to catch a skylark || onc2022

six

Eventually, they drifted to the back of the room for dinner. Maggie smiled at them across the table while they ate. "You know, having you both here...it almost feels like..." She shook her head, eyes misting. "Etta used to talk about you all the time, you know. She was so nervous about starting a new school. You two really helped her come out of her shell."

Sadie stared at her knees, hands clenching in her lap. Nausea rolled in her stomach. She couldn't do this.

Baz set his fork back down on the table. "That was delicious, as always," he said. 

"Oh, Baz," Maggie said. "You flatter me."

"Nah, I mean it. My mum can't do lasagne to save her life. This stuff is amazing."

Maggie smiled. "Will you be staying for dessert, or are you both busy tonight?"

Baz glanced at Sadie. "Actually, while we're here, there was something of Etta's we were looking for. Do you still have any of your old stuff?"

Maggie nodded. "Of course. Her room's upstairs, on the left."

The statement struck Sadie as weird: Etta had never lived in this house before. It was only when she'd climbed the stairs and pushed open the door did she realise.

The room was almost a perfect replica of Etta's old room, from the trinkets crammed onto the shelf above her bed, the stuffed animals lying atop the floral bedspread; the K-Pop posters adorning the wall opposite the window. From the ceiling hung the paper crane mobiles she'd made herself, folding squares of patterned paper during their geography lessons.

They'd recreated her room, almost exactly how it was. In case she ever came home.

Sadie sank down onto the bed; her legs wouldn't keep her upright any longer. "This was a horrible idea," she whispered.

Baz didn't say anything for a while. Sadie heard him moving around the room.

"I wouldn't cry in here," he said. He wiggled something next to her face; she turned and saw Etta's favourite Shiba Inu plushie grinning at her. "You know what a gossipy lil' bitch Mr Pumpkin is."

Sadie rolled her eyes and pushed him away. "You're so weird, Baz."

He dropped down onto the bed next to her. "Tell me about the clue. What are you even looking for, anyway?"

"I don't know," Sadie realised it was true. The plan had been to do this alone, so there wouldn't be any pressure to actually find anything. Now she actually needed results, or the temporary truce she and Baz had developed would shatter again. 

She sat back, trying to organise her thoughts.

Casper Franklin. The surroleum they both mentioned. That was it — she'd wanted to find a link between Etta and Casper; some proof that Etta had been talking about the same things Casper had; maybe even if she knew something about the flowers she'd been getting. The flowers Avel had been painting.

"Art," Sadie said, out loud. "See if you can find anything art-related in here. Art books, paintings, anything like that."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Baz grumbled. But he got to work, rummaging through a box. Sadie examined the desk, looking for any art books. She didn't find anything of note, only a small polaroid camera.

"Damn," Baz said. "Girl's got talent."

Sadie came over to look. Baz was sitting cross-legged against the bed, flicking though one of Etta's sketchbooks. She crossed the room to peek over his shoulder.

Baz was right. The sketchbook was filled with page after page of drawings, scenes of the city done in black fineliner. Some had been coloured in with markers, but even the line art was impressive. Sadie recognised the locations instantly: the street outside her house in late autumn, wet leaves scattered across the roads; the road up to Reservoir Hill, with the overgrown cobbled path, chain-link fence and the city peeking out from behind the crest of the hill.