Page 64 of I Did Something Bad
“This used to be my cousin Thiri’s place. When she put it up for sale, I was too nostalgic to let a stranger buy it,” Tyler says, removing his shoes. “She’s the oldest cousin, so she was the first of us to get herown apartment. We thought she wasso cool,and we couldn’t believe we could hang out here after school without any grown-ups around.”
My smile shows up involuntarily. “Was it hard to leave your family behind? When you left for the States?”
He heads for the kitchen and fills up two mugs with water. “Definitely. It was the most difficult part. And I couldn’t come home until I got a work visa. Man, I missed them so much. But hey—” He turns, startling a bit to find me standing behind him, but recomposes himself as he hands over the mug. “Now I get to fly them out to anywhere in the world, which kind of makesmethe cool cousin these days.”
“Oh, soIhave to speed-drink my matcha latte before my straw dissolves into papier-mâché whileyou’repicking out which private jet you want to fly your family out on?” I ask, lifting a reprimanding brow.
“They’ve never flown private,” he counters.
“Butyoudo.”
“Is this going into the story?” He makes a horizontal swiping gesture with one palm. “Tyler Tun:THE WORST THING TO HAPPEN TO THE ENVIRONMENT SINCE FAST FASHION.”
I’ve never noticed before how his smile expands whenever he makes me laugh, but it does, and this newfound information melts my insides.
I place the mug down on the nearby island with a smidge too much force.
He tilts over and his eyes widen with genuine worry. “Woah, be careful, that’s my favorite mug.”
I direct my attention to the mug in question. It’s matte black, with an image of a gold Oscar statue, and the words “And the Oscar goes to…” written in gold, curly script on one side. I rotate it and find a photo of kid Tyler in sunglasses on the other side.
A wild laugh vaults out of me at the sight, and when I turn back tohim, Tyler’s silently laughing, too. “Jess bought it for me after I landed my first feature role,” he explains. “It’s the one thing I bring with me whenever I travel.”
“Awww,” I say with full sincerity, unable to recall whatever snarky comment I was going to make. I can’t tell what’s more endearing: the story, or his sheepish embarrassment. “And you letmedrink from your favorite mug? Even though you’ve seen how lethal I can be with an everyday object?”
It’s a dark joke that could go either way, but Tyler’s shoulders shake with audible laughter this time, and before I can stop myself, I remember what May said and imagine himself laughing like this with a stranger on a plane, loudly and wholeheartedly, no baseball cap, no sunglasses, no lowered voice.
“Shall we place our order?” he asks, taking out his phone.
“Yes,” I say. I pick up the mug again, this time with both hands.
The food arrives and we’ve just laid all the boxes out on the table when my phone buzzes. “It’s my building’s front desk,” I say and pick up, hoping there hasn’t been some freak accident like the ceiling falling in or my fridge glitching and defrosting. Wouldn’t that be my luck, though?
“Hi, a ma,” Yarzar, my doorman, says, his tone already telling me that it’s not great news.
“Hey, Yarzar. Everything okay?”
A slight pause. “I… have two detectives here.”
Despite the warm air in the room, a chill spirals through me. “Detectives?” I look at Tyler, who’s also stiffened.
“Yes.” The wariness in Yarzar’s voice tells me that they’re standing in front of him. “They’re asking me to let you into your apartment, but I told them I needed your explicit permission.”
I feel like I’m going to faint. I try to stroll in order to jolt my brain into working, but only manage one awkward backward step. “Do they have a warrant?”
“No, a ma.”
I shut my eyes and let out a silent sigh of relief. “Then tell them we don’t have to show them anything.”
“I—excuse me?” There’s a muffled conversation and Yarzar returns. “They’re asking to speak to you.”
The hand gripping the phone is shaking, and I grasp my wrist with my other hand. I look at Tyler again, who moves closer and gives me a slow nod.Stay calm,he mouths.
“That’s fine,” I say, keeping my voice nonchalant. “Please put them on.”
“Hi, Khin,” Detective Zeyar says. I hadn’t realized I’d memorized his voice, but I have, and it’s just as revolting over the phone as it is in person.
“Hi, Detective. What’s this about you wanting to search my apartment without a warrant? And without our lawyers knowing? And at this hour?”
