ONE AFTER THE OTHER, Amora took a dish from the sink, scrubbing it clean. She did this until they were all gone and sighed, watching the faucet's water rush over her hands.

Water. 

The woman stared down at it until she couldn't any longer. Nara was in the past. Despite knowing better, though, she still felt that twinge of guilt. If only she hadn't taken her to that lake; if only she had listened to her mother and turned back. 

It was too late now. 

When Amora turned around, a little too quickly, she waited for everything to still. That was when she spotted the whiskey on the counter, half gone, and reached over. As she took a couple more sips, Amora chuckled, remembering a time when she told herself it wouldn't happen again. 

That this was a one-time thing. 

It was also the first time she had tried whiskey, Amora recalled, and took another sip. She had no doubt that she'd regret this later, but right then she just didn't care. Besides, it was now the evening, her work at the Humane Society done with. 

It was time to be herself. 

On her way to the couch, bottle in hand, Amora tripped over the shattered glass, falling to her hands and knees. She groaned and waited for her shock, before looking around. The whiskey. It was now in pieces, intermixed with the broken glass of that photo. 

Finally, Amora decided it was time. So, after dusting herself off, she came back with a broom and dustpan. Before emptying it into the trash, she looked down at it one final time. And she remembered the day that it was taken of her and Willow. 

I'm sorry, Nara, that you came along. 

Only when she sat down on the couch, ready to relax, did she notice something. Her hand - it was wet. After looking down, she gave a delayed yelp when she saw the blood. Amora may have had a high tolerance for alcohol, but somehow she had drunk too much. 

Enough for nausea, she thought bitterly, and held her stomach. All the while, she stared down at her other hand, watching as the blood dripped onto her shirt. 

It had been two days since she visited Willow. Since then, time had gone by in slow-motion as she struggled to stay put; to not drive over there for the second time, demanding to talk. It would be immature, after all. And, more importantly, it would prove that she needed her. 

However, soon she wouldn't care. 

Besides, Amora rationalized, her mother had that nightmare about her. All those years back, when she was warned about Nara, she had taken it with a grain of salt. If Amora were to make that same mistake again, life wouldn't be worth living. 

So, after taking some pain medication, she trudged outside, keys in hand. 

It was well time. 

-

She knocked once, then twice. "Willow, open up!"

From the other end, there was no movement. 

Another beat passed. 

"Willow?" Her heart was pounding. "If you don't open up, I'll have to kick this door down. You know I will! I've done it before."

The apartment remained silent. 

"Well, I guess you'll just have to forgive me!" She stepped back, braced herself, then lunged forward. 

The door didn't budge. The second time it didn't either. 

But when she lunged a third time, harder than before, the door caved inward, thudding to the ground. 

Taken aback, she stood there, hand over stomach, before gritting her teeth. "If I throw up, Willow, I'll have you to blame." 

Still, as she stepped over the door, she shivered at the possibilities. Why aren't you here? Then she swallowed hard. Well, maybe you are. 

For a moment, Amora stopped when fully inside, looking around. Everything was in its usual place, from the piano beside her couch, sheet music on stand, to the plants on her windowsill, beginning to wither. What concerned her, though, was the lack of excessive perfume in the air.

It was gone; dead. 

Amora set her jaw. Willow could care less about those plants, but the overuse of perfume was her signature. This could only mean one thing: Willow hadn't been home recently. 

The possibilities were endless. 

Slowly, Amora straightened, then looked at her bedroom door, left halfway open. Whilst twisting the knob, she called out, but all remained silent. Then, without warning, she swung it open and waited for everything to still. 

That was when she saw it: a note on the floor. 

Amora collapsed down and held it up close. The writing was neat, which was odd in itself, and brief, reading: You know where I'll be. 

It might be too late. 

When it clicked, she dropped the note, scrambling to her feet. Amora may have still been drunk, but she could care less. Her friend's life was on the line. 

As she stepped over the door, caved inward, she miscalculated, falling to her hands and knees for the second time that day. Rocking back and forth, Amora held her knee as silent tears inched down her face. 

This could only mean one thing: Amora was getting sober. 

She had to be more careful. 

When the pain subsided, Amora managed upright, then hurried down the stairs. This time, though, she knew she couldn't afford another fall. The whiskey's numbing effects were wearing off. 

-

Amora listened to the patter of rain as she drove, the sun setting up ahead. All the while, she squinted through the sun's glare, hands white over the wheel. In a minute she would merge from the highway and in a few more, she'd be there. 

Amora would be at the place she knew too well; the same place she'd often go for solitude as a teenager. 

It was also the place she had vowed to never go again. 

Amora tapped a finger, deep in thought, then pulled out her phone. 

It went to voicemail, so she tried again. And again. Each time, her heart pounded harder than the last until, in a bout, she rolled down her window and chucked it outside. 

Amora narrowed her gaze. She was still far from sober, so she'd scold herself for it later. 

But right then her friend was all that mattered. 

Where's Mom when you need her? Amora gritted her teeth, then huffed. She wasn't likely to remember her nightmare, anyway. That would make things too easy. 

Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, she reminded herself. That was Murphy's law. 

Her life might as well be a book. It had everything a story needed: enough tragedy for a lifetime. 

And this book, no matter how depressing it became,  couldn't be escaped. As with her mother picking up, that would only make things too easy. 

Instead, she was forced to endure. 

-

After merging from the highway, Amora finally pulled over, hand to stomach. As she vomited, head poking from her lowered window, she reflected on everything that had gone wrong; everything that should had been common sense.

Like cleaning up the broken glass. Like... checking in on her friend. 

After leaving her mother, rather than going straight to Willow, she had gone home. Once again, Amora just cared too much. She should have put her feelings aside and done what was right, this time more than any other. 

It was likely too late now. 

No, she concluded, it is. 

When she finished vomiting, then dry-heaving, she sobbed, head against the wheel. Alcohol had always made her depressed, but it was more than that. Moments later, though, she wiped at her face, looking ahead. 

Whatever she'd find, it had to be done. Amora couldn't just stop here. 

She would do it for Willow. 

-

As the school came into view, she exhaled heavily and pulled into the empty parking lot. 

The lake was just behind, out of sight. 

Walking past the building, Amora hugged herself, following the pebbled path. It was just as she remembered: the strew of trees ahead, tall, sturdy and perfect for solitude, the short-stubbed bushes lining the path, each a rich green, the distant scurrying of tiny critters...

But when she heard the gentle splatter up ahead, Amora stopped in her tracks. 

It was time. 

Hey there, I hope you liked this chapter! Pieces of the puzzle are starting to come together, one chapter at a time. <3 Anyway, if you've got any thoughts, I'd love to know!

We shall resume our interrogation:

1) Do you play any instruments? If so, which one(s)?

2) Students, how are you feeling about the coming school year?

Well, I guess that's everything! I hope you're well and God bless. <3