“Hmm… Is that so? And what did John say to that?” I took a humungous bite of the chocolate donut in my hand, listening to Howard chatter over the phone.

“No…way.” I took a sip of green tea. It had gone stone cold half an hour ago. I loved it. “And then what did you do?”

The next thing Howard said made me spew all the precious tea, plus the gooey chewed up bite of donut, out of my mouth and onto the coffee table in front of me.

“Howard!” I said. “You can’t just say something like that!”

The doorbell rang.

“Hey, Howard, I gotta go. Catch me up later on this, will you?”

Saying my goodbyes, I shoved the rest of the donut and tea into my mouth, knowing who it was out there. The doorbell rang again.

“Comphing...” I coughed, trying to clear all the evidence away into the trash. I wiped the flecks of donut from the coffee table onto a plate and threw it in the sink, running water over it for good measure. When I was sure there was nothing left to incriminate me, I straightened my hair and went to open the door.

Who was outside? Well, of course...

“What took you so long?” Tasha pushed past me, her pumps pumping my carpet. She left sharp holes in her wake.

I shut the door behind her. “You should know that I am a cripple. I can’t exactly run to open the door.”

There must have been something guilty in my voice, for Tasha immediately spun around and narrowed her eyes, her Zara-is-hiding-something radar beeping like mad. Then she sniffed the air.

Her eyes widened. “What’s that smell?”

“Smell? What smell? I don’t smell any smell? Are you sure you smell a smell?”

Tasha’s eyes narrowed further, till she was looking at me with two lines. “You’re mumbling. You don’t mumble unless…” She gasped.

Then she threw her bag and coat onto the couch and started hunting at the sides of the room. “It’s here somewhere. I know it is…” She looked under the coffee table and then under the sofa. She looked inside the kitchen dust bin--good thing I thought of burying the trash deep.

“Tasha, what are you doing?” I asked as she neared the couch again. “I am not hiding anything.”

“I know you are… I know…” Her eyes fell on the couch cushions.

I gasped. Turns out I did forget something. No, no, no…

“Hey, Tasha, wanna hear what Howard just did? He bou—“

Her hand neared the foamy cuboid.

“Tasha, did you hear who was going to run for pres—“

She caught hold of the side of the first cushion and pulled. Nothing.

“Tasha, I would really like to go shopping today. Want to come?”

The second cushion went flying.

“Tasha, can I please borrow you string swimsuit? I feel like the beach today.”

The last landed near Granny Tonks’ silent sleeping figure.

And there it lay. The last bit of evidence I hadn't had time to clean. The one lose end that always gets the felon thrown in prison or hung from the rope. A criminal always leaves a clue behind. I reflected on that saying. I was probably the worst criminal in the whole wide universe. I might as well have left a written confession.

Tasha held the incriminating evidence up.

A box of Papa Wen’s chocolate donuts.

A whole box.

Papa Wen was a little Mexican guy down the street from my apartment who had a passion for fake yet awesome names, and equally singular bakery. It was our tradition to trudge to his quaint little corner store and stock up on donuts and cakes whenever possible, which we almost always shared. Though, just like me, I was pretty sure she cheated too. Since I had no evidence though, her play of being the wronged party could be considered entitely justifiable.

Tasha’s eyes widened into dinner-plate as she looked at me and then at the box, like she couldn’t believe I was capable of such a horrendous act of betrayal. I winced.

“What is this, Zara?” she asked, her voice climbing in volume.

“Ella wanted some and I had to buy. I didn’t eat any, though. Ella ate all of them.” I didn’t feel bad at all for framing my daughter.

“There are little specks of bread around your mouth.”

Damnation.

I gave up. I did. There was just too much against me. I shuffled towards the bare couch and threw myself down on it as softly as I could, not wanting to break my spine too. One disability was all I could juggle at a time. “Okay, I did it. I did it, and I am not sorry. You can’t do anything to me.”

I waited for Tasha to spring on my neck and drive her heels into my heart—but she didn’t. Instead she picked up a cushion from the ground, put it down beside me and sat on it. She buried her face in her hands.

I looked at her, shocked. This was an unprecedented event happening in the history of our relationship and I was struck speechless.

“I am so mad at you right now, but since I need you at the moment, I have decided to kill you later. Is that okay?” Tasha’s muffled voice came from the depths of her hands.

I thought about it for a moment. Giving her time to think about it might make it more painful. But then I shrugged. Who could refuse a day or two more of life? “Okay. What’s going on?”

“I broke up with Christopher,” she confessed.

“What? How, why, when?” What was she talking about? I couldn’t believe this. From the way he had sounded yesterday, I thought they were really hitting it on.

“Just now!” she wailed. Oh.

This was not how Tasha acted when she broke up with someone. And yes, it was always she who broke up. I don’t think there has ever been a time when it was the other way around. Tasha always knows what it is she is looking for in the opposite sex to tide her along for a few weeks, and she always knows when her latest toy has lost that factor. Then she dumps him in the trash and is out hunting for a new one. Tasha never holes up in her room wearing penguin pajamas and eating bucket loads of ice-cream when she breaks up with someone. She always chooses her next sexiest dress and hits the closest party to blow off steam.

Until now, it seemed.

I couldn’t say anything for a long time. When I finally remembered that I had a working voice box, throat and tongue, I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Why? What happened? I thought you liked him.”

“I did!” she screamed, throwing down her hands and looking at me with bright eyes. I had to refrain myself from running away. This was almost as scary as once seeing my grandma naked. “I do. That’s the problem. I like him and he isn’t the same as he used to be, and I still like him. This is not supposed to happen to me. I don’t work that way!” she wailed at the ceiling.

“Hey, hey, relax,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling it down. “Just tell me everything. Okay?”

She nodded and sniffed dramatically. “See, when we first met, he was so understanding. So nice and attentive. And so handsome.” Her eyes twinkled. “He always knew where I would want to go on a date, what I would like to have, when my next dentist’s appointment was due…” She gazed dreamily over my shoulder. “And he was always there. I could count on him for everything, which, you understand, came very handy because my best friend is a cripple.” I scowled. “We used to watch the Secretary together and then…”

“Can you please get on with the part where you break up? I can feel vomit in my throat.”

“Yes, yes… so, well, he was just perfect. After centuries of searching for just the right man, I for a second almost felt like I found him. He—“

“Tasha.”

“Alright. So he was everything and more, but then recently he just—I don’t know—changed somehow. He wasn’t as attentive anymore. We haven’t been on a date in two days, and he almost forgot to take me ice skating! Can you believe that? But what happened today was the last straw. The absolute last! The ultimate! The—“

“What was it?” I asked, rubbing her back and wondering if choking her would work better.

“He left me in a restaurant!”

I gasped, my hand stopping. Was the man still alive?

She nodded energetically. “I know, right. But he actually did. The moment he came he wasn’t paying any attention to me at all. He had this pen drive hung around his neck from a chain and he kept fingering it like he wasn’t sure it was still there or not. And he kept looking out the window. He was absolutely paranoid! And then, and then… oh I can’t say it!” She covered her face with her hands again.

“Just get it all out,” I advised.

She took a deep breath and nodded at me. “And then, a man came inside and whispered something in his ear and he…he…he told me something important had come up and he had to leave! Then he kissed me, and he l-left!”

Wow…

We sat in silence for a moment, trying to absorb the shock of the fact that there was someone alive who could actually stand Tasha up. Tasha was beautiful in every aspect of the word. Blond haired and mellow brown eyed, she was the kind of person people looked at and then run into a street lamp trying to look at again. So, what kind of a person was this Christopher?

I had planned to tell Tasha about the conversation I had heard in Mr. Rodwell’s office...but now, how could I? What could I say? I know one would probably think I should just say it, but I could feel this to be one of those moments when getting it out was just not right, in the grand scheme of things. It was like bringing up someone's birthday at a funeral. This was the funeral of Tasha’s hopes and dreams, at least in her eyes. From what I knew of her, I was sure she had already named her first two kids with Christopher and now would have to de-name them.

After a moment, I asked, “So, how exactly did you break up with him if he left?”

Tasha wiped under her eyes. “I left him a text.”

“Oh. Uhmm… Tasha? I might not know a lot about these things, but isn’t that considered kind of mean?”

“Of course it is. Serves the bastard right!” she proclaimed.

“You were telling me you still like him five minutes ago,"  I reminded, getting really worried now.

“I do, I do. But I hate him too… this is all so confusing.”

I sighed, grabbing her and making her look at me. "Dramatics aside," I said softly, "how are you doing?"

She stared at me for a long moment in silence, burning eyes gazing into mine as if trying to organize her feelings. She hung her head then, letting me draw her into a tight hug. "I am not doing good. Not doing good at all." Her shoulders shook.

"Everything will be fine," I said, rubbing her back. "I am here. You will be fi--"

The phone rang.

She pulled herself out of my embrace. I glanced at the phone and then at her, hoping it would shut up. It didn't. “Will you be okay if I answer that?” I asked.

“Go ahead…" she sniffed. "Hey, do you have any ice-cream?”

I sighed. This is really bad.

“I might have. If Ella left some, of course.”

She nodded morosely and left to hunt in the kitchen. The phone rang some more.

I picked it up.

There was silence on the other end.

“Hello?” I said. “If you called, you must have been planning to talk. Can you please start doing that right now?”

“This is a really small box!” Tasha complained.

“Hello?” I said again. “I am going to slam this phone down if you don’t speak right now,” I warned.

“Zara?” a strange voice said from the other end. And not strange because I didn’t know who it was. Strange because I had never heard him sound this way.

“Howard?” I said, surprised. “Howard, what is it? Are you okay?” We had been on the phone just moments ago. What had happened in so short a time? I gripped the receiver harder.

“Zara, I am so sorry,” the same detached voice said, like he had been ripped out of his body and was speaking from somewhere far away.

“Howard? What are you saying? What’s going on? You are scaring me.”

“I am so sorry, Zara. I arrived too late. There was nothing I could do.”

A cold, black bird alighted in my heart. “What are you saying, Howard? What happened?” As if you already don’t know.

“Meli’s dead.”

The phone fell from my nerveless fingers. I followed it soon after.