Maria's Trust

I was trying to hide the fact that I had been crying and was on the verge of starting again. 

The policeman in front of me was watching me steadily, staring right at me but remaining silent. I looked down at the table and rubbed my arms. The air conditioner above me was blasting cold air right down the back of my shirt. The tarnished metal door to the interview room opened and a second policeman came in slowly, looking at the papers in his hand. He sat next to his partner and looked up at me. 

“So, Thomas, do you want to tell us where you were last Thursday?” he said.

“I already told you.” I muttered. “I was at home. You came to my house to tell me that Max was…,” my voice caught, and I had to stop talking. 

“Ah, yes,” the policeman said, looking at the papers. “Ok. then, what were you doing at home?” 

“Revising, I’ve got exams in a few weeks,” I said. 

“All night?” the other policeman said. “Exams aren’t until next month, seems odd for someone to be revising so hard already.” 

“I want to pass,” I said, still looking down. The policeman grunted but said nothing else. 

“All right, tell me then, if you were at home revising how was your car involved in an accident?” the second policeman said. “An accident that killed three people and put two others in a hospital?” 

“I already told you, I lent my car to Max,” I said. 

“It’s very trusting of you to lend your car out,” the policeman said. 

“I did it a lot, Max was on the insurance,” I said. “He always borrowed it, he was a good driver.” 

“Why did ly want your car that night?” 

“He was taking Emily out; she was getting stressed out with revision, so he wanted to give her a break. They were going to see a film.” I looked up, both policemen were leaning forward, I pushed my chair back a little. 

“Yes, Emily,” the second policeman said, looking at the papers again. “She was beautiful, don’t you think?” 

“What?” I said. 

“Emily, she was a pretty girl,” the policeman said. “Don’t you agree?” 

“I guess, she’s been our friend for years, since we were kids, I didn’t really notice. Why are you asking that?” 

“Calm down Thomas, it’s just a question,” the first policeman smiled at me. “You and Max… did you ever argue much? Argue about Emily, maybe?” 

“What?” I said. “What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“Well, Max was popular, everyone we’ve spoken to seems to think he’s the bee's knees. Popular, funny, pretty girlfriend. We’re just trying to see where you fit into Max’s life.” 

“We’ve been friends since we were five years old,” I said, frowning. “We went to the same schools, same college and now the same university. We grew up practically next door. We’ve always been together.” 

“But you’re not popular, or funny, or dating anyone,” the policeman said almost offhand. He didn’t look at me when he spoke, but the other one watched me like a hawk. 

“What?” I said. “What do you mean?” 

“Well everyone knows Max, but when we mentioned you, no one seemed to know who you were. Now if I’d been living in someone's shadow for as long as you have, I’d be resentful. If I saw Max coasting through life, getting all the friends, the girls, the success, I’d be jealous.” 

“But Max isn’t like that, he’s failing his classes. He was really worried about it. You make him sound like some made for TV movie jock, but he isn’t like that at all.” I said. “He’s a nice guy.” 

“So why’d you tamper with the brakes then?” the policeman asked. I choked on my breath. My throat closed up, and my eyes watered. It took me a minute to stop coughing, and when I did, I looked up.

“What?” I managed, my voice raw. 

“If Max was such a nice guy, why did you try to kill him?” the second policeman asked. “Did you think maybe Emily would be sad, so sad she’d turn to you for comfort?” 

“Or maybe you didn’t want Emily at all; maybe it was Max you wanted. If he was such a great guy, maybe it was Emily you wanted rid of. Is that it, Thomas? Did you want Max all to yourself, like the good old days?” 

“Someone tampered with the brakes?” I breathed. “But… but it was an accident.” 

“That’s not what forensics says,” the policeman said. “Report here says deliberate tampering.” 

“Someone tried to kill Max?” I said, a cold sensation crept up from my feet, spreading through my legs into my stomach where it turned into a solid ball of ice and kept going up. My chest went tight. 

“It’s not the most sophisticated job either, it was immediately obvious apparently.” The first policeman said. “A novice could have spotted it.” 

“Why would anyone…” I said, shaking. 

“That’s what we want to know, and you’re the only person we can see who would want Max dead.” 

“You think I killed Max?” I felt bile rise from the ice block in my stomach. “No!” 

“It’ll go easier on you if you admit it,” the second policeman said. “You can cut a deal…” 

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You can’t have any evidence that I did this.” 

“Whys that?” the policeman said. 

“Because I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t even know how to. I take my car to the garage every time the damn tires need changing, I couldn’t even change the bulb in the headlights. Max had to top up the oil, and even Emily had to fill up the window wiper fluid. I couldn’t have done this.” 

“You expect us to believe a smart kid like you couldn’t figure this out?” the policeman snorted. 

“There’s no evidence,” I said. “There can’t be.” 

“You already said that,” the first policeman looked smug. “We’re continuing our investigations. But it will be easier for you if you just admit it now.” 

“Am I under arrest?” I said.

“Not yet,” the first policeman growled. 

“Well then, I’d like to leave,” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. The policemen stood up, one held the door open and gestured for me to go. 

“Off you go, but don’t skip town,” he said firmly. 

“I’ve no intention to,” I said, and all but ran out of the door. 

I stopped to catch my breath in the reception area and sat down for when my legs shook. They really thought I might have done this? That I would try to hurt Max? I glanced at the coffee table covered in old magazines, today's paper sat in pride of place on top of the pile, I picked it up. The accident wasn’t front page news anymore; they had moved it to page six. “Three dead and two injured in Accident.” the faces of three people stared at me from directly under the headline. A middle-aged man and a toddler I didn’t know, the newspaper called them Jerry and George Baker. Emily’s high school graduation picture stared at me from next to them. She had died instantly. A little further down the page was a picture of a middle-aged woman, Sandra Baker, and next to her was Max, full name Maximillian Jones. They’d used Max’s high school graduation picture. He grinned up at me, looking for the entire world like the perfect kid. All smiles and untapped potential. I closed the paper and stood up, blinking rapidly to clear my eyes. 

I walked out to the car park and over to my mum's car. I slid into the passenger seat and let out a long breath. 

“More questions?” mum said. “You should have let me come in with you.” 

“I’m not a minor, mum they would have made you wait in the waiting room. At least it’s warm in the car.”

“More of the same questions?” she said, I shook my head. “They’re worse than the insurance company I swear.” 

“It wasn’t more of the same,” I said, feeling sick. 

“When will they learn?” she continued as if I had said nothing. 

“Mum,” I interrupted her. “They said it looked like someone tampered with the brakes.” She fell silent.

“What?” she said. 

“They don’t think it was an accident, they’re trying to get evidence or something.” 

“Someone tampered with your brakes?” mum said, her voice going up an octave. 

“They think I did it,” I whispered. Mum said nothing but her eyes went wide. “They were trying to spin some story about Max being this crazy popular Jock and me being the weedy nerd who wants revenge.” 

“But Thomas,” mum said. I shook my head. 

“It’s fine, they’re just doing their jobs, but they were being real assholes about it.” I sniffed and closed my eyes, feeling them fill with even more tears. 

“It’s not fine if they’re accusing you!” mum snapped.

“They won't find any evidence; I told them I can’t tell an engine from an elephant. They gave me some bullshit about coming clean, but I have done nothing.” 

“Thomas, sweetheart,” mum's hand closed on my shoulder, I lifted my hand to cover hers. 

“I’m fine,” I said and opened my eyes. “I hope they find something, if someone cut Max’s breaks then… then,” 

“Your brakes,” Mum said. “Someone tampered with your brakes.” I stopped cold for a moment, I hadn’t even thought of it that way. It was my car, anyone messes around with it had just as much chance of me driving it as Max. What if Max hadn’t been the target? 

“No,” I said firmly. “No one would do that; the police must be mistaken. No one even really knows me and no one who’s met Max hates him, he’s too nice a guy.” 

“Saint Max,” Mum sighed. I smiled. “It’s no wonder people thought you two were… well, when you were younger.” 

“Yeah,” I snorted. “The police tried that one, gave me the whole spiel about me trying to off Emily so I could have Max.” Mum started the car and pulled out of the car park onto the road. 

“What about your housemates, are they getting called in?” mum said.

“No,” I said. “They both went home last week, talking about getting work done away from the temptations of the student life.” We approached a junction, left to home, right to the hospital. Mum turned right.

“So, their parents called them home so they would pass their exams,” mum said. 

“Something like that,” I nodded. “Your bag in the boot?” 

“Yes,” mum said. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get down here.” 

“It's fine,” I said, “it’s hardly a family emergency, I wasn’t in the accident.” 

“Max is like family,” mum said, she reached over and patted my knee. “I should have just come, screw work and their ‘we can let you have next week’,”

“It’s fine mum, you’re here now, that’s what counts.” I said. “Um, you’ll be sleeping in my room, I will steal Henry’s.”

“Thank you, dear,” mum smiled. “It’s bad enough sleeping in a 20-year-old boy’s room without it being a strange 20-year-old boy’s room.” The hospital loomed in front of us, well lit and boringly square. It reminded me of the old housing towers back home. Dank, grey and so very ominous. 

Once parked we stepped out of the car and mum followed me to the main entrance muttering about the cost of parking. The hospital was even brighter inside and the sharp acidic smell almost knocked me down. Mum coughed next to me and I offered a sympathetic smile. I led her through the hospital to the intensive care unit; I pushed the buzzer to be let in and waited for the nurse, absently rubbing the hand sanitizer onto my hands.

“You look nervous,” mum said. 

“I’m o.k.,” I said watching the nurses through the glass; they were looking at mum and me and talking. 

“Don’t lie to me,” mum said. I let out a long breath.

“Do you think the police called ahead? What if they told the hospital that I’m a suspect?” I said as one nurse walked towards the door. She opened it and smiled at me. 

“Hi, Thomas, come on in.” I tried to hide the relief I felt. I smiled back and walked in leading mum to Max’s bed halfway down the ward.  

“Oh, Max,” mum said when she saw him, her voice cracked. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder as she started crying. 

Max was hardly visible on the bed underneath all the bandages, tubes and machines. What parts of him you could see was covered in scabs, or dark purple with bruising. He didn’t look like Max anymore; he didn’t even look like a person. 

The first time I had seen him like this the room had spun and I'd found myself on my knees before I'd realised I had fallen. The nurses had sat me down and had me put my head between my knees. Mum seemed to take it better than I was. She was crying quietly. We stood together for a few long moments before mum pulled back from me and wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara. 

“I’m just going to pop to the loo,” she said.

“Take a left at the door; it’s just down the hall. Push the buzzer to come back in,” I said. Mum nodded and sniffed.

“We can’t stay late, we need to get you some dinner,” mum said, turning to walk away. 

“Ok.,” I wasn’t hungry, but I knew mum well enough to know that when she was worried, she took care of people, feeding me would help her and I hadn’t eaten all day. I sat next to the bed and looked for Max’s hand. It was attached to wires, I wanted to take it but was nervous that touching the wires would damage them or hurt Max. “This place sucks, mate,” I said. Listening to the rhythmic beeping of the machines. “I’ll bring you your I-pod tomorrow, so you don’t have to listen to these machines. Not much I can do about the smell. How bout flowers?” 

“Oh,” a woman’s voice startled me. “I didn’t think anyone would be here this late.” She was middle-aged with fading brown hair and dark shadows under her bloodshot eyes. 

“Um, hi my name’s Thomas,” I said standing. 

“I know,” she said, looking around. She held a bunch of flowers in her right hand. 

“Um ... You are?” I said. 

“Oh, I’m a friend of the family; I brought these for ... for him.” She gestured to Max. I frowned, I had never seen her before, she didn’t look remotely familiar to me. She walked to Max and took his hand heedless of the wires and leant forward. I heard her whisper something to him but didn’t catch what she said. When she looked up at me, she didn’t look upset anymore. She glared at me. “You should not be here,” she said firmly. “You have no reason to be here, you of all people.” I took a step back and walked into mum. 

“Oh,” mum put her hands on my back as I turned. 

“Um, let's go,” I said. Mum frowned at the lady behind me but then looked at me and nodded. 

“Ok., I saw a McDonald’s on my way into town earlier,” she smiled and turned. I followed her out of the hospital. Back in the car, mum said nothing. We drove in silence to the McDonald’s on the edge of town. Mum didn’t ask me what I wanted, knowing full well what I would say. She handed me a strawberry milkshake and a bag of food. I sat it on my lap, feeling it warm my legs on the ride home. 

Mum made an unhappy sound when I opened the front door and let her into the house Max and I shared with Henry and Michael. 

“This place is ... nice,” she said. 

“Sorry about the shoes,” I said absently kicking pairs of trainers against the walls. “Um we don’t really want to track mud in when the guys get back from the field.” 

“Sure you don’t,” mum smiled at me and nudged me forwards. I headed into the kitchen, regretting not cleaning up before mum arrived. The kitchen looked like we never washed up, plates stacked three deep around the sink. The bin was piled high, way past the lid. Bin Jenga was something we engaged in often. No one ever wanted to take the bag out. 

“Um, let me get plates,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it,” mum said. “We can eat out of the bags tonight and tomorrow I’ll make a start on this place.” 

“I didn’t ask you down for you to play maid,” I muttered. Mum smirked at me and handed me my cheeseburger. 

“I know, but I need to keep busy, we can’t sit at the hospital 24/7, and this will give me something to do.” 

“I would show you round the town,” I said. 

“You need to keep revising, Max would be angry if you failed your exams because of this,” mum said. 

“I will fail nothing,” I said, mum raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m not, I just ... I just put in the work because I wanted to pass well.” 

“And so you should, you're a smart boy Thomas, if you put in the work there's no reason you shouldn’t do well,” Mum said. I didn’t answer. “We’ll visit twice a day,” mum said. “Max isn’t going anywhere, and he’ll be up and about before you know where you are.” 

“That not what the doctors say,” I said. Mum frowned at me. “I heard them talking to Greg, they were telling him they don’t know when Max will wake up.”

“Well, I’m sure it will be soon,” mum said. “Come on, you’re not eating your burger.” It was lukewarm now, but I finished it all to make sure mum wouldn’t worry. 

“Thanks mum,” I said. “Come on, I’ll show you which room is mine.” I lead her to my room next to the kitchen. 

“Trust you to be near the food,” mum smirked. I opened the door, and she smiled. “At least it’s clean in here. You always were fastidious, unlike your dad.” 

“I get it from you,” I said. “Bathrooms on the other side of the kitchen, if you need anything I'll be upstairs, first door as you reach the top. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” 

“Thank you,” mum said, “but I think I’ll wait.”

“Um there's a load of DVDs and whatnot, but there's a living room upstairs with the big TV if you want to watch a film on a better telly than the one I've got.” 

“Your dad and I paid good money for that TV,” mum said, then leant up and kissed my cheek. “Go to bed, I'll be fine.” I nodded, and she closed the door. I headed up to Henry’s room and settled down on his bed. I’d already brought my laptop upstairs earlier, and I booted it up while getting undressed. I loaded up YouTube and turning the lights off started up my ‘Watch later’ playlist. I doubted I would sleep and had set up enough videos to keep me going until the early morning. I passed out after an hour and woke up with the playlist still running and sunlight streaming in the windows.  Sitting up, I heard my neck click and winced, I'd fallen asleep sitting up. 

“Thomas, did you hear me?.” mum called up from the kitchen. She must have shouted earlier. 

“Hey,” I called back. “I’ll be down in a minute.” I hoisted myself up off the bed and stretched again. I pulled off the clothes I’d fallen asleep in and picked up some clean ones I'd brought up yesterday afternoon. Dressed, I stumbled downstairs and winced when I heard the blender going. 

“I hope you cleaned that well before you used it, Michael keeps using it for weird stuff,” I said. 

“Weird stuff?” mum said handing me a fruit smoothly. 

“Mince was the last thing I saw him churn up,” I said. “Where did you get this?” 

“The corner shop sells fruit and sausage rolls and coke,” mum said. “Michael blends mince?” 

“Meat smoothie,” I smirked. “Just kidding, he made some kind of Pâté; it was still grim, though.” 

“No worries, I washed it. Although had I known that I might have washed it twice,” mum said. “You look like you slept at least.” 

“I didn’t think I would sleep. But yeah, I slept ok.,” I said. 

“Not too worried about what the police said?” mum said. 

“I’m trying not to dwell on it, to be honest,” I said. “I know the police won't find anything, there's nothing to find.” 

“Maybe you should think about talking to a solicitor,” mum said. “I was thinking about it last night, it might not be a bad idea.” 

“Mum, I don’t want to talk to a solicitor,” I said. “It will make me feel like I need to be defended and I don’t, I have done nothing.”  

“I know that,” mum said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to talk to one.” 

“Maybe, but can it wait until after,” I said. “I’m going to head up to the library today. I need to keep things as normal as possible. I’m sure the police will notice their mistake.”

“You hope,” mum said. 

“No one messed with the brakes, no one had any reason to,” I said. 

“Some people don’t need a reason,” mum said. 

“I know, but still, I'm sure it’s all some kind of misunderstanding,” I said standing up. “I’m going to head into the library for a couple hours; can we head to the hospital around lunch?” 

“No problem,” mum said, “do you want a lift?” 

“No, I’ll walk, I need the air,” I said. “I’ll be back by one-ish.” I nipped upstairs and grabbed my bag and books and came back down. Mum was making a start on the mountain of dishes. 

“See you in a bit,” I called. Mum waved pink rubber gloves at me; I had no idea where she found them. 

“Don’t you want to shower first?” mum called. 

“I’ll get one later,” I called and shut the front door. 

The university wasn’t far, we’d rented this place because of that. I put my iPod on while I walked and tried not to think on the police. Instead, I thought of brakes and how you would tamper with them. I’d heard of cutting brake lines from the television, but other than that, I had no idea how you would even go about something like that. I knew nothing about cars; I could barely even fill the tank. I still couldn’t think of anyone who would want to hurt Max or me. So that left accident, the brakes had failed, wear and tear maybe something like that.  

But I had driven the car that morning and there had been nothing wrong with it. It had driven fine. Nothing felt odd. Brakes must take time to wear out? Surely, I would have felt something? But if I drive the car every day, then maybe the brakes could have worn out slowly, and I didn’t notice. Maybe the wear had been so gradual that I hadn’t noticed? But I’d had the car MOT’ed three months ago, and it had flown through with no problems.

I walked onto the campus and headed towards the main block. As I walked, I noticed that most if not all the girls I passed had pink flowers on their clothes, or in their bags. Little badges, cheap handmade paper things that were brightly coloured. 

As I walked to the main block, I saw a small table just outside. There was a big photo of a girl behind the two girls manning the table, a brunette and a redhead. They covered the table in the pink paper flowers. A sign hanging from the table declared the flowers were for “Maria’s Trust.” I looked again at the large photo behind the table; the girl looked familiar, although I couldn’t say why. 

“Probably class,” I muttered to myself, walking over to the table. The red head smiled at me.

“Only £1 and it goes to a very good cause,” she said. 

“I’ll take one,” I said. “What’s the cause?” 

“It’s a charity we set up after Maria passed away,” she said handing me a pink flower and a pin. 

“Cancer?” I asked. The girl frowned at me and shook her head. 

“No,” she said. “She killed herself.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, um, mental health is important,” I felt my cheeks heat. The brunette was looking at me now, both girls were still frowning. 

“How can you not know?” the brunette snapped at me. I took a step back. “You live under a rock?” 

“Patriarchy,” the redhead said, as if that somehow explained my lack of knowledge. 

“Maria died after being raped on this campus,” the brunette said sharply and just like that I knew where I had seen Maria’s face before. 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” I said. “I remember it was all over the campus paper, it was on the local news. Sorry, um I’ll take another flower, for my friend; make that two I’ll get one for mum.” The red head snorted at me but took my money and gave me two more flowers. I walked away quickly before I said anything else stupid. 

I went up to the third floor where the Library entrance was and noticed the posters just outside the door. Both had Maria’s face on them, smiling back at us. The slogans under her picture told me the anniversary of her death was in the next few weeks, just after exams and that Maria’s Trust wanted to stop “Rape Culture on Campus.” The longer I looked at the poster, the more sure I was that I had seen Maria before, and not just from the media coverage. It was bugging me and a welcome distraction from Max and what the police were doing, so I went into the library and headed over to the computers instead of my usual spot. 

I logged on easily; it was still early so a few of the machines were free. The computer took a few minutes to set itself up, and I went onto Google. I searched for Maria and the university and came back with a lot of results. I re-read two articles in the local news. Maria had been an English Major, so I didn’t know her from class then. I checked to see if she minored in Chemistry, but no luck. I must have just known her from the papers and local news. The articles all stated that they had suspected a group of University students, five although only two were prosecuted and they were only done for assault, not rape because of a lack of evidence. The papers all said she had been out drinking with the boys who hurt her, some papers said they might have drugged her, others said she was only drinking. Maria had later accused the boys of getting violent when she tried to leave; they had assaulted her on campus and taken her back to the dorm, although apparently the police found no evidence of this. There was a plea in the papers for any witnesses to come forward, anyone in or around the university library area on 15th April 2014, at approximately 10pm. 

My curiosity satisfied, I shut the computer down and went to my usual spot by the window. I opened my books and notepad and took out my headphones. I skipped through a dozen tracks before settling on one and getting down to the business of revision. 

I noticed I was being watched after I finished the third chapter of my textbook. I don’t know exactly what alerted me to it but I turned round and saw her watching me. She looked away and pulled a newspaper up to cover her face, but I recognised her despite her attempt to hide. It was the woman from the hospital, the friend of the family who I had never seen before yesterday. I turned away but could feel eyes on the back of my neck. I turned again to look at her and caught her staring at me. What was she doing here? 

“Maybe a teacher,” I muttered to myself, turning back to my book and turning my music up. A sudden vibration from my pocket made me jump, I’d forgotten to turn it off when I came in, but at least it was on silent. I saw the caller was mum and answered it; I pulled my book up so I could duck behind it. “Mum?” I mumbled. 

“Thomas, are you all right? You sound quiet,” mum said. 

“I’m in the library, we’re not meant to have phones on,” I said. 

“Well, this is an emergency,” mum snapped. “You’ve got to come home now; we’ve had a call from the hospital.” I felt the cold move up from my feet through my body. I let my book fall back to the table. 

“I’ll be home in a few minutes,” I said. 

“No need, I’ll pick you up outside the campus,” mum said. “I’m already heading to the car.” 

“Mum,” I said, my voice catching in the back of my throat.

“He’s taken a turn for the worse,” she said. 

“Okay,” my voice was a whisper. 

“Meet me outside campus,” she said and hung up. I blinked a few times and took several deep breaths. I had to keep it together, I had to, I had to, I had to. 

I pushed my books back into my bag and rolled up my headphones, chucking them into my bag I left the library. I jogged down the stairs, passed the table selling paper flowers and out onto the main block.  It took me less than five minutes to get to the campus entrance. Mum was already there. I jumped in the car, and we pulled out onto the road. 

“What’s happened?” I said as soon as we were on the road. 

“Gregory called me,” mum said. “The doctors said he needed to get everyone available to the hospital as soon as possible.” 

“But what...” I started. Mum turned to face me for a moment before looking back to the road. 

“I don’t know,” she snapped. She wiped her eyes quickly and let out a slow breath. “I know no more than you do, honey.” 

We rode the rest of the way to the hospital in silence, although there were a few moments when I nearly asked if mum was trying to get us in an accident. She swerved into the hospital car park, almost hitting a man heading towards the bus stop. 

“Mum,” I mumbled. “It’s all right, we’re here.” 

“All right, you go on up, I’ll park the car,” she said her hands were shaking. I got out of the car and winced against the wind that had picked up since getting in. I pulled my coat tighter around me and headed into the hospital. 

When I arrived at Max’s bed, I knew it was terrible. His mum was there, along with his dad, Gregory, and his little sister. They were all silent and still. I sniffed to alert them to my presence, and they all looked at me at once. They were still for a moment before Gregory extended his arm to me, gesturing for me to come closer. I glanced at Max’s mum, Charlotte, but looked away instantly. She was glaring at me, and it didn’t take a genius to know why. 

“Charlotte, stop it,” Gregory said, his voice rough. “It’s not Thomas’ fault.”

“It was his car,” Charlotte whispered. Gregory turned and glared at her for a long moment; she dropped her eyes and looked at Max. I wanted to feel angry at her for blaming me, but I couldn’t. At least it didn’t sound like the police had spoken to them about their suspicions yet. 

Mum arrived a few minutes after I did and was met with the same silent stillness I had been, although she didn’t receive any anger from Charlotte, who was now staring intently at Max. Mum stood next to me and joined our silent vigil. I tried to drown out the sounds of the machines and instead listened to Max breathing; it sounded difficult, laboured. 

“Is this everyone?” the doctor’s sudden words surprised me and I turned around. I clenched my hands when I spotted the woman from the library standing a little way behind the doctor. She had followed us here? My anger was suddenly at the forefront of my being and I turned fully, ready to confront her. Gregory tightened his grip on my shoulder and in that instant my anger disappeared as quickly as it had risen. 

I turned back; the doctor was standing next to the tower of machines around Max; he was speaking, and apparently he had never stopped.

“... I’m sorry,” he finished. 

“What?” I frowned at mum and she reached out and took my hand. 

“It’s for the best sweetheart,” she said crying. 

“What is?” I said. No one said anything and then I realised. They were turning the machines off. “Wait, a minute!” I snapped. “You can’t do that! It’s only been a week!” 

“Thomas,” Gregory said. 

“No, you’ve got to give him longer than a bloody week,” I shouted. “Christ sake, I was in hospital for two weeks when I had that stomach thing.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and felt bile rise in its place. “You can’t do this, just because he’s not getting better fast enough for you.” 

“Gregory,” Max’s mum said she was sobbing quietly. 

“Thomas,” Gregory leant down to be more of height with me. “Max is gone,” he put both hands on my shoulders. “They confirmed it this morning, there's no brain activity, Max is already gone. It’s just his heart that hasn’t given up yet and that’s only because of the machines.” He looked at the doctor and nodded. A switch was flipped, and the machine fell silent.

I spent a long moment waiting for Max to breathe on his own. It never happened. 

I don’t remember leaving the hospital; I don’t remember the drive home; I don’t remember mum putting me in bed.  

I woke up, and the sun was streaming in the windows like nothing had ever happened. I got up, still dressed in my jeans and t-shirt from yesterday, I went downstairs. 

“Oh,” mum said when I entered the kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting you up today.” 

“Why not?” I said. 

“Thomas, honey,” Mum came over and hugged me. I don’t remember her putting me back to bed, but I woke up in bed and it was dark outside. I didn’t get out of bed; this time, just lay awake staring at the ceiling. 

I got up the next day; I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it didn’t matter. Mum put toast in front of me, but I couldn’t eat it.  I wasn’t sad anymore; I felt nothing; I was numb. I could move, speak and listen, but it felt like a part of me had been unplugged with Max. I couldn’t feel anything. I knew that was wrong. People whose best friends die are supposed to be sad. I should have been crying, but I couldn’t. 

“I think I will go for a walk,” I said. 

“Want me to come with you?” mum said. 

“No,” I said. “I’ll be fine, I just need some air.” 

“It’s getting late, honey,” mum said. “Why not go tomorrow, you can have a shower first and we can go out together, we could get some lunch?” I frowned. I’d only just got up this morning. How could it be late already? I looked to the window and saw that it was in fact evening. 

“No,” I said. “I won't be long. I’ll take my phone.” I stood up and grabbed my coat off a chair. I pulled it on and grabbed my phone off the table. I headed out the door before mum could say anything else. 

I had no real idea of where I was going, but I walked, anyway. I headed towards campus and visited the sports field. Max had been on the hockey team, Emily and I had always come up here to watch him play, sometimes we’d come up on nights where they were just practising, to surprise him. I stood at the edge of the field and stared out at it. It was empty and quiet. I wondered if the team would do anything to commemorate Max’s passing. Maybe wear black armbands for some games. Absently, I reached up and played with the pink paper flower still attached to my jacket. Maybe we could do something like Maria’s Trust, although supporting what charity I didn’t know. No one had been driving dangerously, the brakes had failed; it had been an accident despite what the police said. 

No one would hurt Max. 

I turned away from the field and headed back down into the town. Instead of heading home, though, I took a left and two rights until I found myself at a small park. We had found this place by accident, Emily had heard of some kind of secret garden behind the town centre, she’d dragged us out to look for it. We’d wandered for hours with no luck until we realised we were lost. It was when we were trying to find our way back that we found the park. 

It was small but well kept and I went inside. Emily had been delighted that we had eventually found it, but before she had come inside her phone had rang. Some boyfriend disaster had happened to one of her friends who was now inconsolable, and she had had to make a break for it. She had called a taxi, (as we still had no idea where home was from here) and had disappeared off to deal with the drama. Max and I had stayed, though. 

I walked through the small park till I found the bench we had sat at that first time. We had spent the rest of the afternoon on this bench. We’d gone on about the usual conversation topics. What did Max think about the university Hockey Team’s chances? Was my lab as awesome as I had hoped it would be? But the conversation became more serious after a while, what did we want to do after university, how excited we were for classes to start and how Max would end up married to Emily have billions of children and some kind of amazing sports job while I would cure a major disease and be world famous. It was the last time we had really talked about what our hopes and dreams were; we knew we were probably being silly, but what's the point of dreaming if you don’t dream big. 

It startled me out of my thoughts when someone sat next to me. It was getting dark now, so it surprised me anyone was still out here. I glanced at my unwanted companion and stiffened when I saw it was her. The friend of the family who I didn’t recognise, who had followed me to the library and who had been there when Max died. She looked at me for a long moment before handing me a takeaway cup of coffee. 

“Here,” she said, pushing the cup at me. I took it and stared at her. “It’s mocha,” she said. 

“Why are you following me?” I said firmly, wondering briefly how she had known that the only coffee I liked. She said nothing for a long time. She sipped her coffee and looked out across the park. 

“Loss affects us all differently,” she said eventually and looked at me. “Drink your mocha, it’ll go cold.” 

“Who are you?” I said. “You’re not a friend of Max’s family.” 

“My name is Ruth, Ruth Garrett,” she said. “You don’t know me, although you should. I know you, Thomas, and what you’re going through.” I sipped at my coffee; it was good.  “When you lose someone who’s such a big part of your life, you feel alone like you’ve lost a part of yourself, the most important part. You become an empty shell and no matter how much other people come around you to comfort you, they can’t change the fact that you’re not whole anymore.”

I took a long sip of my drink. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How am I supposed to go revise, sit my exams, come back here next year, finish my degree, get a job, have a life? How can I do any of that when Max and Emily aren’t here?” I sniffed, the numbness fading away to finally let me feel grief. “How can I live my life when the two biggest parts of it are rotting underground?” 

“Exactly,” Mrs Garrett said. 

“I’ll never get to see what their kids would have looked like; never get to see Max finally get his own damn car. Did you know he wanted a sports model, something flashy, but we all knew he’d end up with an estate? That always made me laugh. The idea of him trying to be so cool when driving a big old people carrier with kids stickers in the windows.” I glanced at the woman next to me. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I still don’t know who you are.” 

“Grief makes us do strange things,” she breathed. “Sometimes it’s something as small as opening up to a stranger, and sometimes it’s something bigger. Things that we never thought we were capable of.” I watched her, something about her was making me nervous. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was but there was a ball of panic growing in my stomach, cold and spiky it got larger the longer I sat next to her. 

“Um… I think I should probably head home soon,” I said. 

“That’s not an option for you anymore,” Mrs Garrett mumbled, so quietly I almost missed it. 

“Excuse me?” I said, the ball of panic grew larger. 

“It’s because of you, you know,” Mrs Garrett continued as if I had said nothing. “It is your fault I’ll never get to see who her husband could have been; never get to hear about the children she would have taught. She was going to go to Cambodia to teach the children English,” Mrs Garrett said. I frowned and finished my coffee. 

“Who?” I said. 

“Maria,” Mrs Garrett said. “She was my daughter. You should recognise her name at least; you’re wearing one of her flowers.” I swallowed, feeling a little lightheaded. This was Maria’s mother?

“Crap,” I said without thinking. “I’m so sorry, I uh; I heard what happened to her. I’m sorry.” 

“You should apologise, but it won’t be enough, not now, not after all this time,” Mrs Garrett reached over and took my empty cup and held it with her own. She turned to face me. “It’s all your fault that Maria isn’t here anymore, I wanted you to know that.” 

“Wait, how is it my fault? I didn’t even know her!” I snapped. My stomach rolled, I felt like the world was swaying gently. What was wrong with this woman? What did she mean my fault? 

“Yes, you did!” Mrs Garrett snarled at me. Her eyes were wide, the whites visible all around. “You were there that night, I know you were!” 

“What?” I managed, my mouth felt strange, like it was going numb. “When?” 

“The night those bastards hurt my baby girl!” Mrs Garrett said leaning close to me. “You saw them. You were there. Those boys took advantage of her, they hurt her, and no one did anything to help, you did nothing to help.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve never met Maria before, I wasn’t there, I saw nothing,” I tried to stand up, I had to go home, but my body felt heavy and uncooperative. I couldn’t move my legs. 

“It took weeks to convince Maria to go to the police and when she did they didn’t believe her,” Mrs Garrett was crying now, tears causing black to run from her eyes as mascara streaked her checks.  “The police demanded witnesses. They wouldn’t prosecute without them.”

“Something’s wrong with me,” I tried to say, but my words were slurring together, coming out like a drunk on Friday night. I lifted my arm enough to get my hand into my pocket. But my fingers lacked the dexterity and strength needed to grab my phone and pull it out of my pocket. 

“At first, we didn’t think there was anyone. But we were wrong. There was one, just one. One person who was there who could have saved my baby girl but did nothing.” She reached out suddenly and slapped me across my cheek. I didn’t feel the blow, but my head snapped back. I couldn’t lift it back up. 

Mrs Garrett tipped my head back, so I could see her “we got the records from the library, the computer log. We didn’t know who you were, we only had your name. It took us too long to find you, Maria, she couldn’t… she ...” She hiccupped, cutting herself off and covering her mouth with her hands. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a wheeze. 

“Oh? can’t you speak?” Mrs Garrett said pulling her hands away from her face to reveal gritted teeth. “Maybe you appreciate your voice now? Maybe now you realise you should have used it when it counted.” Mrs Garrett snarled at me. “Now you’ll never speak again, you’ll never do anything again.” 

She stood up trembling and set my coffee cup next to me on the bench. My chest felt so tight now, getting a breath in was difficult. I could feel my head swimming, I couldn’t get enough air. 

“They will find the hemlock in your blood; they will find the coffee cup. They will think you did this to yourself, that you killed your friend and couldn’t cope with the stress,” there was darkness on the edges of my vision now, everything was going blurry. She turned to walk away but hesitated and turned back to me.  

“You were supposed to die in the car, but they did, all because you didn’t act again. This is your fault. I want you to know that before you die.”  

My world went dark.