Ian is giving me a freaking whiplash.

One minute he’s calm, and the next he’s literally growling, ready to throw a spear through me to get rid of me once and for all.

I think I’ve read The Hunger Games too many times.

“Ah, Ella! So very nice to see you!” a familiar voice booms, and I groan silently to myself. It is Mr. Rollo, the loser of a lawyer. “You look very lovely,” he says kindly, taking my hand. “Come, come! You’re to sit on the right side of Ian, are you not?”

Ian rolls his eyes at me, and I giggle. I guess he’s not a fan of Mr. Rollo either.

“Well, Mike should be coming with the hamburgers and hot dogs soon,” Mrs. Sparrow says. “We can all just… chat for now.” She smiles cheerily, and I try to swallow my water.

“Ella! Manners,” my father hisses. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Ian, and he starts chuckling. “I’m glad to see you think it’s funny, kid, but if she acts like that at your wedding, it’s your grave.” Of course, that makes me start laughing as well. “Hey! Stop laughing!”

I roll my eyes. My father can be so strange sometimes.

“Burgers! Get your burgers!” says someone in a masculine voice. Then, a man about the age of forty-five runs from the grill to the table, holding a platter of steaming burgers and hot dogs. “Dig in!” I’m assuming that is Mr. Sparrow. Lovely.

I eagerly grab two hamburgers and the ketchup. I dig in immediately, but I stop after a few bites because Dad gives me one of those looks again. You know, the ones parents always do. I sigh and begin to use silverware. Maybe afterward I should lick my plate clean just to bug him.

“So, Ella.” Mr. Rollo’s eyes gleam. “How do you feel about getting married?”

I give him a reproachful look. “If it’s what my grandmother wishes, I will go through with this marriage. After all, that was the only thing she requested I do in her will.”

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Rollo says, taking a bite into his hot dog. Gosh, that sounds wrong, but I manage not to laugh. I bite my lip while my dad speaks.

“Mr. Rollo, I understand you were my mother’s lawyer for a long time.”

“Indeed,” he says. I stifle my giggles. Who says ‘indeed’ anymore?

“Are you taking her death as hard as we are? Were you two close?”

I think I see Mr. Rollo smirk, but the next second he shakes his head in a pitiful way. “She felt like my own mother… I think anyone who knew her would mourn her loss… Speaking of which, Ian? Where’s Janie?”

Ian dabs his mouth with a napkin (wow, he’s polite!). “She couldn’t make it. Grandmother is helping with the arrangements for Loretta’s wedding.”

I gulp loudly, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “Oh.”

Ian nods sadly. “Yeah. Loretta was her best friend.”

Mr. Rollo shakes his head again. “What a pity… Loretta was very young, only seventy! She died of natural causes, did she not?”

My dad sighs. “I think you’re mistaken, Mr. Rollo.”

“Please, call me Vincent.”

“Vincent,” my dad says, “that’s how the doctors originally thought how she died. However, I received a phone call just today from the funeral home. I haven’t even told Ella yet.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh? What’s the matter?”

Dad sighs. “My mom didn’t die of natural causes. She was murdered.”

***

“Ella? Are you okay?”

I ignore my dad while I weep into one of the towels in the bathroom. It is very soft and absorbent. Perfect. I can say I took a shower.

Wait, I’d need water in the tub. Damn, Dad, go away so I can start the water.

“Ella, open the door, please!” my dad says desperately. “I know it’s shocking, but there’s nothing you could have done! Police are trying to find the murderer… Ella, open the door!”

“I’m peeing,” I say stubbornly, wiping away my tears. “It’s that time of the month.”

“Oh, uh, I’ll, uh, leave you to your… business.” I hear my dad’s footsteps as he walks away. I sigh. I don’t want my dad to hear me cry or even know that I was crying. He’d take me to counseling for sure, and quite honestly the old man has enough on his own plate.

Ever since Evan, my boyfriend since seventh grade, broke up with me last year, I became this… this freak show of showing off and such. The attention Evan gave me was something I loved, that I became obsessed with getting it again. Usually, I did.

Until I met Ian.

Pulling out my phone, I punch in my best friend’s number and wait for her to pick up. Susan almost always picks up. She knows that when I call, it is most likely an emergency, or I really need to talk to her.

“Hello? Ella?” I smile when she says my name. “Ella, what’s wrong?”

“Well… nothing.”

“Don’t lie to your BFF, Ella,” Susan growls playfully. She also has a nervous tone to her voice though.

I roll my eyes and giggle. “Fine, fine. I just want t-to… talk about my fiancée! Uh-huh!” Phew. I don’t think I could talk about Grandma without breaking down. I shake my head. That’s not in your mind right now. You are talking to Susan.

“Oh! Sure! So, what’s he like?” On her end, it sounds like she sits down for a long conversation. “Is he hot? Gorgeous? Muscular?”

“Um… yeah, he’s pretty good looking. He does look like he works out and… yeah.”

Susan squeals. “Oh, how I wish I were you! Can I come over and meet him sometime?”

“Of course, Susan! The engagement party is in a week,” I say matter-of-factly. “If my best friend didn’t come, I’d be totally offended!” We both burst out laughing for about two minutes before it goes silent on the other side of the line.

“Um… Ella?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… there’s something I have to tell you.” I picture her biting her lip nervously. She always does that when she delivers bad news.

Cautiously, I say, “What, Susan?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, but… I’m dating Evan now.”