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TWENTY-ONE

RIKI

Riki knew coming in that something bad had happened to Vera’s teahouse, but seeing the destruction in person is still a big enough shock that for a while, he’s unable to find the right words, if indeed there are right words to be said at such a time.

Vera Wang’s World-Famous Teahouse wasn’t a fancy place to begin with, but it had been neat. Now it looks like someone went through it and methodically broke every jar of tea and herbs, covering the floor with broken glass and tea leaves and dried herbs everywhere, like a horrible trash heap. It looks so awfully wrong that part of Riki wishes he could not be here. But then again, maybe that’s been the problem all along. He’d rather run away from problems than face them. Well, no longer.

Which sounds more impressive than it really is, because honestly, Riki wouldn’t know how to run away from this problem even if he wanted to. Because it’s not just that a teahouse has been broken into. A teahouse where Marshall Chen died just a week ago has been broken into, and now Riki is standing in the middle of a literal mess while Vera strides up and down, flapping her arms and ranting loud enough to be heard above the crunching of broken glass under her shoes.

“Look at this!” she cries for the seventh time.

Riki wonders when the others will arrive. Don’t they know that a strapping young lad like him is no match for the utter force that is Vera Wong in a rage?

“They break everything! How can? They don’t think of how wasteful it is, oh no, they just smash everything!”

Riki can only nod in agreement. He should probably say something, but he has no idea what, and it seems a shame to spoil Vera’s tirade. He could swear she’s enjoying the uninterrupted rant. The little bell above the door tinkles as the door swings open to reveal Sana. Riki could cry with relief at the sight of her, he really could. Also, he can’t help but notice how pretty she looks today. Not that she doesn’t look pretty other days. Gah, even in his own head he’s hopeless at this stuff.

Sana’s eyes light up when she sees him, and Riki can’t help but smile. Then Sana takes in the destruction before her and her mouth drops open in horror, and now Riki feels extremely stupid for smiling in the middle of a little old lady’s robbed store. Of all the highly inappropriate times to be smiling! He wants to apologize and explain that he’s smiling not because he finds anything funny, but because... uh, he thought Sana had smiled at him fir— Nope, never mind, that sounds even worse.

“Oh, Vera,” Sana says, going directly to the old woman and hugging her tight. “Are you okay? Oh, this is terrible!”

Hugs. Why didn’t Riki think of hugging Vera? He watches, dumbly, as Oliver walks in, followed by Julia, who’s carrying little Emma. They all gasp at the mess, then Emma walks over to Vera and grasps Vera’s hand in her tiny one, patting it and saying, “Don’t cry, Grandma. It’ll be okay.” Yep, this is definitely how normal people react at a time like this. Riki himself only stood there gaping like a stunned fish after stammering, “What happened?” as though it wasn’t obvious what had happened.

Vera smiles as she accepts all the hugs being given her way. Then she straightens up and brushes off her pants. “I come down this morning and the shop is like this.” She gestures around the small space. “All my rare teas destroyed, just like that!”

“Did you hear anything?” Riki says.

“Oh no, I always put in earplugs when I sleep because San Francisco so noisy, you know. At night can hear sirens, people shouting, laughing, that kind of thing.”

“You’ve called the cops, right?” Julia says.

Vera blinks. “No, I don’t want to. What good have they do? Nothing! I even go to the station, asking them to investigate more, and they tell me to stay away.”

“But, Vera,” Julia says, “this is serious. Someone broke in! Look at the place. I think you need to report this.”

“They will just say is drunk kids from SF State or Berkeley. Anyway, is okay, I will do my investigation myself.”

Riki wants to push her into reporting it too, but then he thinks of what that would entail. The fact that he’d have to talk to the police himself, that they would come round and dig, and dig, and no doubt they’d put the break-in and the murder together and tie all these strings together, and who knows what it’ll lead to?

“I think Vera is right,” Sana says. Riki glances at her in surprise. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to call the cops.” She licks her lips, looking at them with wide eyes. “I just—I don’t know, I haven’t been impressed with how they’ve handled everything.”

That makes no sense, Riki thinks, but a larger part of him is sagging with relief. Yes, don’t call the cops , it squeaks. He looks around at the others, and they too are looking hesitant and uneasy, as though they are torn about what to do. Surely they’re all hiding something too, because normal people would definitely want to call the cops, right? He has no idea what to think. His mind is as much a mess as the shop is.

He steps farther into the shop and peers over the counter before turning to Vera. “Did they take anything? Is money missing?”

Vera shakes her head. “No, I check my safe and nothing is taken.”

“Where’s your safe located?” Oliver says.

“Upstair in my house.”

“Hmm.” Oliver frowns, glancing around. “So that doesn’t rule out the possibility that they might have been looking for money and didn’t want to risk going upstairs.”

“Aiya, you think they might have come upstair and murder me?” Vera cries. Beside her, Julia wraps an arm around Vera’s narrow shoulders and squeezes while little Emma clings to Vera’s leg.

“No,” Riki says quickly, before he even realizes what he’s about to say. Everyone looks at him, and he wants to sink into the ground. “I—uh, it’s unlikely. I think that’s exactly what they didn’t want to do. They didn’t want to hurt anyone, they only wanted to look for... something.” It’s only after the words are out that Riki realizes just how shady they sound, because uh, how the hell would Riki know what the burglars were after?

“There can only be one person,” Vera says. “It is the killer.”

Riki freezes. He can’t even muster up the brain cells to remind himself to blink, or breathe.

“It is, right? The killer come back because there is some evidence that they are looking for.” The more Vera says, the more certain she looks, her eyes glowing with a righteous flame. “Marshall must have leave behind some clue about who kill him. You see? If we call the police, they will just bungle it all up. They will tell me to stop meddling in investigation. No, it’s clear, I have to do this myself. I am on the right track, I must be doing something right, that’s why the killer break in.”

I might throw up , Riki thinks. I might actually hurl right now, this very minute, standing here with this old lady and these suspicious strangers in this broken shop.

Vera isn’t done with her speech. “Now we know that even though Marshall die from allergy reaction, it is in fact murderrr .” She stretches out the word with so much drama that Riki is somehow surprised that there isn’t an accompanying thunderclap.

His faux pas in mentioning that whoever it was must have been looking for something, paired with the shattered remains of Vera’s jars everywhere around them, somehow increases in intensity until it reaches a crescendo, overwhelming all his senses. All Riki can hear is the roar of his blood as every drop of it seems to rush into his head, a deafening sound that drowns out everything, even his thoughts. He can see it in his mind’s eye, the force that it took for someone to smash these thick jars, dashing them across the floor, their innards scattering everywhere like brains spattering out of a smashed skull. And there, on the floor, staring up at him accusingly, is the outline of Marshall’s body, looking particularly gruesome with the mess all over it. It’s almost as though Marshall has just died all over again. There is so much violence around him. And suddenly, as though a jagged piece of glass has just been stabbed into Riki’s head, the memory slices into his mind.

His fist, as though an entirely separate entity from his body, swinging so fast he could feel the wind whistling past it. Making that horrible, delightful, satisfying wet crunch against Marshall’s cheek. The way Riki’s knuckles had felt every single layer of Marshall’s face then—his cheek moist with slight perspiration, then the surprising soft yield of Marshall’s cheek, followed by the painful shock of his cheekbone crunching against Riki’s hand. The way the pain had seared all the way up Riki’s wrist and forearm and elbow.

And, above all, how good it had felt. How the monster inside him had wanted to hit Marshall again, and again, until nothing was left.

It’s too much. Riki can’t bear it. He stumbles outside, glass crunching under his sneakers, stares following his back. He knows he must seem guilty as hell, and he is. Vera mentioned the nasty bruise on Marshall’s cheek, and no doubt the police would be looking into that, and all this while, here’s Riki, the very cause of the bruise, hiding in plain sight. Why is he even here? Why didn’t he just stay the hell away?

Because guilty people can’t stay away from the crime scene.

Riki’s never hit anyone in his entire life, until that night, but that’s not going to matter. No one will believe him, not when the first person he hits turns up dead the very next morning. All this time, he’d thought that he was doing everything he could for Adi, but all he’s done is fucked everything up beyond measure. Tears rush into his eyes.

“You okay?”

The voice jerks Riki out of his spiral and he looks up to see Sana next to him, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. He turns his head so she won’t see the way he’s this close to bawling. “Sorry, it’s just—it’s a lot to take in.”

Sana nods sympathetically. “Yeah, god, someone really wanted to smash up her shop. Poor Vera.”

Poor Vera indeed. Riki’s insides twist painfully. He actually feels physically ill. He’s familiar with this feeling, especially ever since meeting Marshall. God, what a cursed day that was. He wishes he could turn back time and grab his past self and shriek at him to run the hell away.

“I think we should offer to help her clean everything up.” It takes a moment for Riki to realize what he’s just said. Help clean everything up? All he wants to do is run away and never come back. But, selfishly, he also knows that cleaning everything well would hopefully make the place less suspicious to the police. Vera did say she wouldn’t contact the police, but it’s best to be extra safe. Sweep away any evidence that might remain here.

Sana’s face lights up and she says, “Ah! What a great idea!” And before Riki knows what’s happening, Sana grabs his sleeve and pulls him back inside. Every part of him is wailing, Nooo! But there is no timeline in this reality where Riki would pull his arm away from a pretty girl, even if said pretty girl is leading him back inside a claustrophobic shop filled with ghastly debris.

“Vera,” Sana calls out, “don’t worry.” Inside, she lets go of Riki’s arm and goes directly to Vera, putting her hands on the old woman’s shoulders. “I know this is terrible,” Sana says gently, “but don’t worry, Vera, we’re going to fix up your shop for you, okay? All of us here are going to help you with it.” She glances up at the others, and for a second, Sana looks almost as fierce as Vera. Riki finds himself nodding almost automatically. Julia and Oliver nod as well, and Emma says, “Emma helps too.”

“Oh,” Vera chokes out. “You don’t have to. I hate to be bother.” To Riki’s surprise, Vera’s cheeks are red. In fact, even the tips of her ears are red. The sight of it makes him feel suddenly protective of her. She might be formidable in some—well, okay, most—situations, but at the end of the day, Vera is a frail old lady who doesn’t deserve to have her shop smashed up.

“We want to do it,” he says with a firmness that takes even himself aback.

Vera moans. “I don’t know, I think maybe is better if I stay with my son. I don’t feel safe here, you know? What if whoever break in come back to finish off the job? Oh, but I also don’t want to be a bother to Tilly. He is so busy...” She trails off meaningfully, and for a second, they’re all quiet as frantic eye contact is made among all of them, silent messages flying back and forth.

Finally, with a sigh, Julia says, “You can stay with us.”

“What?” they all say.

“Oh, I can’t bother you like that—” Vera sputters.

But Julia points at the broken lock on Vera’s rickety front door. “At least until we get your lock fixed. It won’t take any time at all. And, Vera, I really think you need to pause on this investigation. I don’t want you to endanger yourself. Come stay with me and Emma for a couple days. Keep us company.” She smiles, looking a bit uncertain herself.

Emma, sensing her cue, nods and says solemnly, “You come sleep with Emma.”

Vera hesitates, looking very torn. Then she releases a long breath and says, “If you insisting, then okay.”

Riki stares in amazement as Julia nods and smiles. He never would’ve seen this offer coming from Julia. When he first met her, she came across as weak-willed and very lost, but now here she is, opening up her home to an almost complete stranger. And Sana, insisting that they clean up Vera’s shop. He feels his affection and respect for them growing, and surely that is a mistake, a bad omen, when the thing that has brought them all together is an unsolved murder.