“The window’s open again,” Mason Weber noted as Cayden stepped into the room. “Was Jesse here again last night?” He questioned as he pointed toward the window.

“Yeah, while you were out partying, Jesse spent the night on the couch.” Cayden said as he poured a glass of orange juice and returned the carton to the refrigerator.

“That’s every night since Halloween,” Mason noted. “Why doesn’t he just give up his apartment and move in here?” He questioned. “He’ll save a bunch of money.”

“I know,” Cayden smiled as he stepped into the living room. Jesse’s cool and all, and I understand what he’s going through, but . . . he scares the hell out of me.”

“Yeah? So lock the window,” Mason said as he reached for the remote control to turn on the television. “Problem solved.” He flicked on the set and began channel surfing with no apparent destination in mind.

“I can’t do that,” Cayden responded. “He’s my friend . . . well, kind of. I don’t know how to explain it. I see him and he looks so sad and so lost and I just want to give him a big hug.”

“Fag,” Mason joked.

“Seriously,” Cayden said as he picked up a pillow from the floor and sat on the couch beside Mason. “I feel bad for him.”

“Well, then what’s the problem?” Mason questioned. “I know you Cayden, I can tell when something is wrong. Sure, you feel sorry for the guy, you feel sorry for everyone.”

“I’ve never met anyone like him before. One day I run into him and he scares the hell out of me and the next day he’s totally fine and cracking jokes, but there’s always this intense sadness in his eyes.”

Mason glanced over at Cayden. “You’re in love with him.”

“I am not in love with him,” Cayden explained.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re in love with Officer Lovestick,” Mason teased.

“Shut up!” Cayden said as he whacked his friend on the arm. I don’t know, maybe I should lock the window. I don’t know if I can handle him being here every night.”

“He’s just sad,” Mason explained, “I don’t think he’d do anything to you.”

“Me either,” Cayden agreed, “but then again, I don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”

The knock on the door caught him off guard, and he jumped slightly, turning to glance in that direction. He remained silent, for a moment, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave. He was not so lucky.

“Jesse,” Kathryn Hayes called out. “I know you’re there, I saw you climbing the fire escape earlier.” She knocked on the door again.

Sighing, Jesse got up from his stool and set down his paintbrush. He opened the door and peered out at Kathryn. "What do you want?” He questioned, his voice low.

“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Kathryn teased as she stepped past him and entered the apartment. “What are you doing?” She questioned as she walked into the living room. Jesse’s apartment was sparsely decorated. There were no couches on which to sit. He had a couple of stools in the corner, but for the most part, the living room was empty, save for his easels and canvases lined up against the walls.

“Remind me to give you the number of my interior designer,” Kathryn said as she turned to glance at Jesse. He could do wonders with all of this unused space.”

“I don’t need an interior designer,” Jesse responded as he closed the door. “I like my apartment just fine.” He paused for a moment. “What do you need?” He questioned.

“Oh,” Kathryn said, as if her arrival were an afterthought. “I was wondering if you would like to come to the opening of my new show. Well, it’s not exactly my show, I just dancing in it despite the fact that I can dance circles around the lead. I’d really like it if you would come,” she explained. “I got a two free tickets and I want you to have one,” she explained.

“You want me to go to a theater and sit and watch a bunch of ballerinas?” He questioned. “You have the wrong apartment,” he explained. “I’m not gay. Cayden lives downstairs.”

Kathryn laughed as she shook her head. “I’m going to give Cayden a ticket too, but I thought maybe you’d like to come,” she added.

“I can’t,” Jesse explained as he glanced past her at the canvas by the window. “I have to work.”

“Work?” Kathryn questioned. “You’re an artist, you work when you want to work.” She glanced over her shoulder at what Jesse was looking at. “Oh my God,” she said as she saw the canvas. “It’s beautiful.”

Walking up to the canvas, Kathryn took in the sight. “It’s Julia,” she said as she examined it.

“No, it’s not,” Jesse mumbled as he turned away.

“It is,” Kathryn responded. “All you have left to do is the eyes,” she explained. “It seems kind of strange that she has no eyes.”

“I can’t seem to capture them,” he explained, “I tried a bunch of times, but every time it’s just wrong.”

Kathryn turned back to him. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t remember her eyes.”

“Jesse,” she said when she realized that he was upset. “It’s okay. It happens,” she explained. “Faces fade from our memories. It’s our way of dealing with things. It helps us to move past it.”

“I don’t want to move past it,” Jesse responded. “I’m never going to move past it. I can look at a thousand pictures of her eyes, but when I try to picture them in my head, I can’t see them,” he explained. “Why can’t I see them?”

Falling silent for a moment, Kathryn shook her head. “Maybe it’s for the best,” she explained. “Maybe you’re finally letting go.”

“Get out of here,” Jesse yelled.

“Jesse!” Kathryn nearly yelped with surprise.

“Don’t tell me to let go of Julia,” he exclaimed. “I’ll never let go of her. Just go!”

Kathryn quietly headed for the door, but paused before exiting. “For what it’s worth,” Kathryn said softly, “It’s a beautiful painting.”

“Stop moving,” Jesse Martinez laughed as he stepped away from the canvas and glanced at Julia Taylor. “I can’t paint you if you keep moving.”

Sitting on a stool in the center of Jesse’s living room, Julia sighed. “My back hurts,” she grumbled. “How much longer do I have to sit like this?” She glanced over at Jesse, hoping that he would be done for the day so that she wouldn’t have to sit there like some lifeless mannequin.

“Well, you told me that you wanted me to paint you,” Jesse responded as he returned to his canvas.

“I didn’t think I’d be sitting in the same position for so long when I said it,” Julia admitted. “Maybe we can finish it later.”

“I want to get as much done as I possibly can,” Jesse told her.

“I have a better idea,” Julia said as she stepped off of the stool.

“Hey,” Jesse said playfully as he pointed his paintbrush at her. “Get back on that stool, Miss.”

“Don’t you want to know what my idea is?” Julia questioned as she slowly began to remove the dress she had been wearing.

“Miss,” Jesse said, feigning shock. “I do not think this is appropriate, I do not paint nude pictures.” He glanced away, grunting disapprovingly, but there was a smile still on his face that belied his words.

“You want to paint me?” Julia questioned as she allowed her dress to fall. She stood naked in the middle of the living room.

Jesse glanced at her quickly, then glanced away. “Of course I want to paint you . . . but Miss, this is most inappropriate,” he joked. “I can not paint you without your clothing on. I am not that kind of man.”

Julia slowly began to walk toward Jesse. She reached forward and placed her hand on his. “So paint me,” she said softly as she guided the brush in his hand to her chest and painted a sweeping arc of gold across it.

“But Miss Julia . . .” Jesse responded. “This is most irregular.”

“Create me,” Julia whispered.

Slowly, Jesse began to let his paintbrush glide against Julia’s supple skin. He looked into her eyes and she looked back into his. “I love you,” Jesse said softly.

“I love you too,” Julia responded as she reached forward and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall to the ground. He continued to paint directly onto her flesh, using her body as a canvas as she unfastened his pants and let them drop.

As he stepped out of his pants, Julia grabbed a paintbrush and dipped it into a brilliant red. Carefully, she brought the tip of the brush to his stomach and began to paint.

“Now this is art,” Julia smiled as they painted one another.

“I lied to you,” Jesse said softly, causing Julia to stop painting his stomach. She glanced up at him questioningly. “I didn’t need you to sit on that stool,” Jesse explained. “I could paint a portrait of you even if you weren’t in the room.”

“So why did you torture me like that?” She questioned as she reached up and pinched his nipple.

He laughed and jumped back slightly. “Because I like looking at you,” he responded.

"Junk mail," Cayden said as he locked his mailbox and turned away, nearly walking into Devon James in the process. "Oh my God," Cayden gasped. "You scared the crap out of me,"

"Relax," Devon responded. "The lights are on and there's no ouija board. You have nothing to be afraid of."

"That was pretty screwed up of you," Cayden admitted.

"What?"

"Springing that ouija board on all of us like that."

Devon rolled her eyes. "Is that why you've been avoiding me? I'm sorry," she responded. "It just popped into my head and I wanted to try it. If you were scared, then I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry for wanting to find out who killed Julia."

"I'm just saying, it was kind of screwed up," Cayden repeated with a sigh.

"Whatever," Devon said as she pulled her mail from the mailbox. "So what are you doing today? I was thinking that we could read through the diary."

"I think I know who killed Julia . . . I think it was Devon . . ." Kathryn's words echoed through Cayden's head.

"I . . . uh . . . I can't right now," Cayden responded. "I have an appointment," he lied, "but when I get back, I'll come over and we can go through it then," he explained.

"Fine," Devon said. "I'll order a pizza and we'll read through the diary."

"Yeah," Cayden said with a nod. "I'll see you later." He waved at Devon as he stepped out of the building and onto the street.

"Where's the fire?" Jesse Martinez questioned as Cayden nearly knocked him over.

Cayden straightened up. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine," Jesse responded.

Glancing down into his arms, Cayden saw that Jesse was holding two brown paper bags filled with food.

"Stocking up for the winter?" Cayden questioned.

"What? Oh," Jesse said as he glanced down at the bags. "I just had to pick up a few things," he noted.

Glancing into one of the bags, Cayden reached forward and pulled out a bottle. "Wine?" He questioned. "Must be a big night," he noted.

"I guess," Jesse responded. "I'm celebrating."

"What are you celebrating?" Cayden questioned.

"Letting go," Jesse answered.

Cayden fell silent. He didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry about me," Jesse said, picking up on Cayden's uneasiness. "I'll be fine."

"I wasn't thinking that," Cayden responded.

"You were," Jesse assured him, "but it's cool. I decided that I have nothing left to celebrate, so letting go seems like the next logical conclusion."

Cayden wanted to tell him about Julia's baby, he wanted to let him know that Julia was carrying his child. He wanted to make everything all better for Jesse, but he didn't want to add to Jesse's depression. By telling him that he was almost a father, he would, in effect, be taking something else away from the man. Jesse Martinez didn't look like he could afford to lose anything else.

"Well, this food won't cook itself," Jesse said as he stepped past Cayden. Cayden watched him go until Jesse was safely inside of the building. Reaching into his pocket, Cayden pulled out his cell phone. He wasn't sure why he was dialing the number, but when he heard the voice, he knew it was the right thing to do.

"Szymon," he said. "I need to talk to you . . ."

With the sound of Jingle Bell Rock playing in the background, Kathryn Hayes smiled as she finished putting the icing on the last cupcake. Breathing in, she took in the scent of the freshly baked treats and smiled as she set the icing aside.

Turning, she reached for the basket on the table and admired the bright red bows she tied to it. "It's perfect," she said to herself. She opened the basket carefully and began to fill it with the cupcakes. She wanted to do something to apologize to Jesse for what she had done earlier and this was the only way she knew how.

It seemed that with Jesse Martinez, actions meant more than words and she could never really find the words to tell him anything. She paused for a moment. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe what she really needed to do was give Jesse some space.

"But maybe space isn't what he needs right now," she thought to herself, "maybe he needs a friend." She nodded to herself. That was exactly what he needed. Julia's death had hit Jesse hard and it pained Kathryn to see him like that. It was all she could do not to run to him and throw her arms around him and hold him close. But she couldn't have done that, it wouldn't have been right.

It occurred to her that she wanted something more from Jesse, she wanted to fill the void that Julia's death had left within him. She wanted to fix him and bring him back to the person he once was, the guy who laughed and joked and did crazy things.

Reaching for the basket, Kathryn headed for the door and exited into the hall. She made the short walk to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting patiently for the door to open. When it opened, she paused and looked at the old woman standing there.

"Mrs. Mulberry," Kathryn said as she stepped onto the elevator, allowing the doors to close behind her. "You missed your floor," she said.

"I'm not senile," Mrs. Mulberry retorted, "I'm headed to 10-C. I'm playing rummy with Selma Hutchins," she announced. "I just had to stop at the package store for some vodka," she said as she showed Kathryn the brown paper bag. "Selma can't play worth shit if she doesn't have her vodka in her. Not that it's any of your God damned business."

Kathryn nodded and pressed the button for the ninth floor.

"What's that there?" Mrs. Mulberry questioned as she glanced at Kathryn's basket.

"Oh, I made some cupcakes for Jesse," Kathryn responded.

"What for?" Mrs. Mulberry inquired. "You're not thinking of trying to move in on that poor boy, are you? Don't answer that, I already know the answer. Girls these days," Mrs. Mulberry said as she shook her head. "You're all a bunch of tramps and whores. You should be ashamed of yourself," she said as she doors opened onto the ninth floor.

Shaking her head, Kathryn stepped off of the elevator and rolled her eyes. When she reached Jesse's door, she paused for a moment before knocking, but when she did there was no response.

She knocked again and there was still no response. "Jesse," she called out. "It's Kathryn. Are you there?" After five minutes, Kathryn glanced down at her basket and sighed. "If you're there," she called out, "I brought you something. I'll just leave it outside of the door," she said as she placed the basket on the floor.

Turning away from the door, she walked toward the elevator and pressed the button. With a sigh, she slipped into the elevator and leaned against the wall. Maybe Mrs. Mulberry was right. Maybe she should have been ashamed of herself. Jesse Martinez was in love with only one person. How could she compete with a ghost?

When the doors to the elevator opened, Jesse Martinez could hear the adjacent elevator doors closing, and for a moment he felt as if he had missed something important. He paused for a moment, then shrugged it off as he headed down the hall to his apartment.

Spotting a small basket beside his door, he stopped and set his groceries on the ground so that he could examine the basket. Opening it, he glanced inside and saw several cupcakes lined up, each with bright pink frosting and sprinkles.

Despite his somber mood, he smiled and unlocked his door and dragged his groceries and the basket inside. He set the basket on the table and stared at it in silence.

Julia used to make cupcakes for him. When his mother died, he told her how she used to make cupcakes for him whenever he was sad, and Julia surprised him by making a batch. She didn’t stop there though, she made cupcakes for him every week because she said that as long as he had cupcakes he would never be sad.

It was always such a comfort to him to wake up every Saturday morning to the smell of fresh cupcakes. Reaching into the basket, Jesse took one of the cupcakes and set it on the table in front of him.

“Julia?” He questioned as he glanced around.

"I made him some cupcakes," Julia Taylor said as she tried to balance the phone on her shoulder and frost the last cupcake. "He should be back soon." She turned to glance at the clock on the wall.

"Do you really think cupcakes are going help?" The voice on the other end of the phone questioned.

"I don't know," Julia responded. "I don't know anything anymore."

"How do you plan on telling him?"

"I'm going to spend the evening reminding him how much he loves me," Julia explained, "then, when the time is right, I'll tell him."

"He might not appreciate being toyed with."

"I'm not toying with him. There's no easy way to tell him, but I have to do it. I promised him that I would be honest with him, you know that. I can't keep this secret anymore."

"What is telling him going to do for you? What is he going to gain out of all of this? I'll tell you what's going to happen, you're going to tell him and he's going to hate you."

"He's not going to hate me," Julia responded, slightly unsure of herself. "He may be pissed off, but he's not going to hate me. He loves me."

"He loves you because he doesn't know what you've done, but when he finds out, he might feel differently."

"I made up my mind, I'm going to tell him," Julia explained. "Now I have to go take a shower because he's going to be here any minute now. I'll talk to you later," she said as she set the phone down and ran out of the kitchen to the bathroom.

As she removed her clothes, she tried to find the exact words that she would use to tell him. She couldn't lie to him anymore. If she wanted to have a future with Jesse Martinez, she had to tell him the truth. The whole truth. She had to explain to him her reasons for doing what she did.

She would put it all out there for him, she would tell him every last sordid detail, and then she would sit back and wait for him to respond. She decided that whatever choice he made, she would have to live with it, but she wanted so desperately for him to choose to stay with her.

In her heart, she knew that Jesse loved her and that he would forgive her. He'd already forgiven her once and his heart was big enough to forgive her a second time.

As she reached for the body wash, she heard the bathroom door open.

"Jesse?" She called out as she reached for the shower curtain. "Why don't you take off your clothes and join me?" She questioned as she pulled the curtain aside and felt an excruciating pain in her chest. Glancing down, she saw the blade of a knife lodged firmly into her chest, and she stared at her attacker in shock.

“Why did you want to meet me?” Szymon Skubisz questioned as he glanced at Cayden King. He had been standing outside of the Pizza Shop where he told Cayden he’d be. In truth, Szymon showed up twenty minutes early and Cayden was right on time.

“Let’s go in,” Cayden said as he motioned to the restaurant.

Szymon reached forward and pulled the door open and waited for Cayden to step inside. The act was not lost on either of them and they shared an awkward glance before Cayden entered. They found a booth and Cayden slid in. Szymon sat across from him and ordered two slices of pepperoni pizza.

“So, what’s up?” Szymon questioned.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you said that you were off-duty, but I had to talk to you,” Cayden explained. “I’ve learned some things about Julia Taylor that . . .”

“Wait a second,” Szymon interrupted, “I thought I told you not to ask questions about Julia Taylor.”

Cayden paused for a moment and glanced over at Szymon. “I haven’t. I mean, I didn’t,” Cayden responded. He glanced at Szymon, then glanced away. “I got some mail that was meant for Julia,” he quickly lied. “I guess not everyone knows that she’s dead. Anyway, it was a letter from her OB/GYN about some missed appointments,” he continued, “and it mentioned something about scheduling an ultrasound to monitor her child’s growth. Was Julia pregnant?” Cayden questioned.

“She wasn’t pregnant,” Szymon responded.

“Are you sure?” Cayden questioned.

“I read the autopsy report myself,” Szymon admitted. “Julia definitely wasn’t pregnant.”

“That’s strange,” Cayden said with a sigh.

“Look, I can see that just telling you not to get involved isn’t going to stop you. Hell, almost getting killed didn’t seem to stop you, but I’m going to warn you again,” he explained.

Cayden glanced over at him in silence and could see that Szymon was truly concerned.

“These people . . . your new neighbors . . . they have secrets that they’re hiding. One of them might even be hiding the fact that they’re a murderer,” he elaborated. “You have to be careful with these people. Devon James has a rap sheet that includes assault with a deadly weapon. Jesse Martinez has been in and out of mental institutions for most of his life. And let’s not even get into the reason why Gage Matthews was all but disowned by his family or how Kathryn was once under suspicion of sidelining her dance rival.”

“Okay, so they’re not perfect,” Cayden agreed.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Szymon commented. “Throw in the fact that Julia Taylor wasn’t exactly a paragon of virtue and you’ve got a seriously screwed up circle of friends.“

“What was Julia’s deal?” Cayden inquired.

Szymon glanced at him for a moment. “Fine,” he said, “I can see that you’re not going to drop this. Julia Taylor was a seriously messed up teenager. There was child abuse involved. She had a father that was an alcoholic and she ran away at sixteen. I suspect there was prostitution involved.”

“That’s horrible,” Cayden commented.

“That’s life,” Szymon explained as the waitress delivered his two slices of pizza. He glanced over at Cayden and pushed one of the plates toward him. “Here,” he said as he glanced away nervously.

Cayden glanced down at the pizza, then back at Szymon. “Thanks,” he responded. They ate their pizza in silence, exchanging awkward glances at one another. When they were done, Cayden placed his napkin on the table.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” Cayden said as he started to slide out of the booth.

“Wait,” Szymon said as he reached forward and placed his hand on Cayden’s, causing the younger man to pause and glance down at Szymon’s touch. Szymon pulled his hand away slowly. “Let me walk you to the subway,” he said. Cayden nodded and smiled and they stepped out of the Pizza Shop and onto the street.

“I know I’m going to sound like a broken record,” Szymon said as they neared the subway entrance, “but I’m going to say it again. You need to be careful. I’m not going to delude myself into thinking that you’re going to listen to me and stop asking questions about Julia,” he explained, “but be careful. You have my number. If anything happens, I mean anything . . . call me,” he said.

“I will,” Cayden agreed as he stepped down the stairs of the subway entrance. He glanced back and waved. The walk through the turnstiles was uneventful and he was glad to see the train arriving already. He waited for the doors to open and then boarded the train with a sea of people around him. He heard Szymon calling his name and he glanced back.

“Cayden,” Szymon called out. “I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this, but Julia was pregnant,” he called out. “Just not when she died.”

Cayden glanced through the crowd of people curiously, unable to move past them. “What do you mean?” He questioned as he tried to step off of the train.

As the doors to the train closed, sealing Cayden inside, he caught the distinct response from Szymon Skubisz. “She had an abortion.”

“Jesse?” Kathryn questioned as she pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment. “I hope you don’t mind, the door was open.” She glanced around quietly before calling out to him again. “Jesse?”

Stepped further into the apartment, Kathryn glanced at the table beside the kitchen and saw her basket lying there. Beside the basket, one single cupcake had been set aside, untouched and uneaten.

She smiled. Jesse had found her gift. She wanted so desperately for him to like her. She knew that she could help him through his grief and he would grow to love her just as much as she had grown to love him.

“Jesse? Are you home?” She questioned.

Stepping further into the living room, she took in the sight of his painting of Julia. It really was a beautiful painting. She admired Jesse’s skill. The way he painted her was beautiful. Still, the eyes were wrong and she knew that it hurt him more than anything that he couldn’t capture them correctly.

Standing in front of the painting, Kathryn imagined that she could pose for Jesse one day and that he would memorialize her with an equally beautiful painting. A sound in the bedroom caught her off guard and she froze for a moment to listen.

“Jesse?” She called out as she turned toward the bedroom. “It’s Kathryn. I came to check on you,” she explained as she neared the bedroom. “I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier.”

As she entered the bedroom, she realized that it was much darker than the rest of the apartment. The heavy drapes on the windows were pulled closed and only a tiny crack of light entered the room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that Jesse wasn’t there.

She turned to leave, but she heard a faint whimper from the bathroom and steeled herself as she stepped toward the door. “Jesse?” She questioned as she reached out and placed her hand on the door to the bathroom and slowly pushed it open.

A gasp escaped her lips.

Jesse Martinez glanced up at Kathryn and smiled.

“I got your cupcakes, Julia,” he said, his voice low and devoid of life. “You came back for me,” he smiled, “you came back for me . . .”

“Cayden!” Gage Matthews called out as he stepped off of the train. Cayden glanced around and spotted his neighbor and waved. Gage pushed through the crowd to join his friend. “I thought I saw you on the train,” he said when he reached his friend’s side.

“There were so many people on that train, I’m surprised you could even spot me,” Cayden responded.

“Yeah, I hate the train,” Gage said as they ascended the steps to the street above. “So . . . have you spoken to Devon recently?” Gage inquired.

“I saw her earlier today,” Cayden admitted, “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Gage said with a shrug as they surfaced onto the street and were greeted by the bright afternoon. “I was just thinking about what happened on Halloween, you know.”

“Yeah, I think everyone’s been thinking about that.”

“Don’t be pissed with her,” Gage explained, “She’s not working with a full deck.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Cayden questioned.

“I’m not trying to bad-mouth her,” Gage responded, “She’s just not the same anymore.”

“Yeah, well death is hard on everyone, especially if you’re close to the person that died.”

“No,” Gage corrected. “Devon is bitchy and confrontational on a good day. She and Julia were exact opposites. I never got how they were best friends. What I mean is she’s been more nervous and tense, but she only started acting like that since you moved into the building,” Gage explained.

Cayden glanced over at Gage as they rounded the corner onto their street. “What are you saying?” He questioned.

“I don’t know, she just seems like she’s hiding something . . . and like at any moment someone’s going to find out what it is,” he explained as she glanced over at their building. “Holy shit,” he called out, “what the hell happened?” In the next instant, Gage was running toward their building.

Cayden glanced past Gage and at the building where a police car and an ambulance were parked nearly on the sidewalk with their lights flashing. He found himself chasing after Gage.

They stopped outside of the building as the front door opened and a female cop began to lead Kathryn from the building.

“Oh my God, Kathryn,” Cayden called out as he took in the sight of her bloodstained clothing. “What happened to you. Who did this?”

Kathryn glanced around and caught sight of Cayden. “It’s not me,” she responded, her voice shaky as tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s not me,” she repeated, her voice fading to a whisper.

“What the fuck happened?” Gage said as he stood by Cayden’s side, watching in shock.

At the door, two paramedics emerged pushing a stretcher. Cayden and Gage watched in shock as they pushed Jesse Martinez out onto the street. His shirt had been torn from his body and his arms were bandaged around the wrists. The blood had soaked through the white gauze completely. He stared up at the sky in silence.

“Jesse?” Cayden managed as he stepped forward in shock.

“He tried to kill himself,” Kathryn said softly. “He wanted to be with Julia again.”