Bound By Sin

Code Red.

Genevieve paced the length of her bedroom, her fingers trembling as she held her phone to her ear. The room felt too quiet, too still, after Nicholas had left. The unease settled deep in her stomach, gnawing at her thoughts, making her feel like something terrible was on the verge of happening.

Her thumb hovered over Isabella's contact for a few seconds before she pressed call. The phone rang once, twice, and then she heard the familiar click as Isabella answered.

"Hey, Gen? What's up?" Isabella's voice was calm, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of panic building inside Genevieve.

Genevieve took a deep breath, trying to find her voice, but when she finally spoke, it came out shaky and broken. "I—I don't know what to do, Issy. Nicholas just came over, and he was... he was acting really weird."

"Weird how?" Isabella asked, her tone immediately shifting, laced with concern.

Genevieve swallowed hard, her throat tight. "He—he snuck into my room through the window. He looked so shaken up, and when I asked him what was wrong, he just... he just burst into tears. I've never seen him like that, Issy. He was panicking, saying he can't handle it anymore. He told me he's been having nightmares, nightmares where he's—" her voice cracked, and she had to force herself to continue, "—where he's... killing himself."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Genevieve could only hear her own shaky breathing. Then Isabella's voice came back, but this time it was filled with fear.

"What?" Isabella whispered. "What the hell, Gen?"

"I—I didn't know what to do," Genevieve stammered, her free hand shaking as she ran it through her hair. "He said the detectives are convinced it's him, like they're just waiting for him to slip up, and he... he can't take it anymore. He's convinced they're going to pin all the murders on him."

"Oh my God," Isabella breathed. "This is bad, Gen. This is really bad. Did he say anything else?"

Genevieve paused, biting her lip. She hadn't told Nicholas, but there was something else—something that gnawed at her insides, twisting her gut with dread. "There's more," she whispered. "When he came in, I... I noticed his hands were shaking, and when I looked down, there was blood on them."

"Blood?" Isabella's voice spiked with alarm. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I don't know," Genevieve admitted, her voice cracking. "I was scared. I didn't know how to bring it up without making him freak out more. He went to the bathroom, and when he came back, the blood was gone. He didn't say a word about it."

There was another long silence. Genevieve could practically feel Isabella's mind racing, the weight of what she'd just told her sinking in.

"Gen," Isabella finally said, her voice tight with urgency, "I'm coming over right now."

Genevieve's heart skipped a beat. "Issy, I—"

"I don't care," Isabella interrupted. "Stay where you are. Don't move, don't let anyone in, and lock all your doors and windows. I'm coming over. Now."

Before Genevieve could respond, the line went dead. Isabella had hung up.

Genevieve stood frozen, her phone still pressed to her ear. The silence in her room felt oppressive now, like the walls were closing in on her. She could feel her pulse racing, her hands trembling as her mind replayed the events of the night over and over.

The way Nicholas had stumbled into her room, broken and scared. His haunting words, the tears streaming down his face, the blood on his hands. What if... what if there was more to it than she wanted to believe? What if the detectives were right to suspect him?

The thought sent a chill down her spine, and she crossed the room, locking her window tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she checked the door, locking it too, just like Isabella had told her to.

She sank down onto her bed, curling her knees to her chest, her mind still spinning. The town had become a nightmare—murders happening one after the other, and now Nicholas, her friend, was at the center of it all. She wanted to believe he was innocent, that he was just scared and confused, but the blood on his hands... she couldn't shake that image from her mind.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity, until she heard a faint knocking at the door downstairs.