- AHMED -

"If I didn't know better, I'd be willing to bet Steven planted that body there to get attention," Irina said as she crossed the parking lot with me after school.

I sighed. "Gosh, Irina, don't you think you're being a little hard on the guy? I mean, this can't be easy for him."

"Oh, like it's any easier for us? Try to remember that a cop came to my house with a picture of me and some girl who looks like she could be my sister. Steven's not the only one who's going through a lot. And if I had to guess, I'd say he's enjoying the spotlight a heck of a lot more than we are."

I looked down. "Irina, look, I know all the crap Steven's done, but...I don't know. It just doesn't seem right to throw him under the bus like this."

Irina kept walking, her stride intact. "So then...what are you saying?"

"Maybe we should...I don't know...try reaching out?"

Irina actually laughed out loud.

"Irina, come on. Grace just broke up with him, he's run across two corpses in ten days' time, and I feel like he could really use a friend...or two."

"Well, he has one. Dylan's his best friend, and that should be enough."

I sighed, then turned to face Irina, my eyes squinting in the brightness of the afternoon sun. By this point, we'd made it to her car and she was rummaging through her purse for the keys.

She exhaled lowly. "Look, Ahmed, if you really want to try and make nice with Steven, go for it. I'm not stopping you. But when he tells you to bug off, don't get mad if I say I told you so." She pressed the unlock button on her car keys, looping her fingers through the keychain hole as she did, then pulled open the driver's door, seated herself inside, and drove away.

I waved as Irina departed, then turned back to head to the front of the school, where I would wait for Katherine to pick me up. Passing several black-and-white police vehicles parked along the sidewalk, I walked up the asphalt-laden path to the main building.

I opened the double doors and walked inside, where I spotted Ms. Charity waiting with her legs crossed on a bench outside Principal Turner's office.

"Hi, Ms. Charity!" I called out, waving.

She looked toward me, smiling that warm and genuine smile she always seemed to wear. "Hello, Ahmed. It's so good to see you, dear. I hope you've been keeping well."

I sighed as I walked over to her, closing the distance between us. "I guess as well as I can, given what's been happening lately."

She glanced down. "It really was a tragedy to hear about Caroline. And not even two weeks after Glenn's passing."

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. It seemed changing the subject was the only thing I could do. "So, um...what're you doing out here?"

"Just waiting a moment. Now that I'm a member of EdgeWay, I've requested a position on the Outreach Team. Pastor Hall and several other members of the church board are in Principal Turner's office right now discussing my candidacy."

"Whoa...that's amazing! Are you nervous?"

"Honestly, I'd say I'm more excited than nervous." She smiled. "I've already prayed about this, and I think it's God's next step in my life. He wants me here, doing outreach at EdgeWay." She paused for a moment. "I always knew He would end up leading me back here. I just wish it hadn't been under such dire circumstances."

I hesitated. "Um, Ms. Charity...do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all, dear," she said. "What's on your mind?"

"I guess this is kinda silly, but...I've been wondering this since I met you." I gulped. "How do you do it? How are you so calm, so happy all the time? I mean, two dead bodies in ten days' time...that's enough to give anybody the creeps. But you—you seem so...free. Are you honestly not even a little scared by all this?"

She shook her head slowly. "Ahmed," she began, "I learned a long time ago that fear serves no purpose. Whoever has committed these murders doesn't scare me; they bring me great sadness." She exhaled a wistful sigh, then glanced to the ceiling before continuing:

"They're so gruesome...the murders, I mean—so devoid of decency. But I think the corpses tell us a lot more about the person—and perhaps the people—responsible than they do the victim. They write in words and scriptures they do not understand, hoping to alleviate their pain through the suffering of others. They torture, ravaging the body in hopes of avenging...well, I'm not sure exactly what they're hoping to avenge. Perhaps a crime perpetrated long ago, a hatred unforgotten..."

I nodded, shuddering at her every word.

"But nonetheless," she continued, "I can't help feeling that whoever's behind all of this needs a friend, someone who'll bring care, compassion—and love. I just hope we're not too late."

I paused. "Wait, we? What do you mean by—"

"YOU!" My earnest question was interrupted by an angry and familiar voice, followed by the heavy thunder of stomping shoes as Pastor Hall's outraged son stormed over to me and Ms. Charity.

"Steven," Ms. Charity began, "hello, dear. How are you?"

"Shut up, you skinny old maid! I know what you did!"

"Whoa, dude, calm down," I tried, stepping in front of where Ms. Charity sat on the bench.

He grasped my shoulder in under a second and shoved me to the left. "Screw off, Ahmed!" His livid eyes turned back to Ms. Charity. "You showed Grace those videos, didn't you!? I KNOW IT WAS YOU!"

"Steven, I did no such thing—"

"QUIT LYING TO ME!" His words roared through the hallway as if projected from a megaphone. "She ended things; she broke up with me—all because you couldn't keep your ugly little mouth SHUT!" He paused, seething. "Well, you enjoy it, Charity. Because this is my school. And you're gonna pay. I'm gonna make you wish you'd stayed at your stupid church in California." He leaned forward so that his eyes were level with hers as she sat motionlessly, returning his gaze. "I hope you like dirt, 'cause I'm gonna bury you."

He stood back to his original height, content to stare down at her with a haughty half-grin stamped across his face. Her eyes didn't flinch; she met his without hesitation and left her hands resting atop her crossed legs. Without saying a word, she watched as Steven Hall finally turned to leave, plodding off to the hallway's end before shoving his way through the double doors.

"...Wow." I hesitated. "Ms. Charity, I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Steven's just—"

"It's quite alright," she said. "He's been through a lot. We both know that." She sighed and cleared her throat. "He just needs time to recover."

I shifted uneasily, stuffing my hands back inside my pockets just as the door to Principal Turner's office opened. Out of it stepped a tall man in a suit whose forehead was covered in wavy brown hair. "Ms. Vaughn-Daley," he addressed her, "would you mind stepping inside?"

She smiled. "Well, of course, Landon." She stood from the hallway bench and walked quickly into the office.

I know it was a nosy thing to do, but I couldn't just leave there without knowing whether she'd gotten the position she wanted. I waited outside the office, trying but failing to hear through the thick, whitewashed glass at the door's center. After only a few minutes, Ms. Charity reemerged, a generous and genuine smile radiating beneath her eyes. Landon accompanied her, as did Pastor Hall and Principal Turner.

"Thank you all so very much," Ms. Charity said. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

Pastor Hall seemed a bit conflicted, but he chuckled anyway, quirking a single brow. "With a donation like that, I don't see any way we could possibly say no, Charity." He reached in his suit-jacket pocket and retrieved a set of car keys. "Well, I must get going. Landon, I trust you can see Charity out?"

"Of course," Landon nodded. "Right this way, Charity." He placed his hand gently on her shoulder as Principal Turner stepped back inside her office and Pastor Hall headed toward the back door to exit the building.

I followed closely behind Landon and Ms. Charity, the three of us initially quiet. At the hallway's end, it split into two paths, and Landon broke the silence:

"Charity, I just wanted to thank you again. Your financial donation to EdgeWay is greatly appreciated." He paused, briefly considering his next words. "Quite frankly, you're a Godsend."

She turned to him, looked him in the eyes and smiled that lively, vivacious smile. But then suddenly, her lips twisted—bent unnaturally into a frown. Her eyebrows scrunched downward; she exhaled heavily, sharply, as if she'd seen some dreadful sight.

Wet droplets condensed at the bottom of her eyes, threatening to rupture and waterfall down into the darkness of her cheeks.

"Charity?" Landon's voice was fearful. "Charity, what's wrong?"

She gave one more uncertain glance into his eyes, then let fall the tears in her own.

"A-are you alright—?"

"Landon," her voice crackled as teardrops coursed past her jaw and dripped to the floor. "Landon, please. Use this, this money that I've given you...use it as a chance to do right by the church."

"What?" Landon's eyes darted left to right, resting on me for a moment. In them, I could see dread, confusion—and for a moment, something that resembled genuine terror.

I didn't know what to say. I just stood there, frozen on my feet, as Charity reached out her hands and grasped Landon's shoulders tightly, leaning on him as she wept.

"God loves you, dear," she finally said to him. "He loves you deeply, and so do I."

Landon nodded slowly.

"Please," she seemed almost to beg. "Please, always remember that." She exhaled, released her grip from around Landon's shoulders. "I love you." She turned quickly to go, walked down the hallway's left path. She made it to the exit and opened the door, allowing it to slam shut behind her.