The next morning, Emily entered the kitchen to the inviting scent of brewing coffee. Officer Burns, clad in his work uniform, tended to the coffee machine while his radio occasionally emitted feedback from the nearby counter. Emily watched her steps carefully, mindful not to step on any feline creature. It took her three seconds to realize that Fifi was no longer around. With a sigh, she walked over to the fridge to find something to eat.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Officer Burns quipped from behind. Emily frowned at the term he used to refer to her.

"Good morning," Emily replied, her eyes fixed on the contents of the fridge as she debated what to have for breakfast. The only advantage of Officer Burns being there was the well-stocked fridge and variety of snacks. Emily decided on vanilla yogurt and banana-flavored Weetabix cereal.

"Did you sleep well?" Officer Burns continued the conversation, handing Emily a turquoise bowl and a spoon. Emily set the spoon aside and reached for a fork.

"Yeah, I slept fine," Emily responded, taking a forkful of her cereal while standing.

"Do you usually talk in your sleep?" Officer Burns asked. Emily furrowed her brows.

"No," not that I'm aware of.

"Well, you did a lot of that last night." Officer Burns said, pouring two cups of the hot coffee into a sleek black flask and an additional cup for himself.

"What did I say?"

"Nothing coherent. It seemed like you were having a nightmare," Officer Burns replied. Emily prompted him with her eyes, signaling him to continue. "Someone was forcing you to do something, and it sounded like you didn't want to."

"That's interesting," Emily murmured.

"You can talk about it with Dr. Melinda on Monday if you want."

"I will," Emily assured him with a smile. She had no intention of doing so.

Officer Burns was the last to leave the house. Jordan, still out from the previous night, had convinced Emily to cover for him. It had been a challenging night since Emily was still high and still had to act as if Jordan was home.

After rinsing her bowl, Emily left the kitchen with her yogurt and headed to the living room. She turned on a random music channel to pass the time. Two songs in, someone knocked on the door. Emily groaned, peeling herself off the green couch. She took a large gulp of her yogurt before twisting the door handle.

"Joseph?" The boy shifted on his heels, offering a weak wave of the hand. Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other and absentmindedly stroked the black door handle.

"Hey," he voiced after a short pause. Emily forced a smile and held her ground. There was nothing interesting they could do inside the house, and being in a confined space with Joseph would be even more awkward than him standing at the doorstep holding a box of expensive chocolates. "I brought these for you."

Emily chuckled and accepted the box, stepping out of the house to free up her other hand. "Thanks."

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out?" Joseph's voice wavered as his word count increased. Emily let out another nervous chuckle, wiggling her toes inside her ankle socks. The morning sun felt pleasant on her exposed thighs and toes.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Emily replied. "I have to take care of my aunt; she's really sick."

"I'm sorry..." Joseph slapped the sides of his legs, lips tucked in regret. "Well I'll text you?" Emily nodded, fully aware of the eight consistent texts she'd ignored.

"My phone's acting up." Emily voiced. "Can't receive sms and shit. Try Insta? I'll log in on a computer."

"Cool." Joseph gave a weak smile. He thumbs upped Emily before slowly exiting the driveway.

 
***
 

Emily remained on the couch for the rest of the day until she received a call from Mickey around quarter to six in the evening.

"Heyyy," Emily's tone was full of enthusiasm.

"Wanna go to a party-sorta thing?" Mickey asked from the other end. It had been a while since she had been to one. Without thinking, Emily agreed and rushed upstairs to inform Jordan of his plans. He was still asleep since noon. To be sure, Emily left five voice notes for him and quickly changed into brown cargo pants and a tight-fitting tube top. She squeezed a denim jacket into her monkey bag, along with lip gloss and some cash. Mickey picked her up in his friend's car ten minutes later.
  
  
Mickey's friends' choice of a party location turned out to be a dried-out swimming pool. It was both a relief and a disappointment for Emily. She was glad she didn't have to get wet, but she couldn't help but wonder why they had chosen such an obscure venue. At the shallow end of the pool, a DJ stand was set up with a young guy who looked no older than twenty-one. His mixing skills were impressive, and Emily particularly enjoyed it when he played one of her favorite songs by Lana Del Rey. At the other end of the pool, there was an old sofa and mats where small groups of people gathered. In the center, about five feet deep, a large bonfire illuminated the area along with a single, white security light.

Mickey was the first to jump into the empty pool, stretching out his arms for Emily to join him. Emily laughed and shook her head, declining the invitation. Moments later, Oliver rushed from the pavement and leaped into Mickey's arms without warning. The two of them tumbled down next to a dirty underwear. Emily burst into laughter.

Mickey helped Emily into the pool, and they joined a crowd where Mickey and Oliver seemed acquainted with almost everyone. Emily found a spot on a makeshift lounge chair while Mickey sat cross-legged on a mat.

The young DJ continued mixing songs until dusk fell. It didn't take long before beers were replaced with hard liquor and clean weed. Some white stuff too. This was followed by a series of corny stand-up comedy and a talented female singer.

As the singer finished her song, Mickey smacked Oliver's back twice, a cheeky smile dancing on his lips. Oliver leaned his head back to gaze up at the stars. Emily sensed a thing between the girl and Oliver and smiled to herself.
 

Emily accepted the joint Mickey passed her and took two deep puffs.

"This is so good," she remarked.

"I know," Mickey smirked. "It's imported." His loose dreads were now dyed brown at the tips and hung down tonight. Emily's right hand twitched, wanting to touch his hair. She brushed her hand against her knee instead.

"No, I mean all of this," Emily said, looking around and smiling. The atmosphere felt welcoming, and there was a sense of comfort and camaraderie in the air. Emily didn't have to try hard to fit in; she just did.

"You're free to join in anytime." Mickey smiled up at her.

"So, what is this?" Emily inquired. The shallow end of the pool was now occupied by someone else. An acrobat it seemed.

"It's a community for young people," Mickey explained. "Not too young, but not quite proper adults either. We meet up and do things, like hang out and work on self-development... that kind of stuff."

"That's so cool." Emily whispered to herself, wishing she had discovered them earlier.

"I'm a cool guy, what do you expect?" Mickey winked. Emily laughed, soaking in the moment. However, her smile quickly vanished.
 

"Cops! Fucking cops!" Someone yelled at the top.

Emily gasped as she watched the group of kids scramble towards the tiled walls, trying to disappear from sight. Some guys were helping pack up the electronics. She remained frozen until a strong police flashlight shone on her face.

Emily grabbed her bag, which was by her feet, and ran towards the opposite corner. She used the metal steps to pull herself out of the pool, taking them two steps at a time. She closely followed a group that ran into a stranger's backyard.

Emily ran until her muscles ached, her ragged breaths provided no relief. She pushed herself across the suburbs, eventually reaching the town center where she found respite against an electric pole drowning in posters. The group she had been with split up, each heading to their respective homes.

Feeling her pockets, Emily let out a frustrated sigh. Her phone was still at the pool, laying somewhere. She had fled without a second thought, dropping the gadget in the process. The left sleeve of her jacket was damp with spilled alcohol, and her ankle socks had accumulated debris from every little weed and shrub she brushed past in the run. The exposed skin of her ankles were lightly scraped. Emily sighed and adjusted the weight of her backpack. She didn't have enough cash for a taxi back to her part of town, and without her phone, she couldn't get an instant loan.
  
 
Emily watched a customer inside a bakery across from her being served a glass of milk and a slice of chocolate cake. She decided to enter the establishment, to make a phone call to her aunt to be picked-up. She was out of other options

As soon as she pushed open the bakery doors, the delightful aroma of cinnamon and freshly baked dough enveloped Emily. A tiny bell jingled above her as she walked through the partially clear door. She approached the counter, consciously avoiding touching the clear glass that housed an array of pastries.

"Welcome to Heaven's Bakery. What can I get you?" A younger girl than Emily appeared to take her order. Emily forced herself to respond to the girl's radiant smile with a feeble one of her own.

"Can I have a..." Emily paused, gazing at the display. "Meat pie?"

"Do you want it warmed?" The girl asked, to which Emily nodded. The girl used tongs to retrieve Emily's selection and placed it in the microwave, still beaming. Emily tried to identify the classical song playing softly from the speakers.

"Emily?" Emily slowly turned towards the direction of the voice, inwardly cursing as soon as she laid eyes on Joseph.

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked, scratching the back of her neck.

"This is our bakery," Joseph replied, placing a fresh batch of cookies on the counter. "What brings you here?"

"Just getting a pie," Emily shrugged. She was supporting the business.

"All the way here?" Joseph inquired, scanning her attire. The weather wasn't cold enough to warrant zipping up her jacket. "Dressed like that?"

"Can't a girl look hot?"

"Is your aunt all right?" Joseph asked, his tone tinged with mockery. "Or did you just not want to hang out with me?"

"Well, pardon me for feeling like I couldn't handle watching the only person left in my life slowly dying. I needed a damn break!" Emily's fabricated words successfully elicited a pang of guilt in Joseph's expression. She observed his face shifting through a range of emotions, contemplating what to say next or whether to stay silent. Emily broke the awkward silence by returning to her initial plan. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Forty minutes later, Mrs. Stuart arrived, her nostrils flaring like an enraged buffalo. Emily ignored the scornful look thrown her way and closed the car door. Mrs. Stuart tapped the steering wheel in contemplation.

"I received a call from the police."

"Fuckin' hell." Emily closed her eyes. They must have contacted one of her emergency contacts. If only they were as swift in restoring peace and tranquility to the town. Emily would bet her left hand that the trailer murder case was still unsolved.

"I thought you had given up drugs," Mrs. Stuart said, causing Emily to flinch at the accusation.

"I didn't take anything." She scoffed. Drugs? A little bit of weed and some alcohol, that was it.

"The police seem to think otherwise," Mrs. Stuart retorted. Emily sighed, her gaze fixed on the bakery outside. Sitting in the car with her aunt was becoming unbearable. The police scare had shattered her temporary bliss, sending a surge of alertness through her, much to her chagrin.

"I didn't have anything to do with that stuff," she claimed. "I didn't know they had drugs."

"What the fuck do you want, Emily?" Emily redirected her attention back to her aunt. The elderly woman had cursed on her account. Emily's shoulders slumped weakly.

"No, tell me!" Mrs. Stuart pressed, her fist landing on the horn with her final words, startling a passing cyclist. Emily closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the passenger seat.

"I'm sorry," a whisper escaped Emily's dry lips. Lord knows she too was tired of herself.

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