After
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The paramedics check the body while I sit in one of the police cars with the door open, so I can hear everything. As I watch them, and they turn the dead man over, my stomach clenches.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO1RCFjAs0v
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Oh God, I know that face, even though it's bruised and bloody.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxerLqGtwzq
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"That's—"472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdFyIN2vQRb
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"Who is this, Miss Turner?" one of the paramedics asks. I don't remember giving him my last name. "He doesn't have any ID on him."472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZvoMfgBfH3
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"His name is Mr. Grey," I whisper.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpzj4W5NvZd
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What was he doing out here?472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsseE7Upn0z
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"You know him?" the detective standing next to me asks. He's next to his car—next to me—and has a notepad out, even though he's shivers and there's barely enough light to write.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFaDX1gRAIb
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"He is—was—my History teacher," I say, my voice far away.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlE5yZLWVxh
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"We'll need you to come down to the station," he tells me.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbJKNYjE7q3
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Okay, I say, only I don't. I just nod.472Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSL0psufd9V
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The paramedics load My. Grey, and then they're gone, the red lights fading into the cold, terrible night.
