The apartment was filled with the kind of quiet that happens to you. It wasn’t invited and it wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. Like when people watch someone administering first aid to an unconscious stranger.

I can outlast most people in an extended awkward silence, but on this occasion Igraine got the best of me.

“I’ll take you up on that cup of coffee, you offered earlier,” I said.

“We’re out of beans.”

I took that to mean she wanted me to leave, but just so there was no confusion, she grabbed the tin from the counter and turned it upside down. A few beans fell to the floor and scattered. She must have used the last for Avalon.

For a moment, I was upset she didn’t have any emergency coffee, but instead of complaining, I offered, “I’ll pick some up for you.”

She put the tin back on the counter and crossed her arms. “What kind?”

“Maybe you should come with me, then.”

“No, I’ll be staying here.”

“Why? Big plans?”

“No, I might have an episode.”

Oh great, something else is wrong with her. I thought and then regretted it. Avalon had been right. The lack of rest was affecting me.

She continued before I figured out how to rephrase my question into one that was less offensive.

“Ever since that first night of Avalon’s curse, I can’t exactly control when I fall asleep. I get bursts of energy followed by extreme fatigue. If I’m lucky I’ll catch a few uninterrupted hours.” She was doing a miserable job of hiding her shame. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Paranormal encounters take a heavy toll on people. She needed to hear it. Someone needed to say it.

Unfortunately, the universe conspired to have me be the only other one in the room.

I said, “Maybe, I’ll skip the beans and get a cup to go.” And then on instinct I said the single worst thing I could have. “Would you like me to bring you back a cup?”

“Of coffee? Caffeinated coffee? The kind that keeps people awake? Are you sure the other person is the reason you suck at conversations?”

I shrugged an apology, which went unheard.

She shook her head and left the kitchen, headed for her bedroom.

After she closed the door behind her, there couldn’t have been a more obvious signal for me to leave. But she said in stern voice, “Feel free to leave any time”.

Instead of getting coffee, I went back to my office for a nap on the long couch in the waiting area. It was one of those sleeps where I woke up more tired than before. I was tempted to turn over and go back to sleep when I realized that, if I did, I would not be able to avoid the evening rush hour. My stomach gurgled as I sat up, so I grabbed a Styrofoam cup of noodles along with my jacket and headed out.

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Coffee would be a necessity for any conversation tonight. Unless they wanted to see me grumpy, which I doubted since they barely tolerated me when I was pleasant. After I parked the Benz a few streets over from their place, I picked up a paper to-go cup from a corner coffee store.

After walking the distance from the coffee shop to their building, I buzzed for them to let me in, but Igraine was still on guard duty.

“Did you get my coffee order right?”

“None.”

“Why are you holding two cups, then?”

I looked around unsuccessfully for the camera I had missed.

“One is microwave noodles.” I said in a voice that was unafraid, but not proud.

There was not an immediate response. It felt like I was making eye contact with the speaker. I didn’t want to look away because I didn’t know how it would look on her camera.

At the moment I was starting to say, “You need to push the button,” she asked, “Why would you bring me those?”

“They’re for me, actually. I haven’t had dinner yet.”

Buzz.

Inside the apartment, I asked if I could use the microwave. Pointing to it was Igraine’s way of saying yes. I filled the cup with water and fumbled with the buttons a couple of times, needing to remind myself that this should take significantly less time than I was used to.

“You get any rest?” I asked.

“Only about fifteen minutes and then I was up worrying about tomorrow.”

At that, Avalon entered the apartment dragging a paper bag filled with enough Chinese takeout to feed a track team.

Her smile glowed. “You two look like you’re getting along.”

The microwave dinged.

Avalon continued, “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have told you I was bringing food home. But if you’ve already made something, I won’t be offended.”

Igraine took the bag and started taking out its contents while Avalon went to the kitchen to pull out plates and utensils, including some plastic chopsticks.

I took the warm cup of noodles and dumped them in the trash.

My long-running frustration with the cheap microwave meal did not last past the first mouthful of fried rice.

Avalon also made some tea to go along with the meal, serving it from a small pot into cups that did not have handles.

Igraine and Avalon sat across the table from each other, leaving me to decide who I was going to sit next to and who I was going to face.

I pulled up a cushion next to Igraine.

“So what did you two do today?” Avalon asked.

We both stuffed a large amount of food in our mouths to avoid answering.

“It went that well, did it?”

Igraine finished chewing. “We don’t need this guy, Av.”

“Don’t start. Were you able to rest today?”

“Yes.”

I said, “She’s lying.”

Avalon closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she wiped a tear with the same hand.

“Sorry,” Igraine whispered.

“It’s my last evening. I want to be burden-free while we eat.”

“Of course,” I said.

“We’ll talk business after the meal,” She said.

The conversation after dinner was one that lasted hours, and nothing new was introduced or uncovered. We kept circling a drain, hoping to find a way to keep from falling over the edge.

An alarm went off on Igraine’s phone. “Um, Avalon,” she said, and Avalon announced she was going to bed.

It seemed normal until I remembered she slept in a coffin and needed Igraine to lock her inside.

“Good night.” I failed to make the words sound normal.

The two of them walked into her bedroom, and after a while, Igraine walked out. From the way she looked, I never would have guessed this was something she did every night.

I didn’t know if I should ask if everything was ok, which wasn’t helpful because nothing about today or tomorrow could be considered alright.

“You ever see anything like this before?” she asked.

“Nope. But not necessarily the strangest case I’ve had.”

“She’ll start shaking the coffin soon. It’s soft, but it’ll be the only thing I can hear.”

For the last year, Igraine had to live with murdering her friend every night. I imagine each time she feared Avalon would not wake up in the morning.

I pulled a random book off their shelf of green books.

“Mind if I read, then?”

“Go ahead.”

It wasn’t just the sound of the coffin shaking that made it hard to concentrate, but the rattling of the chains as well.

An hour after the sounds from Avalon’s room stopped, Igraine went in and unlocked the coffin.