some girl he didn't know from Eden. I didn't hate him for it; I could understand that need for self-preservation.
But Jimmy didn't know everything about me. Yeah, I wasn't used to this whole studying thing, but that didn't mean I was stupid. I understood the depth of power I was going to be playing with, and if I did this wrong, I could end up buried… but my rationale still held. A girl was dead and I didn't believe she deserved to die, and if I went the same way, I would want someone to do it for me.
Back in Virginia when I had been over my head, someone had stuck their neck out on the line to lend me a helping hand. They didn't have to, but because they did I was still alive today. It was a debt I couldn't repay and they hadn't wanted payment anyways. That kind of self-sacrifice was something I had never seen before and probably wasn't likely to see again.
I would have never done that before. Help someone who was drowning in their own mistakes, diving in without thought to make sure they made it out just because it was the right thing to do. It was a dimension of being human that I had never known before, simply doing the right thing just because it was right.
It needed to be done slowly, because in many ways Jimmy was correct about the situation. It would be beyond me to go charging in and demanding answers expecting to come out of it alive. I had to play it smart. If I did it right, hopefully, I would be able to help put a dead girl to peace.
111
There are certain moments in all our lives that pass us by without seeming significant at the time. Later, sometimes very much so, in an instant of reminiscence we realize that those moments have defined our lives in a way we could never imagine at the time.
It could be a certain person met on a certain day, one that may turn into a lifelong friend or lifelong enemy. It could also be some decision or small epiphany, a thing of little consequence that turned out to be earth-shattering later. We don't know the ramifications of our actions sometimes until years later.
Emily's memorial service contained several such moments for me.
It took place in the huge courtyard located in the very center of campus, less than a hundred feet from the UGL and various other buildings. The large fountain that ran all summer and into the fall had been turned off and a stage had been erected at the forefront of the courtyard. Rows upon rows of somber grey chairs had been shoved together as close as possible to face the platform, which was occupied by several people of noticeable importance.
I recognized Dean Strauss, bespectacled and bow-tied, he seemed different out of his usual brown tweed, which he had replaced with a more suitable black formal jacket, leaving him looking like a particularly old teenager attending prom. I vaguely recognized a few of the others, the man in the middle was President Allen, and I think one of the older women next to him was a Dean as well. That pretty much summed up my weak knowledge of my school's staff.
For someone playing at detective, I wasn't very good at learning stuff that was probably important.
A well-dressed couple seemed set apart from the others at the corner of the platform, despite the fact that the stage chairs were placed at neat equal distances in a single row. I recognized after a moment it was the pure sincerity of the grief they portrayed that set them apart. The woman was leaning against the man, whose dark eyes stared off into space, looking at nothing in particular. That was not to say that the others weren't looking somber, but their faces lacked the depth of sorrow that these two had.
She looks like Emily, I thought, staring at the trembling woman who was unaware of my gaze. They could only be her parents.
Jimmy and I had come together and took seats near the back when we couldn't immediately spot Nishi or Eliza, though he kept peering around at the various students, no doubt looking for a sign of Nishi's straight black hair
But Jimmy didn't know everything about me. Yeah, I wasn't used to this whole studying thing, but that didn't mean I was stupid. I understood the depth of power I was going to be playing with, and if I did this wrong, I could end up buried… but my rationale still held. A girl was dead and I didn't believe she deserved to die, and if I went the same way, I would want someone to do it for me.
Back in Virginia when I had been over my head, someone had stuck their neck out on the line to lend me a helping hand. They didn't have to, but because they did I was still alive today. It was a debt I couldn't repay and they hadn't wanted payment anyways. That kind of self-sacrifice was something I had never seen before and probably wasn't likely to see again.
I would have never done that before. Help someone who was drowning in their own mistakes, diving in without thought to make sure they made it out just because it was the right thing to do. It was a dimension of being human that I had never known before, simply doing the right thing just because it was right.
It needed to be done slowly, because in many ways Jimmy was correct about the situation. It would be beyond me to go charging in and demanding answers expecting to come out of it alive. I had to play it smart. If I did it right, hopefully, I would be able to help put a dead girl to peace.
111
There are certain moments in all our lives that pass us by without seeming significant at the time. Later, sometimes very much so, in an instant of reminiscence we realize that those moments have defined our lives in a way we could never imagine at the time.
It could be a certain person met on a certain day, one that may turn into a lifelong friend or lifelong enemy. It could also be some decision or small epiphany, a thing of little consequence that turned out to be earth-shattering later. We don't know the ramifications of our actions sometimes until years later.
Emily's memorial service contained several such moments for me.
It took place in the huge courtyard located in the very center of campus, less than a hundred feet from the UGL and various other buildings. The large fountain that ran all summer and into the fall had been turned off and a stage had been erected at the forefront of the courtyard. Rows upon rows of somber grey chairs had been shoved together as close as possible to face the platform, which was occupied by several people of noticeable importance.
I recognized Dean Strauss, bespectacled and bow-tied, he seemed different out of his usual brown tweed, which he had replaced with a more suitable black formal jacket, leaving him looking like a particularly old teenager attending prom. I vaguely recognized a few of the others, the man in the middle was President Allen, and I think one of the older women next to him was a Dean as well. That pretty much summed up my weak knowledge of my school's staff.
For someone playing at detective, I wasn't very good at learning stuff that was probably important.
A well-dressed couple seemed set apart from the others at the corner of the platform, despite the fact that the stage chairs were placed at neat equal distances in a single row. I recognized after a moment it was the pure sincerity of the grief they portrayed that set them apart. The woman was leaning against the man, whose dark eyes stared off into space, looking at nothing in particular. That was not to say that the others weren't looking somber, but their faces lacked the depth of sorrow that these two had.
She looks like Emily, I thought, staring at the trembling woman who was unaware of my gaze. They could only be her parents.
Jimmy and I had come together and took seats near the back when we couldn't immediately spot Nishi or Eliza, though he kept peering around at the various students, no doubt looking for a sign of Nishi's straight black hair
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