."

"Did you try searching for him at the rooftop?" Detective Campbell asks.

I nod hastily, "The door was locked. I couldn't get there."

"Alright, Elaine." Detective Davis glances at his partner. "That's all the questions we have for now."

Detective Campbell cuts him off, "Can anyone confirm you were downstairs at 2AM?"

I nod again, "Lots of people saw me. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"We'll contact you if we need anything else." Detective Davis says.

I bite my lower lip, "Do you really think he... killed himself?"

"We can't comment on it at the moment." Detective Campbell's narrowed gaze doesn't relax. "We'll be in touch." She walks away.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Elaine." Detective Davis offers a gentle smile and follows his partner.

Cold sweat washes over me the moment they leave.

I briefly wonder whether Graham erased everything from his computer. If he didn't, I'll be talking to these detectives again and the conversation will be very, very different.

I return to where I came from and glimpse strands of long black hair disappearing behind the corner. No one walked by during the conversation. The hall was empty when I left the bathroom. A frown distorts my face.

Has someone been eavesdropping?