She scrolled on her phone for a bit, her finger hesitating for the briefest of moments over Paul’s phone number. He wouldn’t answer. She knew that. She had hurt him too bad. And Justin, well she had woken up to a three-minute slew of cuss words and empty threats on her voicemail that she had deleted. And one check of her social media disclosed he had blocked her on every platform. There was really nothing she could say to repair that damage, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. Maybe it was best to just let both of them go. She had too much on her plate right now anyway.

Deciding there was no point in waiting any longer, Deven climbed from the car and headed to the apartment. It felt different this time, coming back alone to Kennedy’s residence. The last visit, she had Benji there to assuage her discomfort. But now, making the journey up those familiar steps was unnerving. As if on cue, a chill ran up her spine and Deven spun in place, expecting to see someone following her. But there was no one, at least no one she could see. She picked up the pace, fumbling with the keys and rushing inside, slamming the door behind her.

Everything still looked the same, as if the apartment had been frozen in happier times. Cold bit her face as she blew warmth into her freezing hands and Deven wandered to the thermostat. Sixty-eight degrees. She pressed the touchpad to turn on the heat, listening for the hum of the heater. She would have to make a point to call the power, well all of Kennedy’s utilities, to make sure they were turned off. She’d been so focused on everything else that it hadn’t even crossed her mind until now to take care of her sister’s affairs. The thought brought on a feeling of déjà vu, and Deven remembered having to conduct this same business when her father passed. Her mother just wasn’t prepared with the knowledge, nor the mental capacity, to handle it. And here she was again, in the same boat. Unless she found something that said otherwise, Deven had to assume the worst. Which made her even more determined during this second search of Kennedy’s apartment. There had to be something here. It just had to be.

More focused, Deven peeled out of her jacket and marched to Kennedy’s bedroom. Since she found the picture of Paul here last time, she would start where she left off. Deven pulled open the nightstand drawer, shuffling through its contents. Nothing else suspicious, thankfully. Selfies of Kennedy and Benji, a few pictures of couples Deven assumed were friends, and some old holiday greeting cards. She nudged the drawer closed and tried the other nightstand, just to be sure she hadn’t missed anything.