The plague buzzed around the room, storming through the crowd, doing its best to demolish the lemmings.

“What did you say?” Romeo stopped walking. “To me? Just now”

Ben slowed his pace and turned to look at his friend.

“Huh?”

“You were mumbling something. Something about lemons?”

He threw one last look over at the clustered line in front of the abandoned building. It was dark enough he supposed. Really, everyone knew the cops didn’t care about this section of Radburn. They were too busy trolling the nicer neighborhoods for trespassers and the city for gangbangers.

Romeo followed his gaze and nodded. Ben shrugged. What else was there to say?

“Still no word?”

The long shaggy edges of Ben’s hair bounced in and out of his eyes as he shook his head. Romeo could have been asking about his college applications or the highlight video he was making. He wasn’t though. No one would ask him about his sister, not by name. Ben picked up his pace, Romeo caught up with him leaving the conversation behind.

They walked up and down the blocks. Ben counted the various bodegas, convenient stores, and newsstands. Always the same numbers, even when one closed down, another popped right back up. There were at least a half dozen coffee places, a few chains, more specialized local ones sprouting up. It was good to see.

Romeo gave his review of each one as they passed. New girlfriend, she was his ex’s cousin but what was a man in love to do? She had a thing for coffee – lattes specifically – Ben was sure by the end of the night he would have a thing for them too. He figured Romeo was in love or taking really good notes to pretend to be. Ben would have never thought to put honey in coffee, but apparently, L’Arte Latte down the block made the best.

The name had stood out to people, the bright Parisian decor, everything about it stood out like knock-off Jordan’s on the court. But, small business was good. They needed more of that in Radburn.

The crowd huddled at the old K-Mart. Was it a K-Mart? Or had it been something else since then? It was a crap location for anything. Anything other than the college kids back from school exchanging their exotic drugs for dead men’s faces. It was all the same stuff. But something in the exclusivity of it all blinded the kids. They passed by the building again, same crowd, different kids.

All because it came from Connecticut or Massachusetts, wherever the damn Ivy Leaguers went off to. Labeled with fancy names instead of exactly what it was: Himalayan Pink, Burnt Champagne, or Pixie Dust. Even the police had given it a name, the plague. No one wanted to face the truth. They were the same drugs anyone could get from the city – the same stuff they bought of local dealers when the Ivy Leaguers left for their bright, shining futures.

Romeo’s phone lit up in his hand. His new girlfriend smushed between a cup of coffee and Romeo filled his screen. He swiped to open the FaceTime as Ben waved goodbye. They split off taking different routes around the development. The first wave of what was supposed to be the place in Radburn. Instead, it crashed before the trees had been cleared for the second. A dream gone before it was realized.

On nights like this, summer giving way to fall it was easy to pretend that’s where his sister was – off living in the world of the rich and privileged. It was better than worrying if her last moments were at the rough hands of some inner city drug lord. Ben stood in front of his house, its sagging roof and chipped shutters. It looked as defeated as Ben felt. The truth was no one knew what happened to his sister. There wasn’t a catchy name or euphemism for “teen drug addict missing.” Certainly no search groups or follow up interviews. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, Sasha had gone from a girl to a statistic. Another customer popping back up to replace her before the trail had gone cold.

Ben shook his head and visualized her at some party turning away all the star athlete and frat boys away so she could dance with her girls. Her turning in early so she could ace whatever test she had the next morning. Sasha with her own small business. A cafe shop with an 80s vibe and the newest coffee trends. Romeo’s flavor of the week telling all her friends about it.

His smile faded as he walked down the hall to his room. His parents huddled in the living room. His father enveloping his wife like a human shield. The news played softly in the background: BODY OF TEEN GIRL IDENTIFIED AS MORGAN RAE. As if he could protect her from reality. It hadn’t been Sasha. How could it, he thought slipping into his bedroom, she was off taking the world by storm.