I tried not to stare as I saw Emily get out of her car and walk towards the entrance

of the small cafe I was sitting in.

I'd been more than a decade since I'd seen her, even longer since we'd had a proper conversation.

Like I mentioned in my previous entry, witnessing Jeremy's death drove a wedge between us.

After the water tank incident, we barely spoke and only saw each other in court or a sheriff's

office.

But when she contacted me out of the blue last week, asking me to come back to Paraske and

help her dig into the mystery around Jeremy's death.

I knew I couldn't refuse.

There was still questions neither of us had the answers to.

As Emily opened the cafe's front door, the small bell hung above it, signaling her arrival,

it couldn't help but feel anxious.

I didn't know how much she would feel comfortable talking about Jeremy, given that the last time

I spoke to her, she blamed herself.

For a brief second, Emily scanned the room before her eyes fell on me.

A matter of gaze giving her a little wave.

She gave me a small smile and walked over.

Her hair had been dyed red and cut short, but her outfits still reminded me of the

Emily I remembered.

She wore grace, guinea jeans, a black kill switch engaged tea, a pair of white vans.

She had a laptop bag slung over her shoulder and had to go coffee cup already in her hand.

I awkwardly stood up as she approached the table, not really decided on whether to go in

...