But why? Everyone knew Derek didn’t take care of himself. It was ridiculous to think we’d do something to him. I dropped my face into my hands. “But we’re innocent. So it’ll be OK, right? We’ll all be fine?”

Adeena grinned and tossed her hair. “Of course you will. Amir’s on his way, isn’t he? He’ll take care of everything.”

I wasn’t one to play the damsel in distress, but at that moment, I clung to those supportive words like the lifeline they were. Amir “The Golden Boy” Awan was coming and everything was going to be OK. It had to be.

But behind Adeena’s back, I could see my godmothers shaking their heads, like they knew what was to come.

Chapter Six

Someone will need to come over and collect the evidence. We have no pictures of the scene, but luckily the dishes haven’t been washed yet. Send someone now before—” Detective Park was speaking on the phone as he swung back into the dining area from the kitchen, but stopped short when he saw our group listening in. “Just send someone.”

I crossed my arms as he hung up. “Find what you were looking for? And what exactly are we being accused of?”

Detective Park held his hands out. “There are no accusations being thrown around. At least, not on the part of the Shady Palms Police Department. A complaint was made about the suspicious death of a young man in good health, so I was called in to make sure he died of natural causes.”

“Derek wasn’t in good health, though,” Adeena said. “He was a diabetic with a sweet tooth and didn’t always mind the doctor’s orders. The fact that he was eating dessert before dying is proof of that.”

Detective Park arched an eyebrow as he wrote this down. “I didn’t realize the two of you were friends, Miss Awan.”

“‘Miz.’”

“Excuse me?”

“I prefer ‘Ms.’ not ‘Miss’ if you’re going to use titles.” She gestured to me. “We both do. And no, we weren’t friends, but we’ve known each other since high school.”

When that didn’t seem to satisfy the detective I sighed and added, “We all went to high school together. He was a couple of years older than us, but he and I dated for a while. Adeena and I are both familiar with his history of diabetes and his general behavior.”

The detective’s eyebrow stayed arched as he asked, “You dated the deceased?”

I crossed my arms. “Yes, but we broke up years ago. Before I even left for college.”

The Calendar Crew started whispering among themselves again at this, and I glared at them. Good thing the detective didn’t understand Tagalog, because I did not appreciate the play-by-play they were giving of my old relationship.

Detective Park must’ve guessed the general content of their conversation, though, because he asked my aunt, “Rosie, is there somewhere I can conduct these interviews in private? And I’m sorry, ladies, but you’ll have to stay in this room while I’m holding the interviews. No wandering around.”

“Hold on, shouldn’t we wait for Amir? I don’t think he’d want us to talk without him around,” I said.

“Ay, Lila, you worry too much. I just want to get this over with. You can use my office, Jonathan,” Tita Rosie said, leading him toward a small room hidden near the back. “You sure I can’t fix you something to eat? Or drink, at least? You look so tired.”

I tried to hide a smile. A detective told her she’s being blamed for someone’s death and my aunt was more worried about his well-being than her own. That’s my Tita Rosie for you.

Detective Park seemed to understand this as well, since he smiled and said, “Sorry, Rosie, I’m on duty. Maybe later though.”

My aunt nodded, and Detective Park gestured at Ninang Mae to follow him to the office. We waited till the door closed before we all started speaking at once.

“Why do you think he wants to talk to us alone?”

“What do you think they’re talking about in there? I hate not knowing what’s going on.”

“Do you think they’ll actually find anything suspicious in the dishes they took away?”

“Don’t worry about it, Lila. It’s just like Derek to cause trouble, even in death.”

My godmothers stopped clucking long enough to admonish Adeena. “Hoy! We do not speak ill of the dead. Diyos ko,” they added, crossing themselves.

“So we’re just going to pretend Derek was a saint, even though we all know what he was?” I asked.

Before my godmothers could respond, Lola Flor held up her hand. “Tama na.”

“Enough,” she said. We sat quietly at the table, nibbling our treats while waiting for the detective to call on us. Ninang Mae had just switched out with Tita Rosie when Amir arrived.

He rushed over to me. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I was in the middle of a meeting when Adeena called.” He sat down and pulled out his iPad to take notes. “Walk me through exactly what happened. Start when Derek first arrived.”

I took a deep breath. “Derek and Mr. Long came over to eat around ten. They finished their food and Lola Flor brought out dessert. But the dessert had coconut, which Mr. Long is allergic to, so I brought him a dish I’d been working on instead.”

Amir nodded, taking notes on his tablet. “And then what?”

I tried to think back. “I think Derek had already eaten the suman when I came back, but the bowl of ginataang bilo-bilo was untouched. I gave Mr. Long the cookies, jam, and ice cream platter I’d made and both of them started eating.”

I almost repeated the hurtful comment Derek made about my baking, but refrained. “Derek was eating too much of Mr. Long’s dessert, so Mr. Long suggested Derek stick to his own food. I pushed the bowl toward him and he started eating. He seemed to be enjoying it, but then he suddenly . . . he just . . .”

“He passed out, facedown into the bowl,” Ninang April cut in. “And you forgot to mention how terrible he looked. All sweaty and pale, diba? Edwin even gave Derek his handkerchief to clean himself up.” She shook her head. “That boy was sick before he ever touched the desserts.”

Amir stopped typing and looked back and forth between me and Ninang April. “Is this true? Because that’s a very important detail.”

I thought back, chewing my lower lip in concentration. “She’s right. He also seemed to have trouble breathing. I didn’t think much of it at the time. He was being so . . . himself, and it distracted me.”

Amir continued typing. “What happened after he fainted?”

I flushed. “I, uh, thought he was joking at first. Just being a jerk, you know? So I yelled at him a bit. But when it became clear he wasn’t playing, I pulled him upright and Ninang June performed CPR while I called 911. He was breathing, but barely. I didn’t know what else to do, but the ambulance got here quickly and took him away. He was still alive when they left.” I bit my lip. “I think? No, definitely. I remember hearing him throw up as they rolled him away.”

Amir stopped typing and put a hand on my shoulder. “Lila, you did what you could. There wasn’t anything else you could’ve done that would’ve saved him.”

The warmth from his hand radiated through my body, and I luxuriated in it for a moment before pulling away. I didn’t want to get used to his touch—not at a moment like this, and certainly not in front of Adeena.

“You don’t know that. What if he was suffocating while I yelled at him? All because I thought it was a joke? What if there was food blocking his airway and I could’ve done something to clear it before Ninang June took over? What if my actions were the only things between Derek living and dying?”

Adeena wrapped her arms around me. “Why are you putting all this on yourself? It’s not like you were the only two in the room. Auntie June is a trained professional nurse and even she couldn’t do much before the ambulance got here. And for all Mr. Long’s complaints, why wasn’t he the first at Derek’s side to try and help him?” She paused, as if something just came to her. “What was he doing when all this was going on?”

I looked over at my godmothers. “I’m not sure, actually. I was so focused on Derek. Did either of you see?”

Ninang June shook her head, but Ninang April said, “Not sure what he was doing immediately after Derek passed out. My attention was on all the action. But when June was giving Derek CPR, I saw Mr. Long playing with his food. I remember thinking it was a strange thing to be doing right then.”

Ninang June frowned. “Maybe Derek has food allergies and Mr. Long was checking to see what was in the bowl? Poor man. What’s he going to tell Nancy?”

Now it was Ninang April’s turn to shake her head. “I don’t envy him that. How do you tell a mother her child is dead?”

We all sat silently with that thought. I couldn’t help but glance at my Lola Flor, who got up and walked to the kitchen (blatantly disregarding Detective Park’s instructions to not move around the restaurant, but good luck telling her that). She’d gone through this before, the loss of a son. I was young when I lost my parents—they were a pleasant but hazy memory my aunt tried to keep alive for me.