The waiting room is sterile and cold, filled with uncomfortable chairs and the smell of antiseptic that makes my stomach turn. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes, staring at the same spot on the floor, and I still can't make sense of what's happening.
Maya sits beside me, her hand on my back, not saying anything. What is there to say?
Zeke's parents are across the room, talking in hushed voices. His mom keeps crying, his dad keeps trying to comfort her. They look as lost as I feel.
Ashley is pacing near the windows, her phone clutched in her hand. Every few minutes, she glances at me, and I can see the same confusion and anger I feel reflected in her eyes.
Finally, she stops pacing and walks over to me.
"I need to understand," she says, her voice shaking. "Who are you? Really?"
