Chapter 6

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AN:

Hello my beautiful people

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Hello my beautiful people. Holy shit it's been awhile.

Most of you have probably forgotten about this book because it's been so long since I've updated, but if you haven't, welcome back and strap in.

Because it's been awhile I would strongly recommend going back and rereading the last few chapters so you can brush up on all the critical details (they are really important). I haven't forgotten about this book, I am just super critical of what I write, hence why I have written and rewritten this chapter a million times. I still don't know how I feel about it so you will have to let me know what you think.

This chapter is pretty heavy, but I have a feeling you won't mind. Just bear with me.

Thank you all so much for your patience and as always PLEASE let me know what you think! I seriously love reading through your comments and theories and it makes me so much more excited to keep writing.

I hope you enjoy.

xx

-hal

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4 YEARS AGO:

"Elliot? You home bud?"

I quickly shut the door behind me and shrug off my backpack and jacket, looking around at the seemingly vacant apartment before me.

Was he not home yet?

I flick my gaze to my watch and purse my lips to the side.

5:47 P.M.

"Elliot?" I call out again, louder this time, but am met with the same silence.

That's weird. He should have already gotten off of work by now. He usually gets off at 5. Did Dad make him stay late again? Did he just get caught up?

I make my way over to the living room window to look out at the dark cloudy sky outside and my stomach churns.

There was a thunderstorm that was supposed to hit within the next hour or so, and I had practically bolted home from class to make it back in time.

Elliot said he would be back by the time I got home, knowing full well how I get during storms and how the idea of being alone right in the middle of one is enough to send me into a panic.

He'll be here. I know he will. 

I take a seat on the couch and rub my sweaty palms on the denim of my jeans, my nerves beginning to rise.

Focus on something else. Something small.

I look around at our messy living room. A view that was quite typical given Elliot's tendency to leave stacks of his current reads wherever it was convenient, which just happened to be everywhere. A habit that he still hasn't seemed to outgrow.

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