Chapter 2: Chapter 2 : Staten Island

Chapter 2: Staten Island

Mia POV

I shut my eyes as the sounds of the NYPD precinct waiting room buzzed around me. I took some deep breaths as the middle-aged woman at the front desk instructed me to, but it seemed to be doing little to calm my nerves.

All the exercise was doing was making me very aware of my own warm, living body while Abbie’s was cold, unmoving, and probably alone in some dark room somewhere.

I shivered and opened my eyes, immediately averting them to the floor so no one could see how red-rimmed they likely were. I didn’t know how I was going to get through this interview. I felt numb all over.

I watched shiny black shoes appear once in a while as cops walked casually by, unaware of the mental breakdown that was occurring.

I stood up, heading toward the water dispenser, hoping that drinking something would help stop the shaking. I’d only taken a couple of steps before I bumped into a warm, firm body. Before I could tell who, a large hand wrapped around my upper arm, keeping me upright.

“Are you alright, miss?”

The man’s voice was somehow gruff and gentle. I opened my mouth to thank him and was only vaguely aware of a pair of dark brown eyes and tanned skin as he helped me back into my seat. A wave of nausea fell over me and I shut my eyes again, willing myself not to throw up.

Finally, I was escorted from the busy waiting area into a clean, quiet room. The bright, fluorescent lighting did little to help my nerves, but I was relieved to be away from all the eyes.

A cop with short, dark wavy hair stood and offered me a seat directly across from his wooden desk.

“Miss Grimaldi?” he said as I sat in the padded seat.

“Mia,” I said weakly.

“Mia, then,” he said, but not unkindly. He seemed strict, but his hazel eyes were warm. He sat in his leather rolling chair. “I’m Officer Williams. I understand that you were Ms. Fendley’s roommate?”

I sucked in a breath. “She was my best friend.” My voice broke and I swallowed with difficulty.

Officer Williams nodded. “I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely. He paused briefly before continuing, all business. “To your knowledge, did Ms. Fendley have a partner or anyone she was having personal issues with?”

I shook my head, my teeth chattering. “She didn’t have a boyfriend or anything that I know of.”

Officer Williams asked a few more questions and while he was kind enough, he seemed unaware that I was falling apart inside. With each question, the gravity of what had happened pressed on me even more.

Abbie was gone. She wasn’t coming back. I would never see her again.

“Please,” I said, my voice cracking. I could feel my eyes well up with tears. “Please, Officer Williams. I just want to go home.”

Officer Williams nodded once, pushing his notes aside. “While I wish that was possible, your apartment is an active crime scene at the moment. Do you have anywhere else you can go?”

I winced but nodded. I had just one other option. I hadn’t been to Staten Island since I left to study at Julliard when I was sixteen. After Dad died, I lived with my stepmother and two stepsisters for a full year until I could move into the residence hall at Julliard. It had been the worst year of my life.

My stepmother’s cruel waiting eyes and sneer filled my mind and I felt tears roll down my cheeks.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see that Officer Williams was now beside me, patting my back comfortingly.

“You’re going to be alright,” he soothed. “An officer has been assigned to you as an escort to take you back to your apartment so you can gather your belongings. Thank you for taking the time to come in to answer questions, Miss Grimaldi.”

I nodded once, not trusting myself to speak anymore, and showed myself out. Another officer stood just outside the door, clearly waiting for me. It took me a moment to place him as the young officer I had bumped into earlier.

He nodded and smiled at me, his dark brown eyes filled with a melancholy understanding.

***

I had partially calmed down during the drive back to the apartment, the quiet humming of Officer Jack Drake’s police cruiser and the moonlight-colored street lights casting rays through the window brought my heart rate down to a normal level.

Any remnants of calm were completely gone when we climbed the stairs to the fifteenth floor. The apartment was chaotic, cops were everywhere, taking pictures and surveying various parts of the small space. It made the home seem even tinier than it was.

I stayed close to Officer Drake, feeling small and like I was going to pass out at any moment. After speaking to a couple of other officers, he led me to the bedroom, the one I had shared with Abbie.

It was exactly as I had left it that morning, the contrast of it to the living room strange and kind of disturbing.

Officer Drake stood politely in the doorway as I moved through the small bedroom as if in a trance. I grabbed a large duffle bag from the closet and started to stuff things into it, trying not to let my eyes linger on any of Abbie’s things.

That proved difficult since my best friend hadn’t been the neatest person. Her clothes were strewn everywhere, her bed messy and unmade, covered in stuffed toys she’d had since childhood.

I didn’t grab much, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. I took just a couple of outfits, toiletries, my ballet bag, and some jewelry that belonged to my mother.

I stood frozen in front of the vanity that Abbie and I had shared, looking at the pictures that were taped to the mirror. One was of Abbie and me at a rock concert the day after we graduated. Another one featured Abbie covered in flour after a baking incident. There was even one taken just days earlier of the two of us throwing up peace signs in front of the dance studio.

I felt my throat tighten as I ripped them off the mirror and put them carefully into an envelope, slipping them into a side pocket on my duffel.

I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t alone and snuck a glance at Officer Drake, who nodded politely at me when we made eye contact. His expression was unreadable as I slung the duffel onto my shoulder.

I felt my face heat up under his gaze. “She was my best friend.” I wasn’t sure why I suddenly felt the need to say something to him.

He nodded. “I’m so sorry, Miss Grimaldi.”

The condolences made my eyes water. I swallowed. “Mia.”

“Mia,” he repeated. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s only fair that you call me Jack, instead of Officer Drake.”

I gave him a small smile before my phone rang, loud and shrill, making me jump.

I read the name and pressed the phone to my ear. “Michael … ”

“Mia, what’s going on?” my choreographer demanded. “There are a bunch of cops at the studio asking about Abigail. Did something happen?”

I felt my chest tighten at the sound of my best friend’s name. Hearing it in the familiar voice of the man that had known me since I was a teenager made it even more difficult to handle emotionally.

“Abbie … ” I managed to say before I started to sob. I could barely finish but forced myself to explain in as few words as possible, sobbing harder once I was done.

“Shit,” Michael said in shock.

I felt my chest tighten as I continued to cry, starting to gasp a bit. Michael started muttering words I couldn’t make out. My sobs cut off when I felt the weight of my duffel bag disappear.

I looked up just in time to see Officer Drake slinging it over his shoulder, giving me a soft, sympathetic smile. I tried to smile back, but it felt like more of a grimace.

“This is going to look so bad,” Michael muttered. Then louder, he snapped into the phone, “You realize that the producers are going to want to speak with you, right? This is really bad press.” I couldn’t even fully process what he was saying and stayed silent, sniffling pathetically.

“Shit, Mia, I’m sorry,” Michael gasped suddenly. I wasn’t sure if I had ever heard him swear before. He lowered his voice. “Are you doing alright? Where are you?”

I bit my lip. “I have to go,” I said, hanging up before he could respond and gritting my teeth together as I started to shake once again.

I lowered myself to the floor, onto my knees, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, finally welcoming the cries that seemed to wrack through my whole body. It was far too much, being surrounded by all her things, realizing fully for the first time that she really wasn’t coming back.

I stayed on the floor of the bedroom that I had shared with my best friend for quite a while. I was vaguely aware of my legs going numb. Eventually, I felt a gentle hand squeeze my shoulder.

Officer Drake frowned, concern swimming in his eyes. He didn’t speak, just gripped my shoulder in a reassuring way.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to squeak, standing. The pins and needles from sitting on my legs caused me to lose my balance, but he was quick to steady me, just as he had back at the police station.

“Don’t apologize,” he ordered. He shook his head, seeming frustrated with himself. “You’ve been through a lot. You have nothing to apologize for.”

I looked down at the floor, having no response to that. “I’m ready to go.”

He shifted my duffel bag on his shoulder before locking eyes with me. “You sure?”

I nodded and he led me through the chaotic living room and out the front door. I kept my eyes forward, trying not to look around the blood-stained space. We headed down the stairwell in silence, Officer Drake matching my zombie-like speed.

He seemed to understand that I didn’t want to talk. I wouldn’t have been able to hold a coherent conversation even if I had wanted to. It took all the strength I had to make it down the multiple flights of stairs.

“Where would you like me to take you now?” he asked as we neared the bottom of the complex.

“The ferry, please,” I said tonelessly.

I was resigned to my fate now. It wasn’t as if I had anywhere else I could go and besides, nothing my stepmother could do to me now would feel worse than losing Abbie. I was quite certain of that fact.

She could throw me in the basement of my father’s estate with a bunch of flesh-eating rats and it would be welcomed compared to what I had already endured.

“The ferry,” Officer Drake couldn’t help but murmur with confusion. He looked like he wanted to ask, but he knew that he shouldn’t, and probably couldn’t. “Very well.”

It was at that moment that my phone rang a second time. My swollen eyes widened when I read the name on the screen. I answered the call, putting the phone to my ear reluctantly.

My stepmother’s voice was cold and lethal. “What did you do?” she growled.

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