Page 47 of Killing Me Softly

“Do you want a ride or not?”

Aaron spotted Kenny and Jack’s cars pulling out of the car park to trail the road looping around campus toward the exit gates, so, without another word, he yanked open the passenger door. “Let’s go.”

Mel squealed in delight, jumping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. “Where are we going?”

He pointed out the windshield as he clipped his seatbelt. “We’re following them.”

Mel gasped, grin wide. “Oh, my God! Betty’s first car chase!”

Aaron slumped into the seat, bracing himself as the lime-green Beetle lurched into motion, stickers glinting in the sunlight as they sped out of the car park.

Chapter eleven

Open Your Eyes

Kenny’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, tailing Jack’s car through the narrow streets of Ryston.

The university that had spectacularly thrown him under the bus earlier now receded in the rearview mirror and ahead lay another destination. One that threatened to annihilate what little composure he had left. His stomach churned, inevitability pressing down on him like a lead blanket. He wasn’t ready for this. Not now. Not like this. He’d wanted the investigation to move forward, yes, but not at this pace and not with this level of devastation. Jack must have known. That was why he’d delivered the news in person, seeking him out on campus instead of over the phone.

He inhaled an intrepid breath.

Control.

Needed to hold on to it, but it was slipping through his fingers like water.

This day was supposed to mean something else entirely. He hadplans. A date burned into his memory, and Aaron’s, a day both of them couldn’t forget. Kenny had wanted to reclaim it.Give Aaron something back. Overwrite years of anguish with something new. Somethinggood. Like he had in Barcelona with the dancehall surprise. Yet he was here. Having not even called the man he was in love with to wish him a happy birthday.

Fuck. Everything was so damnshit.

He thumped the steering wheel, the hollow sound reverberating in the car’s silence. He wasn’t even sure heshouldbe driving. His mind was a hazy mess. Sohe switched on the CD player, and Patsy Cline’s soulful voice spilled into the car, chasing away the heavy silence with its mournful, timeless melody. Body on autopilot, the familiar roads of Ryston blurred past and, before he knew it, he was pulling into the lot at Ryston Hospital. Jack parked his car a few rows over and stepped out, locking his gaze with Kenny through the windshield.

For a moment, Kenny froze. Fingers stuck to the steering wheel, gripping it as if it might hold him together. He could already feel the sterile chill of the hospital hallways creeping into his bones and he took a deep breath to calm himself. Then another. And finally, he stepped out. Jack waited for him, expression carefully neutral.

“You all right?” Jack asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Kenny exhaled sharply. “Let’s just… get this over with.”

“You don’t have to go in.”

Kenny snapped, a flash of anger breaking through the haze. “I’m here to do exactly that. Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, his legs carrying him forward almost involuntarily. Jack fell into step beside him as they entered the hospital and the smell hit Kenny first. That sanitised, chemical tang clinging to the air, masking the unspoken truth of what lay within. They passed through the pristine main lobby, heading to the lift. The numbers above the doors blinked as the lift descended, taking them deeper into the building. Kenny’s pulse quickened with every floor. Thebasement. Of course, it was always the basement. Where else would they put the dead?

The doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the corridor ahead. It was colder here, heavy with a sterile stillness. Kenny faltered for a moment, but Jack nudged him forward with a rub of his back and they navigated the maze-like halls of the pathology unit, past closed doors marked with sterile signage:MORRISON WING: MORTUARY. POST-MORTEM EXAMINATION IN PROGRESS. AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY.The sterile smell was sharper here, mingling with a faint metallic tang Kenny couldn’t ignore.

By the time they reached their destination, Kenny’s breathing was shallow, hands trembling at his sides. He paused outside the door, what lay beyond pressing down on him.

“You sure about this?” Jack asked softly.

“No.” He nodded to the door. “But let’s go.”

Jack pushed it open, and Kenny stepped inside, his senses immediately assaulted by the clinical chill of the room and the examination table in the centre of the room, draped with a white sheet. The outline beneath was unmistakable, and he forced himself to look away, to remain detached. This was just another case. Just another victim.

Except it wasn’t.

That was hismother.

Dr Chong looked up, her gloved hands pausing mid-movement. “Dr Lyons.”

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