Page 67 of Shattered Echoes

But I have to know. I need to understand what happened. I dial Nicole's number trying an internet call as the electric store didn’t sell sims.

Not that I could have gotten one. I don’t have an ID here.

Cassie’s best friend is taking her sweet time to pick up, and I am about to give up as each ring stretches into an eternity until she accepts the call. The words rush out of my mouth in my desperate need of answers.

"Hey, Nicole. I've been seeing a lot of stuff online. How did all this happen?" My voice is steady, but inside, I'm anything but.

"Antonio? Is that you?" Her voice is strained, filled with an undercurrent of anger and sorrow.

"Yeah, it's me. What happened? I just saw the articles online and read what everyone has been saying."

There's a pause, and then she cries. "It's my fault, Antonio. I got drunk at a club. I was so angry. I said some stuff to a friend, but I didn't think other people would hear it."

Her guilt hits me like a punch to the gut. She blames herself, just like I do. I should have been there. I should have known.

This is my fault, not hers.

"Nicole, it's not your fault," I say, but my words feel hollow. "You didn't know this would happen."

"But it happened," she snaps. "And now she's gone. I was so stupid. I just... I can't stop thinking about it. Why do I deserve to live when she's not here?"

The exact thoughts I have.

Her words cut deep, each one a reminder of my own failings. "Nicole, please, don't do this to yourself."

Consoling someone with words you don’t believe, Antonio?

"I can't help it," she sobs. "Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I hear her. And it's my fault she's gone. My family is on my case, trying to make sure I'm okay, but how can I be okay?"

I feel my own eyes sting with unshed tears. "Nicole, listen to me. We both made mistakes. But blaming yourself won't bring her back."

"I know that," she says, her voice breaking. "But it doesn't stop the guilt. It doesn't stop the pain."

Don’t I know it?

"I'm sorry you found out like this," she continues after a moment. "I really think you should have stayed away from the internet. You shouldn't have come back online."

She may be right.

Her words hang in the air, and before I can respond, she hangs up. The silence that follows is deafening.

I sit there, staring at the phone, my heart heavy with the burden of the guilt I share even though I know there was nothing I could have done.

My mind drifts to Colette, her blue eyes and bright smile a stark contrast to the darkness I'm feeling.

I miss her so much.

She has become the light in my life, the one who saw the real me beneath the rockstar facade.

I wonder what Colette is doing now.

I picture her in her studio, engrossed in her latest graphic art project. I can almost see her frowning in concentration, a stray lock of blonde hair falling over her forehead. I doubt she’s painting now, though; she must have found out I left. Perhaps she is searching for me.

I want to return to her. She would know what to say, how to make me feel better. But I'm afraid to drag her into this mess. She's been through enough with her own family. I have to deal with this on my own.

I wonder why I feel so bad about everything. Even if we had something that I thought would last in the beginning, it wasn’t all rosy. Cassie was terrible to me, I remind myself. The memory of my ex is a bitter taste in my mouth. Yet, despite everything, her death still stings. There's a part of me that mourns her, not because of what we had, but because I truly loved her.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts. But the pain is relentless, a constant, gnawing presence that won't let go. I grip the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles go white with the strain.

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