The town buzzed with the news of Thomas' murder. It was as if they had shaken the entire community to its core. The police worked tirelessly to find the killer but have had no leads. Meanwhile, the brothers couldn't help but feel a sense of thrill and excitement.

Anger boiled inside me as I gripped the list of names tightly. Each step I took was a silent vow for revenge. Walking to school, I locked eyes with Hazell, my challenge clear. "What's your end game?" I asked calmly, my clenched fists betraying the turmoil inside.

Hazell's calm response didn't fool me. "Maybe I'm doing it to impress someone," he said. I rolled my eyes; there was more to it, something darker and more twisted.

I didn't know who Peterson James was or why he was targeted, but I wasn't about to let Hazell win easily. A slight smirk tugged at my lips; the outcome of this battle was up to me.

Hazell's grin faded as my words sank in. "I know, Ez. I'm not taking this lightly either."

I scoffed, lost in my thoughts. "You feel sorry?"

Walking into school, the atmosphere was somber. The hallways whispered with secrets. The cheerleaders needed a new member, and the football team needed a star player. Tension hung in the air, making both of us uneasy.

Ms. Johnson's announcement about discussing the murders in class increased the mood. As we debated motives and suspects, I squirmed in my seat, adjusting my tie and avoiding looking at Ms. Hale.

I couldn't help but notice a small plastic cat sitting on a shelf, seemingly asleep. My gaze lingered on it as I studied the details.

The room, painted in calming pastels, offered a brief respite. The only sound was Ms. Hale's voice from her desk. I felt cocoon-wrapped, fidgeting uncomfortably as I took in the room's details—the certificates on the walls, the cat-shaped clock ticking away, the medical books neatly arranged. Ms. Hale's graceful demeanor contrasted with my restlessness as I shifted.

I sighed before speaking up again, searching the room for inspiration.

"I wish things hadn't turned so ugly," I murmured almost to myself, "but stopping it from happening again feels out of reach."

I turned my head slowly, meeting Ms. Hale's gaze. My stomach churned as I saw her familiar face, now marred by brutality. I tried to push the image aside, focusing on her words.

"We should care for those close to us," she said gently, "and strive to make each moment happy." Another sigh escaped me before I responded.

"You're right," I said quietly. At that moment, I knew I couldn't solve my problems within those four walls. Something deeper was needed. I stood up, and Ms. Hale offered a list of professionals to help my parents. There was nothing left for me there.

A somber crowd gathered at Thomas' locker, leaving offerings in his memory. I moved among them, placing a framed photo of our group with trembling hands.

I noticed a girl leaving a white rose under the locker. Fresh petals contrasted starkly with the crimson ones already there. I tried to catch her eye, but she quickly turned away and disappeared down the hall.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" a voice sounded behind me. I turned to see Liza, a smirk on her face. "You're so oblivious. She likes you, you know."

Before I could respond, the girl was gone. A lump formed in my throat as Ms. Hale's warning echoed. I stared into space for a moment, gathering my determination. "I know," I whispered to myself.

My heart sank as I turned to my left and spotted Kimberly Daily, the greaser student, being confronted by a group of jocks. After much anxious debate, I decided to intervene without hesitation, secretly hoping my brother wasn't nearby, observing the scene.

A surge of anger and concern for Kimberly welled within me, but I took a deep breath and positioned myself between Kimberly and the aggressive group of guys. Unexpectedly, Liza appeared and forcefully shoved one boy against a locker.

"Hey, back off!" she declared, her voice resolute and unyielding. My heart raced, but I stood my ground, determined not to show any signs of intimidation.

One jock, a burly guy with a cocky smirk, took a step forward. "What's your problem?" he sneered.

I took a moment to steady myself, trying not to show the anxiety boiling inside me. "She said, back off."

Tension hung thick in the air as the jocks exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to proceed. Encouraged by my presence, Kimberly spoke up. "Yeah, you heard him. Just leave Kimberly alone."

Just then, Mr. Gaye turned the corner, his eyes locking onto the impending altercation. He approached swiftly. "Break it up!" he shouted. The jocks begrudgingly dispersed, leaving Kimberly and Liza under my protection. Mr. Gaye then headed down the hallway with the jocks, narrowing the distance between us.

"Thanks," Kimberly said. "But next time, let me handle those idiots myself."

"Sure, Kim. I'll gladly watch you give those jerks an ass-whoop," Liza muttered.

Kimberly retrieved a cigarette, lit it, and took a puff. "Thanks, Liz," she said, giving her a pat on the back. She slung her bag over her shoulder, then walked away, exhaling smoke as she went.

"What a bitch," Liza muttered, her irritation palpable, before she turned and marched off in the opposite direction, leaving me alone in the middle of the school hallway.

∆∆∆

Hazell, and I walked along a quiet country road. While he hummed a tune, I trailed behind, lost in my thoughts and worries.

"You know," Hazell began, a hint of mischief in his voice, "things are about to get a lot more interesting."

I let out a sarcastic sigh. "More interesting than they already are?"

Hazell moved ahead excitedly, and I followed him. He knelt beside something hidden in the bushes, and curiosity surprised me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the body lying face-down on the ground.

"And speak of the devil," Hazell's voice had a sinister edge, "Come closer, Ez." I cautiously approached, realizing that the body hadn't been there long. Hazell prodded it with a stick, turning its head to face us.

"If it's someone we know," Hazell's words were laced with unease, "I hope it's not one from my list..."

Fear crept over me, and I whispered, "Leave it alone." Hazell looked up at me and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Why is it so touchy?" he asked. I swallowed hard and replied, "We need to go. We weren't prepared for this, and we shouldn't leave any evidence that could point to us for something we didn't do." With that, I turned and walked away from the scene, trying not to think about what lay hidden under the shrubs.

∆∆∆

I stepped back, startled by the voice calling from behind the counter. It was then that the store proprietor, Claire Donovan, emerged. Her hair draped around her face like a veil, and a warm smile stretched effortlessly across her lips. My breath caught in my throat as I noticed her name tag, which read, "HI, MY NAME IS CLAIRE DONOVAN." Memories from school flooded my mind, and it finally clicked why she seemed so familiar – she was the one who had left a white rose in Thomas' locker.

Nervously, I cleared my throat, unable to take my eyes off her captivating beauty. "You're from school," I stammered, surprise clear in my wide eyes. "I saw you leaving something at Thomas' locker. Were you two close?" Her smile vanished as quickly as a gust of wind extinguishing a candle flame, and she averted her gaze, her sadness seeming to stretch on forever.

The abrupt change in her demeanor caught me off guard, and I stood there silently, one hand tightly gripping my pocket. Just as I was about to apologize, Claire spoke up.

I watched as she fought back her emotions before whispering an apology for leaving the rose as a sign of respect for their friendship. "I'm sorry," she added softly. "I'm sure he would be grateful."

I nodded meekly, then turned away from her gaze, heading for the exit. All I wanted was to go home and forget about this day, but deep down, I knew it wasn't possible – the memory of Thomas' death would haunt me for days.

"That's not your business," she replied flatly, her narrowed eyes burning with anger as she looked back up at me. Regret washed over me, and I blinked twice. Hazell returned and placed a DVD on the counter – Thomas' favorite movie, which he had found while searching the aisles.

"It's okay," Claire said quietly, though her voice lacked the warmth it had before. I stopped in my tracks, looking back at her. "Thomas was my closest friend," she continued, pausing as if searching for the right words. "He was killed – murdered – a few days ago."

My heart sank, and I opened my mouth to offer sympathy, but the words felt awkward and empty in my throat. I longed to reach out to her, to convey my understanding, but all I could do was stand there in silence, tears welling up in my eyes.

Hazell's bright smile wavered as he noticed the tension between Claire and me, then turned his attention back to her. "Hello. We want to rent this... we should watch it with the other guys."

Claire snapped abruptly, cutting off any further questions I had for her. "Is there something store-related I can help you with?"

I could see the pain in her eyes beneath her composed exterior, and I desperately wished I knew how to comfort her. I watched helplessly as Hazell completed our transaction and paid the bill.

Her eyes met mine, and I saw a gentle curve in her lips. Her brown eyes sparkled like freshly fallen snow, her golden skin radiated warmth, and her smile brightened the room.

"You wanna come over and watch it with us? It was Thomas's favorite movie." Hazell offered Claire.

"I would," she said with a shrug, her gaze avoiding Hazell and mine, "but I'm trapped at this run-down place." Hazell discreetly pocketed the movie from the counter.

"All right, maybe next time," he offered once more. "Take care, Claire." Claire didn't raise her head as we strolled back to our car. I knew she was on my brother's list, destined to meet a grim fate like Thomas's. I felt relieved she hadn't come. It was only a matter of time before my brother caught up with her.