"Are you alive?" I hurriedly ask, realizing that was stupid. If he's dead, he isn't going to respond. God, I feel so stupid sometimes.

"I think so..." The hell? That doesn't sound like Makai at all... "Some guys stole my car and took my money."

A part of me is angry that this isn't Makai Keanu, but I realize that's terrible. I need to help this person and not be bitter about it. I can't blame him for Makai's disappearance. 

"Are any of your bones broken, do you know?" The man's white shirt is stained in blood and his clothes have been ripped to shreds.

He shakes his head. "No, I don't think so." I realize that his hair is black, while Makai'sis dark brown and shorter. Also, his legs are a lot longer than Makai's, and he's a lot taller. "I don't know if I can stand or not." Slowly, he tries to get up and I gauge his age. He's in his lower 20's...maybe 22 or 23.

"How long ago did this happen?" I inquire, something about all of this feeling off. The automated voice did this to the man, so of course, it's off. Everything with the disappears and murders are off. 

"Less than an hour, I think..."

Finally, he stands up, and in the headlights, his bronze skin is almost totally covered in bruises and blood. "Oh, my God," I utter, almost unable to look at all the mutilation. "You need to go to a hospital." 

"No, I'm okay...really." 

I shake my head. "You need to look at yourself. It's a miracle you haven't bled to death." In the headlights, the man's eyes almost glow a yellowy hue. "Come on, I'll drive you." 

The man laughs before cringing and holding a gash in his side. Charmingly, he smiles, teeth overwhelmingly white in the darkness. "Doesn't a pretty girl as you have somewhere to be besides talking to a guy like me to the hospital?"

I brush those annoying strands of hair back that seem to work for me in this case. I remember Della and her mom's death. But I can't go there – the kidnapper directly told me not to. "No," I say with a tiny grin. "Not particularly." 

The stranger nods. "Then I won't feel as bad taking your time."

 "The only thing you should feel bad about is the state you're in." I wave a hand up and down his lithe physique. 

 "Can you smile for a sec?"

 "Ummm..." I laugh at the question, which makes me smile.

 The man thoughtfully smiles and shakes his head. "I don't feel bad at all."

 I scoff. "Get in the car, Romeo." 

He does as told. The action of him ducking his head and sliding into my seat seems familiar as if I've seen him do it before. It's a déjà vu moment and, like all déjà vu moments, I know I won't be able to place the familiarity until it's too late. 

"The blood has dried up beside this," the man tells me, showing me the deepest gash in his side.

 "All of that for a car and some money?" I ask, plugging in directions to the nearest hospital.

Evenly, he looks at me with amber eyes. "You won't believe the things people do to get what they want." An uncalled for chill run down my spine. 

"I've never beaten someone to a pulp for a blueberry muffin..." 

"Hanzo, Della, Allister, Reyna." I'm startled at how the man knows the names of my friends until I see him reading the coffee cups. "You were going somewhere," he sorrowfully says. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I ridiculously ask. "My friends are fine..." are they really? "You're the one who's hurt..." is he really? 

 Shut up, 11:00 at night self. 

There's silence as we exit the tree clearing and I take a right to go to SH: SolarisHospital. "So are you Adelina, Allister, or Reyna?"

"I'm Hanzo," I tease. 

 "Yeah, and I'm Michelle. Nice to meet you," he renders with a charisma that also seems familiar. I shake my head discretely. Nothing about this man is familiar – I've never met him in my life.

 "I'm Reyna."

"Reyna...it's a name almost as pretty as you."

 I laugh. "I think your blood loss is talking now.

He shifts to me, his tan arm resting familiarly on the back of my seat. Unfamiliarly, I correct myself. I do not know him. "You really don't think you're pretty?" 

 "I..." I look to him and back to the road, changing the song on the kidnapper's mixtape."I don't know. I never really considered it." 

"Well consider it considered," he says with a lopsided smile. Something about him seems so genuine, and I again try to rack up in my brain who else I know that seems so genuine. I know for a fact that I lent the adjective to someone else recently, but who?

 "You live around here?" the man questions, looking at ease despite all his injuries. 

 "Yeah. Do you?" 

The man shrugs. "Fairly." We pass under a sign that tells me that Solaris Hospital is coming up right after the highway exit. "The Spring Carnival is coming up." The man looks to me with those hopeful amber eyes. "Would you want to come with me? I promise I look good without all the blood and bruises." Temptingly, he smiles, as if swaying my decision with the simple quirk of his lips.

I really want to say yes, but another part of me takes over and says, "I don't even know your name..." 

"Enzo," he introduces. "Enzo King." 

Reflexively, I clutch the steering wheel until my knuckles are white; I inhale a sharp breath; my eyes fly to the road; my body tenses. And, being perceptive like his brother, he notices it all. His look of hopefulness changes to one of disgust. Lightly, he laughs. "You know my little brother, I assume."

Yeah, he's living across from me for a while. 

"Yeah, I do."

I pull into the parking lot of Solaris Hospital and stop in a parking slot, hands still glued to the steering wheel. The lot is vacant besides the vehicles of those who work here.No one is around. Enzo could kill me right here. "Look, Reyna," he gently says, placing a course and calloused hand tenderly over mine. "I know what Aero told you." I look him in his amber eyes which, surprisingly, fill with tears. He removes his hand and brushes his black hair back. "Most of it is true. I was really into drugs, and I'll admit it, I get tempted to start them again. But Aero holds this resentment towards me that I can't blame him for. He went through the cursed teenage years without me there. He got bullied a lot and could've used some help..." 

Am I buying this? The way Enzo is telling me the story...there's no way anyone could lie about this. Maybe the resentment Aero has against his half-brother from years ago twisted the story a bit. 

"I wasn't there for him," Enzo continues. "And it makes me sick even thinking about it. I try to mend the relationship, but it just seems to make things worse. I went to rehab...mostly for him, but the time away made things worse, I think. Becoming a cop made me think that I could stop family relationships from crashing as ours did. Even..." Enzosighs and wipes his eyes. "Even my parents don't forgive me completely." I find myself even a little moved. "Why tell me all of this?"

"Because I've begged everyone I know to give me a second chance. And with you, I want at least one." 

I take a deep breath. None of what Enzo said was a lie – it's humanly impossible to just blatantly lie about this. Enzo was being serious, but so was Aero...so who do I believe? 

Believe own self.!

I barely know Aero, but he's proven to be a good guy. I don't know Enzo at all besides stories that Aero may or may not have formed amidst his hatred. So who am I to judge him? 

I look to Enzo, the lights from the hospital giving off more light for me to see his chiselled face. He looks like he's ready for me to turn him down as if many have done so before. You can't fake emotion like that. There's something about humans...you just can't. 

"When is the Spring Carnival?" I ask Enzo, whose eyes flick to me with gleeful surprise. The way that Enzo and his brother move are almost the same – the way they walk and sit and stand. But both are very different in the ways that Enzo is emotional and open, while Aero seems closed off and analytical. 

"This Saturday." 

 "I do believe I'm free," I tell him. 

 "You'll go with me?" he excitedly asks, smiles brilliantly contagious. 

 "I mean, I guess," I smugly reply. "But you won't live to see the day unless you get yourself patched up." 

"Alright, alright," he chuckles. He picks up an old gas receipt and scrawls something on the back. While he's writing, a flash of undeniable contempt covers his face before his happiness replaces it. It's like he didn't even know it was happening. I start to wonder if I even saw it. "Here's my number."

"I'll try not to lose it," I joke, putting it in my sweatpants pocket. That's when I remember I'm wearing the most unpresentable clothing and no makeup whatsoever, and suddenly, I'm embarrassed.

"Thanks for taking me here," he gratifies with kind, yellow eyes. "And if I can get my car back, I'll pick you up on Saturday." 

 "You don't even know where I live," I render. 

"It's like I said, Reyna: you won't believe the things people do to get what they want."With that, he steps out of the car, waves with a smile, and heads into the Solaris Hospital, where I see people immediately helping him. 

I should feel happy or relieved, but instead, all I can think about is that flash of contempt. There's something about it that reminds me of what Maren said a long time ago. Something about the slip of an angry expression...I'll ask her about it tomorrow at school. 

I check my phone and read all the missed phone calls, unread texts, and unheard voicemails I have from my friends. I'll have a lot of explaining to do, starting with the killer's mixtape.