Page 26 of The Unbecoming

The shrill scream that comes out of me grabs everyone’s attention, but it’s all spilling out so fast that I can’t breathe.

Alex is now lying on a gurney. His body is in a bag, but it’s not shut. His eyes are wide open, and his throat is slashed so deeply that his head nearly looks severed. His chest is covered in blood.

My body is numb and cold, and my hysteria is starting to draw a crowd. I can’t stop looking at him.

I did this.

I killed him.

Me.

All he did was care about me.

That’s all.

This is my fault.

I just wanted one night.

One goddamn night of peace.

He didn’t deserve this.

I don’t know how to live with myself now.

I don’t want to live with myself.

Someone leads me away from the crowd, but I don’t know who. I am sobbing to the point that I can’t see or think straight. My legs are weak as I am walked somewhere.

“No, I’ve got her,” a man says. I am sitting in a vehicle, and it’s suddenly quiet. I am trying to get a hold of myself, but I can’t.

After a while, I calm down enough to wipe my face and look over at the man. “I am Detective Ricky Birch,” he says softly. “What’s your name?”

“Nora,” I sniffle. “Nora Bennett.”

“Did you know him?”

“Y-Yeah,” I whimper. “He uh… He was at my apartment last night.”

“Until when?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I told him he couldn’t stay the night. He stayed until I fell asleep, but that’s all I know. I woke up and texted him… But he never… He didn’t read it… I was coming out to get breakfast and… Fuck, I just wanted to see him again.”

“Was he your boyfriend?” he asks gently.

“No. Just my friend,” I say, dropping my head to look at my hands. “I told him it could just be a one-night stand… And he respected that… He wanted to stay…”

“Where is your apartment?”

“It’s the Greenwood Building,” I say. “The app I can use to unlock my door logs when I use it, but I don’t know if it logs everything.”

“Would you be willing to give us access?” he asks.

“Absolutely,” I say. “I-I can write down the log-in. It’s apartment 403.”

“Do you know if he has any enemies?” Detective Birch asks.

“No. Everyone loved him. He was nice to everyone,” I say. “He was having a party at his frat house last night, like he always does on the weekends. I went to see him. I don’t usually go, but anyone there will tell you he’s just a really good guy.”