LYN

The weight on my chest had eased when I walked out of the forest, my bag heavier than it had been before and my pants smudged with dirt from kneeling on the ground. It felt like I’d been under the welcoming branches of the trees for hours; keeping track of time always felt unimportant when I was absorbed in the forest. It was a bad habit. A quick glance at my phone showed it had been almost an hour, and that I was running late, due to help out at my mom’s shop in the afternoon. Cursing under my breath, I shoved my hands in my pockets and put my head down, hoping I wouldn’t run into any more trouble on my way to fetch my bike from the rack in the campus courtyard.

Thankfully, with classes in session, there were few people braving the cold air for a break. Digging my headphones out of the mess of my bag, I collected my bike and turned it toward the familiar roads to my mom’s store. It was pleasantly normal after my chaotic morning, and my mood lifted as I crossed the boundary from campus grounds into the small town that surrounded it. The town streets were quiet, without the bustle of campus, and I hardly ever ran into anybody on my trip home. The emptiness made me uneasy at times, but it was better than the staring and whispered rumors.

The sight of the familiar red door, the only polished paint on the street, brought a real smile to my face. I chained my bike to the bar my mom had installed on the weathered exterior wall, pulling the band out of my hair to work my wind-mussed hair back into order before I pulled open the door to the shop. Bells chimed to signal my entrance, the sound as warm as the light lavender scent from the incense that burned at the front counter.

“Merry meet!” My mom looked away from her work with the usual cheerful greeting. Her hair was dark and thick like mine, tied back messily with loose curls brushing across her forehead. There were smudges of dirt and ground herbs on her face and apron, and her glasses perched precariously low on her nose. Her eyes lit up when she realized it was me, and she turned away from the grinding wheel to cup my face in herb-stained hands. “You’re late! I thought you got lost.”

I grinned at her teasing words, finding it easier to forget the morning’s troubles when I laughed with her. “Never. I took a walk, and I brought you something.”

“Oh, how thoughtful!” She stepped back, grasping the bottom corners of her apron and holding them up to make a sort of makeshift basket. I’d been journeying into the woods since I was little, and my explorations always turned up something useful.

I happily emptied my forages from the forest for her. “I found a whole patch of yarrow on my way back, and I remembered we were running low. I can get more if you need it.”

“You’re such a good boy.” She patted my arm, realizing her mistake quickly when sprigs of yarrow tumbled from her sagging apron.

I chuckled lightly, picking them up to throw them back in the pile. “I’ll watch the front if you want to get them stored. Were you grinding medicine?”

She nodded, explaining where she’d been in the sore stomach cure she’d been making for one of the regulars. I took over the grinding for her; it was much easier for me, my wrists not giving way after years of hard work, and I was pouring the herbal mix into a small paper envelope marked with the customer’s name when the bells chimed again.

My greeting died before it could pass my lips, my heart dropping. I couldn’t remember seeing police in my mom’s store before, at least not in uniform. We knew several of them, but I had a sick feeling this wasn’t another social call. I swallowed hard, putting the envelope down on the counter gingerly. Doing my best to look small and harmless, I smiled at the officer. “Merry meet. Can I help you with anything, or are you here to browse?” I asked, hoping my suspicions were wrong, and the officer was just stopping by on a break.

I recognized the policeman as he removed his hat, his face looking apologetic and displeased.

My breath pulled in sharply. This wasn’t a social call after all. “Oh…hello, Mr. Stewart.”

“Hi there, Lyn. I'm sorry to have to call on you like this,” he said, sighing. “I'm sure you know why I'm here. And I don’t want to do this, Lyn, but I have to bring you in for questioning about Collin Harley's disappearance.”

I took a step back, knowing my disbelief was clear as I stared at him. “Because of the news article? Or did you get another complaint that I looked at somebody and they got the sniffles?” I shook my head. “You know I have nothing to do with this, don’t you?”

He brushed a hand through his light brown hair, looking uncomfortable. “Listen, Lyn, I'm just doing my job. This isn’t just a case of illness. The fact is that a student is missing, and you were there the last night he was seen.” He took a step forward, lowering his voice. “Look. You're not being arrested, I have no reason to believe you had anything to do with this, okay? We just need to ask you some questions to rule out anything.”

My voice was stuck behind the lump in my throat, disbelief curdling with anger. I couldn’t blame Officer Stewart—of all the officers I had dealt with, he was the most pleasant, and he was always on my side. He probably thought the complaints were as ridiculous as I did. But there was a difference between laughing over a complaint of a nonexistent hex doll and being dragged to the station over a student’s disappearance.

“Lyn?” My mother’s voice cut the tense silence and made me jump; I hadn’t noticed her coming out of the storage room. She put her hand on my shoulder as she came to my side, her grip tight. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked at Officer Stewart, reading the tension in the room. “Is there a problem here, officer?”

He cleared his throat, sighing as he said, “No, ma’am, we just need to bring Lyn to the station to ask him a few questions.”

The shop door opened as a second officer, who had been watching from outside the small store, entered. He gave me a look, silently questioning why Officer Stewart was taking so long. His impatience made my mom step forward, frowning at him. “For what, exactly? My son has put up with enough of your questions-”

“Mum,” I spoke softly, pulling her back. “It’s okay. I can handle this myself. I don’t want any trouble. I’ll be back in time to help lock up the shop.”

She turned her glare on me, and I knew she was burning to tear into the officers. She’d helped me through the beginning of what she considered harassment. Most of the time she was far less patient than I was. “Lyn—”

I shook my head before she could start. “Please don’t make it worse. I haven’t done anything wrong, no matter what people are saying about me. They don’t have any reason to keep me there, and I don’t want to give them one.”

That seemed to settle my mother, though the heat had only built in the glare she gave the officers. She muttered a few nasty words under her breath before she waved toward the door. I gave her a relieved smile before turning to the waiting officers, trying not to meet the gaze of the impatient one I didn’t recognize. “Lead the way. I’ll answer any questions you have for me.”

Officer Stewart held the store door open for me, smiling slightly with a look of gratitude. “I am sorry Lyn. We'll make this as quick as possible.”

Though I’d settled myself with going to the station, I hadn’t considered how it would feel to have them flank me as they walked me outside and shut me in the back of the patrol car. I could keenly feel the curious gazes of people on the street. Shame heated my face, and I put my head down. The rumors were going to be worse than ever if anybody on campus heard I’d been picked up by the police. And even though I knew they had nothing on me, it felt like I’d done something wrong and I’d be shut in a cell as they pulled away from the curb.

The feeling settled cold and heavy in my chest after the short drive to the station; it must have been standard procedure, but I felt like a criminal as they walked me inside. The interview room they took me to was cold and sterile, with a steel table with a couple of metal chairs in the center of the otherwise empty, white tiled floor. After confirming that I knew my rights, Officer Stewart gestured for me to sit in the chair opposite to him. He sat in front of what I knew was a one-sided mirror. I tried not to let the artificial chill get to me.

“So,” I cleared my throat, trying to smile, to look like I wasn’t shaken; that was probably the point of the room, to set people’s nerves on edge and provoke confessions. “What questions can I answer for you?”

“Well, why don't we start with you telling me what you remember from that night,” Officer Stewart said, his tone calm and genuine.

I took in a deep breath before nodding. “It was a rough day, so I went out drinking at the local pub. I was alone, and not looking to interact with anybody else—I just wanted a quiet drink.” Of course, that never worked out when people noticed me, especially people like Collin. It had been stupid to drink in public, at a pub close to campus, but all I had been thinking about was a break after a long day; not who would harass me. I tried not to sound frustrated as I recalled the shattering of my plans, but the officer’s sympathetic look said I didn’t manage to contain it completely. “It’s not uncommon for other students from the college to get…worked up around me. It was clear they wanted me to leave, so I tried to. Collin was yelling, and he got in my way.”

Officer Stewart raised a brow at my wording but didn’t interrupt me.

I winced as I remembered the people staring at us while Collin waved his arms and shouted. There had been eyes on us as he squared up to me. It was a good thing I’d kept my calm that night, and there was nothing I’d said that could be taken as a threat. “Another student, Oliver, convinced him to let me leave. They were all still there when I left.” I doubted they would be calling everybody who had been at the bar—nobody else’s name had been splashed on the papers—but I didn’t want my story to be different if they did. “I stayed outside for a little, trying to clear my head before I walked home. But I didn’t stay long, because it was already late, and I had to work in the morning.”

“What about anyone else? Did you see anyone leave the bar around the same time as you?” the officer asked, jotting down everything I had said.

I nodded, my hands pressing into my lap. “Yes, somebody left right after I did. He wasn’t one of the students who were harassing me,” I paused, remembering how calm he’d seemed compared to Collin’s chaos. The first time I had met his eyes across the bar, he’d seemed curious, a quiet point in the middle of the students working each other up. “We saw each other from across the street, before he headed back to campus, and I walked back to my flat.”

The officer looked up, his eyes curious, “Does this guy have a name?”

“It’s Ethan…Ethan Lennox.” I hesitated, wondering if I should tell him that Ethan had recognized me when he walked into the classroom. After a moment of thought, I decided it wasn’t important. He’d been nice despite my snapping, and no matter how worried I had been that he might help bring my world crashing down around me, the earnest look in those hazel eyes as he told me he wouldn’t bring me any trouble stayed with me.

Clearing my throat, I laced my fingers together, trying to keep my thoughts on the officer who was watching me carefully. “He was the only one I saw. The rest of them probably stayed a lot longer.”

The officer made a note, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. “What do you know about this guy? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“He’s a transfer student.” I answered with a shrug. “He’s stirred up campus because he’s new and foreign, but he seems normal.” I wondered what that answer was based on. I didn’t know anything about him other than his name and one of the classes he took. But I had always been a good judge of character, and I trusted my instincts.

Scribbling more frantic notes, his face calm and firm, the officer finally looked up at me. “And you’re sure that's everything. There’s nothing you left out that you recall? You never saw Collin after that encounter?”

“I’m sure,” I replied firmly. “I went straight home that night; Collin has a room in the dorms, so I wouldn’t run into him even if he left right after I did. And he didn’t show up on campus the next morning. I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I can help you—I don’t know anything.” Hands spread in front of me, a silent plea of innocence, I hoped I had said enough.

The officer sighed, nodding. His chair scraped across the floor as he stood and collected his notebook, looking at me with resignation. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Weir. I apologize for the inconvenience to you and your mother. I do hope this will be the last of our meetings on this matter.” He paused for a moment, looking down at the reflections on the metal table. “And Mr. Weir, do be careful.”

I blinked at him, taken aback. It wasn’t the first warning of the day. “I will. Thank you, Officer Stewart.” I stood up, giving the officer a weary smile. We were both glad to walk out of the room, and a little of the weight was lifted off my chest as I was directed out of the station and sent on my way home.

Keeping my head down, I started the walk home, trying to shake off the embarrassment- and the lingering feeling that this was only the beginning. I was used to the trouble, but it felt like things were escalating far past where I could control. And for the first time, as I walked alone with the events of the last couple of days weighing on my mind, I wondered if I was the one who should be afraid.