Shattered ✓

F I F T Y

Alexa

Andrew and I walked in silence.

Elliot's house wasn't far—it never had been. But tonight, the distance felt longer than usual. Maybe it was because neither of us knew what we were walking into.

The last time I'd seen Elliot, he had blood on his hands.

Literally.

And now, four days had passed with nothing. No calls, no texts, no explanations. Just radio silence.

I knew him. I knew how he was. He'd always been distant, kept things to himself, acted like nothing could touch him.

But this was different.

And I hated it.

Andrew shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, his jaw tight as we turned the corner onto Elliot's street. "If he tries to act like nothing's wrong, I swear to God—"

"He will," I cut in.

Andrew sighed, rubbing his temple. "Yeah. I know."

We stopped in front of Elliot's house.

The porch light was off.

That wasn't normal.

Andrew didn't hesitate—he walked straight up to the door and knocked, hard.

Nothing.

I stepped up beside him, my stomach twisting. "Maybe he's not home."

Andrew knocked again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

"Maybe we should just—"

The lock clicked.

I barely had time to react before the door cracked open just enough for Elliot to peek out.

And immediately, I knew something was wrong.

His eyes were dull. Red-rimmed. Like he hadn't slept. His face was pale, his hair a mess. He smelled like...

Alcohol.

I stiffened.

Elliot wasn't an idiot. He knew what we were seeing—what we were realizing. And yet, his expression didn't change.

"Can I help you?" he muttered.

Andrew stared. "Seriously? That's what you're gonna say right now?"

Elliot exhaled through his nose, tilting his head like we were annoying him. Like we hadn't been worried sick for four fucking days.

"What do you want?" he asked flatly.

I wanted to punch him.

But more than that? I wanted him to stop pretending.

Andrew took a step forward, jaw clenched. "Dude. We haven't heard from you. At all. And now you're—" He gestured vaguely. "—like this?"

Elliot scoffed. "Like what?"

"Like you don't give a shit!"

That made Elliot's lip curl, just slightly. "I don't."

Bullshit.

I stepped in before Andrew lost it. "Elliot. We just want to talk."

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms lazily. "Yeah? About what? About how I killed a guy?"

Andrew let out a sharp breath. "Elliot—"

"You should go," Elliot interrupted, pushing off the doorframe.