Bound By Sin

Dead Girl.

Genevieve sat on the couch with her parents, the news playing in the background, but she wasn't really paying attention. Her mind was a tangled mess, filled with thoughts of Nicholas and what had happened over the past few days. She hadn't been able to shake the creeping feeling that something was terribly wrong. Isabella hadn't texted her all day, and her heart had been gnawing at her with a cold dread.

The TV screen flickered with the evening news, and her mom, Victoria, was half-listening as she worked on her knitting, while her dad, Nathaniel, flipped through a magazine. Genevieve tried to keep her eyes on her phone, distracting herself, but the anchor's voice cut through the room, sending a chill straight to her bones.

"We have breaking news tonight out of our small town. The body of a young woman has been discovered just outside the city limits..."

Genevieve's stomach tightened, her fingers freezing mid-scroll. Something in the anchor's tone sent a bolt of fear shooting through her.

"...the body has been identified as that of Isabella Sterling, a local resident..."

Her heart stopped.

Isabella.

Her phone slipped out of her hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud, but Genevieve barely noticed. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as her entire world tilted on its axis.

"...police are investigating her death as a homicide, but no further details have been released at this time."

Genevieve's mind blanked out everything else the anchor said after that. All she could hear was Isabella's body.... homicide.... Isabella. The words echoed in her skull like a hammer, pounding and relentless.

"Gen?" Her mom's voice broke through the fog, concerned. "Honey, are you okay?"

But Genevieve couldn't answer. Her chest constricted painfully as a tidal wave of grief, terror, and guilt slammed into her all at once. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring the image of the reporter on the screen as the weight of what she had just heard crushed her.

Isabella was dead.

And Nicholas had done it.

Without saying a word, Genevieve shot up from the couch, her vision swimming with tears, her body trembling uncontrollably. She could feel her mom and dad's eyes on her, but she couldn't face them—couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

"Genevieve?" her dad called after her, but she was already storming out of the living room.

She ran down the hallway, her heart pounding so hard it hurt, and slammed her bedroom door behind her. The sound echoed through the house, but she didn't care. She collapsed onto her bed, her hands shaking as sobs wracked her body, the floodgates opening.

Isabella was gone.

Her best friend was dead, and it was all because of Nicholas.

"Why?" she cried out, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her face, soaking her pillow. "Why did you do this, Nicholas? Why?"

Her body trembled violently as the guilt and grief hit her in waves, choking her, drowning her in the knowledge that she had done nothing to stop it. She had promised Nicholas she wouldn't tell anyone. She had promised to protect him. And now Isabella was dead because of her silence, because she had let herself believe he wouldn't hurt anyone else.

But he had. And it was her fault.

She pressed her hands to her face, her sobs muffled against her palms. "I'm so sorry, Isa. I'm so sorry..."

Her thoughts raced, her mind flashing back to the moment Nicholas had asked her, "You haven't told anyone?" and she had lied. She had lied, and he knew. He must have known. He had killed Isabella to protect himself, and Genevieve had let him.

The guilt ripped through her like a jagged knife. How could she have let this happen? How could she have been so blind?

A sharp knock on her door made her freeze.

"Genevieve?" her mom's voice called softly from the other side. "Honey, what's going on? Please talk to me."

Genevieve bit down hard on her lip, trying to stop herself from making a sound, trying to hold back the sobs that were still clawing at her throat. She couldn't let her parents know the truth. They didn't know. They had no idea about Nicholas, about what he had told her. If they knew... if they found out, everything would come crashing down.

She couldn't do that to them. Not now. Not yet.

"I'm fine," she choked out, her voice thick with tears.

There was a pause on the other side of the door, and she could feel her mom's hesitation, the concern in her voice. "You don't sound fine. Gen, whatever it is... we can talk about it."

"I don't want to talk!" Genevieve shouted, her voice breaking with the weight of her emotions. "Please... just leave me alone."

Silence followed, and for a moment, she thought her mom might insist on coming in. But after a long pause, her mom's footsteps retreated down the hallway, leaving Genevieve alone once more.

She collapsed back onto her bed, burying her face in her hands, the tears flowing freely again. She had never felt so trapped, so powerless. The weight of the secret she was carrying was too much to bear, but she couldn't tell anyone. She had promised Nicholas. She had promised him, and now that promise was suffocating her, crushing her under the guilt of what had happened to Isabella.

"I'm so sorry, Isa," she whispered again, her voice trembling. "I should have stopped him. I should have done something..."

Her sobs turned to quiet, anguished gasps, her chest heaving as the reality of the situation hit her like a freight train. Isabella was gone. Her best friend was gone, and there was nothing she could do to bring her back.

And Nicholas.... Nicholas had done it.

Rage flared up inside her, white-hot and blinding. How could he? How could he kill Isabella? He had promised her he would be better. He had promised her he wouldn't hurt anyone else. And yet he had done it, without hesitation, without remorse. He had taken her best friend away, and now Genevieve was left with nothing but the shattered pieces of a friendship she could never repair.

"I hate you," she whispered, her voice hoarse, the words burning in her throat. "I hate you, Nicholas. I hate you for doing this."

But even as the anger consumed her, she knew deep down that the hatred wasn't enough. It couldn't undo what had been done. It couldn't bring Isabella back.

Genevieve lay there, her tears soaking into her pillow, her body trembling with the weight of everything she had lost. She was trapped in a nightmare, and there was no way out. The only thing left now was the guilt, the grief, and the unbearable knowledge that the boy she had once trusted had turned into a monster.

And she had done nothing to stop him.