Makai was taken to the hospital in a separate ambulance...the one that Allister – Allister's body - wasn't in. It isn't fair. Allister was radiant. She was literalsunshine. You could hit rock bottom and one smile from Al would make you feel on Cloud9. She was never judgmental of a single soul, and she accepted everyone. The world lacks people like her, and to have her just...taken away from us is more than unfair. More than an injustice. It's a tragedy. But we know that tragedy is never fair. 

Allister, the glowing golden girl is dead. What wrong did she ever inflict on someone to have her taken away? Why did the killer take her of all people? She was the closest thing to perfect any human could've ever attained.

I don't cry. My mind is racing too much to process death. I know she's dead and gone forever, but it hasn't hit me. Not yet. But soon enough it will catch up to me, and when it does, I know I'll be a wreck. Also, I'm in Enzo's car. If I cried, maybe he'd like it. I don't want to give him the satisfaction again. 

"Did you know?" I ask him, looking out the window, watching the Spring Carnivallights fade in the distance. From far away, it looks like a blast: twinkling lights, fireworks, enormous speakers, rides and booths, dancing...but up close, you'd know it was the scene of death and life – hope and harrow. 

"No," Enzo answers. "I was warned someone would die. I didn't know it would be Allister." 

"Okay," I reply. Is he lying? The world may never know. Do I feel like reading between lines and trying to figure it all out right now? The world may know that my answer is no."Take me to Della's." I don't feel like facing my parents. 

Why are you home so late, Reyna? Why are there drops of someone else's blood in your hair and on your clothes, Reyna? Why are you so upset, Reyna?

Why did you hide from me that I had a brother, Mom? Why did Dad act like he never knew who Makai Keanu was, Mom? Why did you cheat on Dad, Mom?

"Umm..." Enzo unsurely hums, stopping at a stoplight. 

"You don't have to keep acting like you don't know who all my friends are where they live," I let him know. "Just go ahead and drop me at her house. I'm overdue there."

Enzo sighs. I don't look at his face because I'll know what happens if I do. I'll wonder how much of anything between us was legitimate and wonder if I can ever forgive him. I don't feel like wandering too much of anything right now. "To Della's, it is, then." 

We drive on the street with the arching trees, and the dried blood from Enzo's"carjacking wounds" still stain a part of the road. I'm reminded that everything about him that night was staged. I see Enzo looking at me looking at the scene from the corner of my eye. He doesn't need to tell me that he knows what I'm thinking. Looking at the blood, there isn't much else that I would be thinking of. Deeply, I sigh and close my eyes, resting my head on the window, listening to the rhythm of the car and feeling it bounce over a covered pothole once in a while. 

Finally, we pull up to Della's house. The lights are on in the living room, as I had hoped. 

 "Do you want me to wait here for you?" 

Enzo questions, watching me. "No," I answer honestly. 

For a minute, Enzo looks hurt. I wonder if he likes causing himself pain – that's a question for Maren. He doesn't ask me if I'm lying, either, because he can read off of me that it's the truth. "How will you get home?"

"I can figure it out." My voice is soft for a few reasons. I can't be harsh to someone who saved my life, but also, my voice being any louder would disclose the various emotions I'm feeling. 

"I know." 

I get out of the car and deliver a lazy "thanks" before walking up the porch steps to Adelina's home. Enzo's black car backs out and goes to God-knows-where. Tentatively, I knock on the door. 

"If you're Hanzo, I'm sorry..." she calls. "If you're a salesman, piss off. If you're anyone else, the door is open." 

Slowly, I open the door and enter the wood-floored, empty home of Della. The place is dark beside the living room, where Della watched something on TV. Upstairs is dark and lonely, and all the pictures of Adelina and her mom remain on the walls. "Who is it?" she asks, voice echoing in the house. How can she stand to be in such a place all alone? "Anyone else," I respond. 

At my voice, she turns, jade eyes were swollen from crying. "Hi," she meekly greets. 

 "I assume you heard the news," I base off of her recent tears. 

But she furrows her brown brows at me and shakes her head. "What news?"

 Oops. I venture to the living room and nod at the space beside her on the couch. "Can I sit?"

Della nods. "What news?" she repeats.

 I've never been very crafty with words, or great at creating euphemisms. Being brutally honest has always been my MO. "Allister died tonight." 

 Adelina opens her mouth in a small O, disbelief flooding her eyes with tears. Unlike me, the fact that she's gone forever immediately registers with Della and it hits her full force. She lets out a cacophonous cry before unleashing a flood of tears. Della's always been strong. I walked in on her just getting over crying, and now she's doing it all over again. If Adelina can't keep it together, then who can?

She leans against my arm and I hug her, feeling a wave of sadness reach me, too. Allister. Gone. Never coming back. A tear runs down my face, but that's it. Just one, lousy team. She deserves more than one lousy tear, and I'm angry at myself that I haven't given her more yet.

"Why am I such a terrible person?" Della questions, nose stuffed with snot. "I was a bitch to Makai, I was a bitch to you, and I was a bitch to Hanzo...why?"

 "You're not a bitch," I assure. "You're strong. Not a lot of people are like you." 

 "I'm sorry I made you kill Freddie," she whispers.

Like it did when Enzo admitted to psychopathy, my body goes rigid and I momentarily stop breathing. How does she know? If Della knows, that means they all know..." they" being Maren, Aero, and Hanzo. Allister knew. "No one made me do anything. My actions, my responsibilities, my consequences."

She sits up and scans me over. "Who are you and what have you done to Reyna?" 

 I snort. "We both went through a rough patch," I explain. 

 "I can't get over that she's dead." Della trembles. "I can't even remember what I last said to her." 

"That's not a bad thing," I comfort. "You know what else isn't a bad thing?" 

 "Hmm?" she asks, doubtful. What could bring her up in a time like this? 

 "Drive me to the Solaris Hospital," I demand. 

 "Why?" she grumbles.

 "I think it's time for you to say hi to Makai." 

Adelina jackknifes up and darts to her room upstairs, footsteps thundering up the stairs and down the hall. There's a jingle of her keys. "Heads up!" she calls from above, looking down at me and dropping her keys to me. "I can't drive like this. Go ahead and start the car, I'll meet you there."

I catch them and stand there aimlessly. Is she serious? "GO!" she screeches, tumbling down with an envelope in her hand. I turn and jog out the door, starting the car and turning on the AC as Della crashes in and closes the door, out of breath. "I've been waiting for this for a long...long time." I back out and head to SH. "Tell me everything that I've missed with you. After 4512. I don't want to hear about Freddie."

I switch a glance over to her, glad to have gotten over our bump in the road. In times like this, we need all the support we can get. We can't block each other out. What about Enzo? 

Enzo's a psychopath. I'll make an exception. 

 Will you?

 "I haven't told anyone this...not even my parents. You can't tell anyone until I'm ready to tell them, okay?"

 Della perks a brow up. "It's you. How bad could it be?" 

 I shoot her an evil eye. "I'm serious."

 "Fire away," she challenges, trying to be lighthearted. We both are trying to be casual, trying not to dwell on the loss of a dear friend. 

 "First thing's first...Makai is my half-twin brother."

 "...like the Hudson twins? That means that your mom..."

"Yeah, I put the pieces together," I bitterly finish. "Sorry, I just...haven't confronted them about it. I just can't believe that, at the dinner table, they pretended to not even know who Makai was. It was twisted." I give Della the basic rundown of the CD in my car, directing me to drop someone off at the SH. I give her the rundown of the other CD in my car telling me about the history of the suicide in the hall and my mom's infidelity. 

"That's a lot to swallow," she says. "Your entire high school career...and your brother was right with you...incredible."

"Tell me about it." 

 "You must've been crushed when they took him from you at 4512."

I go on to tell Adelina about how we got him back. That there was a gun to my head but someone pulled the trigger faster and that bastard is dead. "Who's the saviour?"

"A deputy," is my answer, fists clenching the steering wheel to keep myself from feeling angry – sad and angry. 

"Wait, wait, wait...a deputy. What did he look like?" 

 "Black hair. Nasty yellow eyes." Yeah. Nasty. 

 "That's the guy who took Makai in the first place!" she jumps with excitement. "Let's get him! Bring him to justice." 

I say nought. How do I even begin? "Um, not quite."

"Reyna Copulas, what the hell happened to you?" 

 "Well, I killed Freddie and that same deputy covered my tracks. We turn him in, I get turned in. Oh, not to mention, he's Aero's psychopathic brother." 

Adelina throws herself against the seat and deflates. "I missed so much when I was being a social recluse." She throws a skinny finger in my face. "Never let me do that again." 

We pull into the SH parking lot and Della grabs the handle but I lock the door. "I was wondering..." I sigh and drum my fingers on the wheel. "...your house is so lonely. If you want to crash at my place, you're totally free to."

She sits up. "Asking me to stay with you is asking me to help you avoid your parents. Slay your demons and I'll slay mine." 

I turn to grab my extra clothes from the carnival when I see a sleek, black car in the back of the lot. No way... 

 Adelina gets out and knocks on my window when I don't follow. "What're you doing?"

 "Can I borrow your car?" I question, rolling the window down. "I think I'm ready to slay my demons." 

 "Sure, I'm staying here tonight, so don't bother bringing it back." 

 "How should I tell them?"

Adelina smirks, leaning her elbows on the door where the window would've been had not rolled it down. "Like you always do – straight up."

I nod, trying to muster up some confidence. "Alright. Let's do this."

Adelina also nods. "Let's." She backs up and taps the hood. With a wink, she vanishes into the hospital, where she talks with the lobbyist who points her towards the elevators. Nervously, she taps her envelope o' mystery against an open palm. 

"We got you, Makai," I whisper to myself, relief finally hitting me. "It's over." But is it, really? The killer, unidentified, is out there sniping my friends now. He or she can't be done just yet. Killers have motives, but I know nothing about theirs.

I go into reverse gear and turn to look behind me when the black car in the back of the lot turns on. With a grunt, I reverse, then forward out of the parking lot. I pull onto the street with the arching trees once again, only to realize I'm being followed. By Enzo. I speed up, and so does he. "Brake check," I mutter before slamming on the brakes, nearly giving myself whiplash. My head jerks forwards and the seatbelt runs hot across my exposed skin. To avoid smashing into me, Enzo brakes hard and veers off the street, headlights pointing into the woods. 

Furious, I get out of Della's car, throw the door shut, and march to Enzo. He steps out of the car and puts his hands in a steeple position as if begging me not to explode on him."I have two questions for you," I begin before he can. In the corner of my eye, I see blood– 

Enzo's actual old blood, or hallucination Freddie's? "One: why are you following me?" "I wanted to make sure you got home safe." His voice is low and base-y, a soft, rolling thunder. His tall silhouette is highlighted by his indoor car lights, which also cast shadows on his face. His eyes are deep-set; shadowed over so I can't exactly see the yellow colour I know them to be. 

Dubiously, I look at him. "Why did you really follow me?" 

 "I..." he sighs. "Type's gonna kill me for helping Makai. Literally or figuratively, who knows?" 

 I give him my are-you-freaking-kidding-me? face – high brows, gaping mouth on the verge of laughter, big eyes. "You want a place to stay?"

 "I did save your life..." Wow. Leverage. Really? Use leverage on me during a time like this?

"Yeah, and I didn't turn you into the cops for taking and torturing my-" Brother? Friend? "Makai. So I think we're about even."

"Okay, well I debugged your house," he wagers. "Which is pretty nice of me considering I was the one who put all the effort into bugging it in the first place." Now, I realize that he'll use anything to get his way. He's not so perfect as he put on. "You owe me."

"Come in my room and I'll kill you," I threaten. "Self-defense is an easy case to plea against a psycho." Saying the words – pointing out his psychological condition - makes me hurt for him. I'm not cutthroat – that's Della. I'm also not super nice to everyone who walks in my way – that was Allister. The words coming out of my mouth don't sound like me at all. Not the normal me, at least. Maybe the exasperation exhausted me. 

"You versus me?" he challenges. "Don't think you'd stand a chance."

 "You're right," I acknowledge. "Crowbars don't work as fast as guns." Nice one, Reyna! 

"Onto my second question: who's the killer?"

 Enzo splays his hands out in a surrender signal. "Honestly, I have no idea. I've never met him face-to-face. He's got a web of people working for him. Those are the people I talk with." 

 "Why should I believe you?" I inquire, now challenging him. 

 "Doesn't matter." 

 "You answer me first," he demands, getting agitated. 

 "Why?" I challenge, unafraid. 

 "Because right now that's the only thing that matters to me. Do you think I'm the killer? Yes, or no, Reyna?"

 Before, my opinion was all he cared about. Maybe at the carnival, I caught him in a raw, open moment. Now, he knows he's been pushed out and cut off. Now, he's trying to block me out, too. Or maybe he doesn't have a reason for me to believe him and he won't admit it.

"Whatever," I grumble, spinning on my heels and walking back to my car. I swing the door open and sit, the overhead lights coming on. On the passenger seat, there's a recorder.

PLAY ME.

Jumping out of the car, I turn on the flashlight built into my phone. The killer or one of their lackey was here within the five minutes I was out. Did Enzo distract them for me? Was he lying about Type hating him just now?

 Charging through the woods, I let my flashlight bounce everywhere, looking for a set of eyes, or a ripped piece of clothing, or footprints. 

"Reyna!" Enzo calls. "What're you doing?" his voice asks, growing closer. He's almost silent as he darts through the brush to reach me. "Running out on a deal?" he inquires, trying to mask his true confusion.

"Someone was in my car just now. They put a recorder on the passenger seat," I say in a rush, still bolting through the woods.

 "Are you sure it didn't fall from somewhere after you slammed your brakes?" he retorts, a hint of disgust in his tone. 

"Positive." 

 "I'll help you look, then." 

Enzo is a conundrum on legs. Psychopaths don't handle their emotions as others would. I think I remember reading online, or maybe Maren told me, that they do feel to an extent. But they just don't deal with it as normal people do. 

One moment, Enzo accepts me pushing him away. The next, he's almost angry about it and pushes back. Now, he's here, ready to help. 

Internally, I groan at my stupidity. That's not psychoticism, Reyna. That's a breakup. 

We tromp on through in silence, our feet snapping twigs and crunching leaves. "Do you love him?" Enzo asks. "Makai, I mean." 

 "Why?"

"He loves you," is his answer. It's blunt and straightforward, just the way I like it. 

 "Does my answer even matter to you, or is this for future leverage?"

 "I don't know," Enzo says. There's a passing moment of silence, and in it, I think of Allister and what she would've done in this situation. She would've been open and honest; not sceptical and disbelieving. 

 "I do," I respond. 

 "So what was I to you?"

 Shrugging, I say, "My puppet master?" 

 Enzo snorts. "Forget it." 

 "I love him by default," I add to my answer. I can almost feel the spark of intrigue snapin Enzo's curiosity.

"By default? What does that mean?" 

"It means you kidnapped and tortured my half-twin brother," I spit, pushing a vine out of the way and pausing for a 360 surrounding scan, coming up empty. "Surprise."

"I didn't know." 

 "Do you saying anything other than that?" 

 "I'm sorry." There's an extra rasp in his voice, and I know that the sorry applies to more than just one thing. 

I don't say I forgive him because I don't know if I do just yet. Maybe I will later, maybe I won't. It doesn't matter right now. "Whoever was here is gone."

We return to the vehicles. "Want me to listen with you?" Enzo asks, lingering by my cardoor. 

I shrug. I've learned that Makai is my twin-half-brother due to my mom cheating through these planted messages. How much worse can it get? "Sure."

 Enzo leans over the car and peers his head in, yellow eyes flicking to the recorder I hold in my hands. Feeling bold, I press play, expecting an automated voice. But instead, I getEnzo's. 

"Hanzo Duvall," Enzo says in the recording. When there's silence, he adds, "Not a fan, I suppose." Wickedly, he laughs. "Hanzo seems like he's righteous anyways, and people with morals are the most boring of friends...but the best to play with."

"What is this?" I ask him. "And don't you dare say you don't know." 

"Eat these," Recording Enzo demands. There's a sound of crinkling plastic and maniacal eating. There's a shuffling of feet and the sound of fist-on-face. Loudly, something falls. I recognize it as the chair Makai was in. Audibly, Enzo grunts as the punching continue. "If you're going to take it out on me, spare my pretty face," RecordingEnzo grunts.

"Don't listen to that, Reyna," Enzo says, snatching at the recorder.

 I hold it away and ask, "Why?" 

"Anyways," Recorder Enzo continues. "Allister Casada...nothing?...well she was too perfect anyways. Perfect people never have flaws to exploit, and that's just unamusing." 

 Enzo saying Allister's name like that...like someone who loves to cause pain, feels like a knife twisting in my gut. 

The recorder goes on. "I'd list Adelina Saylor, but...someone else has bigger plans for her. She's untouchable to me. You can either look at that as a good thing or a bad thing." 

"Enzo. What. Is. This?" I growl. All I get in return is a death stare. 

"I'll give you a hint as to the limits of the man," Recorder Enzo speaks. "I take the people, I take their blood, and I usually don't kill them. That's not my job if you know what I mean." There's a pause. "Now...Maren Desario...I'm not even going to look at you for a reaction. No one likes that freak besides...Reyna Copulas." 

"Who were you talking to?" I ask Enzo.

"Just turn it off. Now." Enzo's request sounds more like a threat.

"What happens if I don't?"

The recorder goes on. "And we have a hit, ladies and gentlemen. I could've guessed, though. Reyna's the older sister you never had...well, you had one until you killed her." 

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Makai's voice plays. Before I can stop it, my hand flies to my mouth. This must've been when Enzo had Makai. Why were they talking about my friends and me? Why list us like that? 

Recorder Enzo laughs. "I don't talk about anything unless I know all about it, Makai. Your story is such a cliché. You and the big sis driving too fast on a rainy night. You turn too sharply, the alcohol in your blood blurring your judgement. You hydroplane and kill your sister. Dad found a way to forgive you for the most part, but Mommy never did. That's why when you're busted for breaking the law, she's extra explosive. But you already knew that, right?"

"You were wrong," I croak to him. "His mom hated Makai because he wasn't hers." 

 Enzo dives over me, lunging for the recorder with a desperation I'd only see in starving, rabid animals. Using my legs, I bring them up and push him out of the car. "You wanted to listen with me, so you're listening with me!" I shout. "This is what you wanted, so here it is." My eyes sting. Is it because I hate Enzo for torturing Makai with his past? Or is it because I didn't want to truly know how vicious he could be? 

There are multiple punching sounds in the recorder. Over, and over, and over again, they sound. I glare at Enzo, thinking he hurt Makai this badly until Makai's voice pipes in with: 

"What are you doing?" 

Recording Enzo laughs. "Making a scene," he says with grizzly ferocity. "But I'll be the victim of a carjack operation in someone else's eyes."

My eyes. 

"Why are you doing this?" Makai inquires.

There's a sound of pills in a bottle – Enzo's light drugs. "Money, kid."

For once, Makee Canoe, it wasn't for money. The memory of just a few hours ago hits me, and I finally understand why Enzo responded to Makai that way.

Then what was it for?

"Where are you going?" Makai questions.

"Don't know when I'll be back, but I'll make sure to say hi to Reyna for you."

Anger flares up in the pit of my stomach. I knew Enzo played me that night, but I did not know that I was such a...a thing to him – an object. 

"No!" Makai shouts, shuffling in his chair. "No, you will not. Don't touch her." 

 "What makes her so special, Keanu?" 

 "You said she was like my sister," Makai justifies in the small recorder speaker. "You're not wrong." 

No, he wasn't. I literally am your sister.

"Then who can I touch?" Recorder Enzo asks.

Makai stays silent.

Enzo snorts. "Just when you started to get interesting..." Footsteps sound – Enzoleaving to act like he was the victim of a carjacking operation, all so he could gain my trust. All so he could hurt Makai and get money and drugs. 

There's an extended silence, but the recorder still plays. Soon enough, Makai unleashes a primal scream. One of pain, hopelessness, and depression. 

I turn to him. Quietly, I ask, "How can you look at someone – a human being – as if they were a pair of sunglasses or a hat? As if they were just a thing?" 

"You know why," he whispers. Because he's psycho.

"You were so good at being so bad," I tell him, wondering if he sees that as a compliment. "It's scary.

"Do I scare you?" he inquires, searching my grey eyes with his yellow ones.

 "The things you don't scare me...it's more of the fact that you can act as you've never done them." I curse myself for being honest. A part of me is still open to him, yearning for the chance that we can move past this. No, not move past it. That'simpossible. A part of me is open to us working through this; figuring out all the kinks. 

He shifts his weight from one foot to another. "I don't want to do those  things anymore." 

Evenly, I stare at him. "But don't you crave hurting people?" I spitefully remind him. 

"I crave other things now."

"What happens when you get what you want? Do you get bored and move on?" I ask.

Enzo shakes his head. "Not always. What if I want to be normal?"

"You don't," I tell him. "Not yet, at least."

"But I do want something that normal people have," he hints. If this was the first day we met, he would've flashed a charming smile and given me a wink. But this is 3:00 in the morning and Enzo's proven to be honest so far. The time for a façade has long passed. Instead, he stares at me with a volatile amount of intensity.

"What is it?"

 His jaw feathers. "You know what it is." With that, he turns around and settles into his car, pulling back on the road. I start to drive to the house, Enzo King following in my wake. Out of all the surprises and "I don't know" of the night/morning, I do know what Enzo had insinuated.

He desires an actual relationship. He yearns for me.

But how can I just...welcome him into my life with open arms? After everything he did to my friends, how could I just turn the other cheek?

"One problem at a time, Reyna," I sigh, casting an eerie glance at the recorder before stuffing it in my duffel bag. 

"Right now: parents."