"Ma'am," Officer Sam said. "Are you sure there was a man in here?"

Bee's evening kept getting worse. After she'd made calls for help, to Grace and the cops, she shimmied out of her outfit, washed her face and hair, and thought she'd close her eyes for a minute. When she unintentionally woke up, any trace of the stranger vanished.

Bee stifled a scream. "He was here."

"Uh-huh," the officer scratched his thick mustache. "There was no sign of a break in—"

"He had a key."

"Did you give it to him?"

"No."

"Did you give it to him and forget?"

Bee grit her teeth. "No." 

"And you said he showered?"

"He did." When Bee got to the bottom stairs, the bathroom smelled faintly of soap and mint. It was dry and somehow clean than when Bee had left it.

"But there are no traces of another person and you've been drinking."

"She's not drunk," Grace, Bee's best friend said. "And drinking is not a crime."

Bee flushed in embarrassment.

"Miss Kwan," officer Sam said in an exasperated tone. "Were you present during the...break in."

Grace rolled her eyes. "No."

"Right," officer Sam adjusted the belt around his waist.

They're so damn efficient, Zach's words floated in Bee's head.

He was real. He rubbed her back and held her hair and had this butterscotch voice. He. Was. Real.

Wasn't he?

As soon as the officer left, Grace gave her a hug and Bee sank into her friend's skinny arms. She spilled the beans on the events of the horrible day. The takeout Chinese Grace swiped from their family-owned restaurant café was lukewarm, but Bee didn't have the heart to get up from the couch.

"Honestly," Graces bit into a stick of grilled tofu. "Good on you."

Bee dipped a dumpling in chili oil. "Good I had a creep?"

Grace shook her head. "Nah. You're on the market. Jared is such an asshole."

Grace and Jared never got along since their miserable attempt to double date.

"He's not once you get to know him."

Grace sneered. "He asked why I was white."

Bee cringed. "He...didn't mean it that way."

"Like fuck," Grace pointed chopsticks at her. "He didn't mean it when he told you to lose weight, too?"

Bee shrugged. "I was chubby."

Grace continued to chew while running her fingers along the screen of her phone. "I have a guy or two whose single and free to mingle."

"Here we go," Bee mumbled.

Back in high school Grace was known for meddling. She got everyone in their friend group decent dates to prom and bagged the boyfriend of her dreams. Grace's meddling, for the most part, was harmless. Except on one occasion when a potential couple were texting Grace for advice on what to say to the other person. Grace ended up having a conversation with herself.

"Or girls! If you wanna experiment, I got you."

"No," Bee groaned. "I need time."

Grace nodded. "Rebound sex."

Bee sighed.

"Ooh, I almost forgot." Grace padded in her white socks to the kitchen counter. Time and time again, Bee told her leaving her shoes by the door necessary and Grace brushed her off.

"Happy birthday," Grace pushed a red box with a matching ribbon into her hands.

"Aww," Bee said unwrapping the present. Inside was a bag of tapioca, a bar of dark chocolate with orange zest and a yellow ticket.

"Oh my god," Bee said.

"Yeah, busy Bee." Grace said. "We're going to see Breaking Hearts live!"

Bee grinned at her then the grin faltered. "Gracie, you do believe me. Right?"

Grace shrugged.

But before she could say anything, Bee's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi," a gravelly voice said. "This is Henry Patel from Daisy Ridge. Is this Miss Brianna Miller?"

Bee's heart sank. "Yeah? Is granddad okay?"

Henry paused. "He had a difficult start to the evening. A visitor came by and he seemed distraught after the visit."

"Who was the visitor?" Bee asked yet somehow knew.

"He signed his name as Zachrey Miller in the register."

Grace was giving her thumbs up then thumps down. Code for okay or not, okay?

"I'm on my way." Bee said already grabbing her bag.

***

Daisy Ridge stood proud amongst cedars and tons of grass. It had recreational outlets and held bingo tournaments. Their staff knew their shit and catered to food preferences. The nursing home had been Bee's last resort after her grandad got lost twice and Bee almost lost her mind until she found him in his pinstriped pajamas on the neighbor's swing. Bee's college tuition fee went into Daisy ridge. Bee's father refused to shell out for either a home or a nurse and Bee's mom couldn't care less about her ex-father-in-law.

"Five minutes," Bee said. "Pretty please."

Since she'd left her car at Jared's, Bee took two buses and the subway. She missed visiting hours and all she had going for her was desperation.

"Dear," the nurse in charge said. "He'll sleep in a bit."

"Five minutes. I promise. It's my birthday and it would mean the world to see him."

The nurse surprised her by nodding. "Go on. Just five, dear."

Bee smiled. She knew the way to granddad's room like the back of her hand.

"Hey," Bee said brightly. "How are we tonight?"

Bee's grandfather sat glued to the screen of his TV. Friends was on, the deep green eyes Bee inherited blinked at her greeting.

"Who are you?"

Bee kept her smile on. There were good and bad days. She learned not to let the awful ones bring her down. These too, were memories in the making. Even if they reeked of disinfectant and chlorine. 

"I am a friend." Bee took a seat. "Are Ross and Rachel on a break?"

The old man nodded. "The idiot understands only dinosaurs."

Bee laughed.

They watched the episode in companiable silence broken by chuckles. Bee's smartwatch showed her she overstayed beyond the promised five minutes.

"I gotta...are you okay?"

Tears ran down granddad's wrinkled cheeks.

"It's okay," Bee said. "You're okay."

"We didn't mean it." Granddad sobbed.

"I know." Bee went along. It was the nature of the disease eating at his mind. He got upset about stuff that happened decades ago. To him, it was yesterday and pointing out the massive gap in time made him feel worse.

"Zach didn't deserve it."

Bee's crushed the napkin in her palm. "The guy who came today?"

Michael Miller licked his lips. "We didn't mean it."

Who's we? Mean what? When?

Bee decided to narrow down the questions. "Who is this guy?"

"Time's up," the nurse stood in the doorway.

"Y-yeah. Um. I have to go."

Michael Miller grabbed his granddaughter's wrist. "You have to help him. You have to help that boy."

Bee marveled at the strength of his grip. "What do I do?"

Michael's expression turned wistful. "You have to kill him."