The Expansion of the Universe

Seventeen | "Open up!"

She was waiting for Elijah's knock by the front door rather impatiently six days later. Elijah had left the day after their hug for a long cargo flight, but not before he dropped a gentle kiss to her forehead and said, "Wait for me, will you, babe? I want a hug when I get back." He'd winked and then left, and she'd stood with one hand on the closed door after it was shut behind him, her chest feeling empty.

Five days had felt like five years. She'd talked with Dr. Whitney and had tried several times to call her mom; she'd finally gotten to the point where she'd been able to turn the phone on, but she still hadn't been able to go through with the call.

But now that Elijah would be back at any moment, she was settled just to the left of the door so she could open it without too much difficulty, her hands rubbing over Milo's fluffy neck as he cuddled against her chest.

"Anytime now," she told Milo brightly, excited to see her only human companion (Whitney was paid to talk to her, so that relationship didn't count). Since allowing him inside and realizing that the world wouldn't end, Liza found herself missing him more than usual when he wasn't around.

She was also more worried.

Everyone she spoke to directly after the accident had gone on and on about how rare plane crashes were, but Liza didn't care. The fact of the matter was simple: Plane crashes weren't common, but they still happened.

She knew that better than anyone.

And so, what would happen if Elijah was involved in one? What if he died?

Oh, God, they very thought of losing him sent her into an entirely different kind of panic that she'd been unfamiliar with since the crash; she rarely worried about anyone other than herself—a selfish trait, she was sure, even though Whitney assured her it was merely a survival instinct—but now . . .

Well, she was worried about Elijah.

The worry slid away when she heard a car pull up outside the condo. It was a little odd for him to pull straight into her driveway, but he had done it once before, so she didn't dwell on it. Instead, she hopped off the floor and allowed her hand to hover over the bottommost of the three locks on the door, and the only one still latched, waiting for his patterned knock.

Her fingers curled back into themselves when she heard his heavy footfalls up the stairs, taking an uneasy step away from the door and watching the oak warily.

He sounded . . . mad? His steps seemed so weighty—

Five harsh thuds landed against her door, so heavy in their delivery that they made the oak shake and sent Liza skittering backwards, her eyes wide and her heart pumping a loud, anxious rhythm in her ears as she tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Five knocks. Five angry knocks.

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

One, two, three, four, five.

Five.

Someone was outside.

Someone was outside her condo, knocking on the door five times instead of three, and it wasn't Elijah.

"Open up!" Came the bellow, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. "Elizabeth Garner, I know you're in there! Open this fucking door!"

He was screaming.

Screaming.

Terrible things always, always, always started with screaming.

Screaming, burning, crashing—

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

—grating of metal, a jolt as they hit the ground, bouncing and twisting and feeling as though the world was truly about to end—