The Devil In Disguise

Comfort In The Darkness

    The ride home was eerily quiet, and Gianina found herself staring out the window, watching the world blur by in shades of orange and gold. The autumn sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the streets of Ashford. Normally, she would have enjoyed this time of year, the cool breeze, the rustling of leaves beneath her feet—but nothing felt normal anymore.

The week had been brutal, and now, with Halloween just days away, there was an added tension in the air that no one seemed able to shake. Destiny and Jamie's death still weighed heavily on all of them, and the detectives questioning everyone earlier in the day had only added to the suffocating pressure.

Marcus, ever the steady presence, had insisted on driving her home. She didn't fight him on it. She hated the idea of being alone in that big, empty house, with its echoing silence and too many memories. Her parents' deaths had left her with a house that felt like a mausoleum, and the recent tragedies made it even worse.

They pulled into the driveway, and Marcus cut the engine. For a moment, they both just sat there, the car filled with unspoken words. Gianina glanced over at him. His face was drawn, his eyes fixed on the steering wheel. She hadn't seen him like this before—so closed off, so distant. It was like part of him had shut down after Jamie's murder, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach him.

"I'll stay with you for a while," Marcus said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, like he was fighting to keep himself steady.

Gianina nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wanted to tell him that she missed him, that she needed him, but the words felt stuck. Instead, she just got out of the car and led the way to the front door.

The house felt colder than usual when they stepped inside, and the familiar loneliness crept up her spine. She hated it—the way the house seemed to loom over her, too big for just one person. It used to be filled with laughter, with her parents' voices, with the comforting hum of life. But now, it was just empty.

She kicked off her shoes by the door and headed toward the kitchen, desperate to do something, anything, to distract herself from the gnawing anxiety in her chest.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked, her voice sounding too loud in the stillness.

"I'm good," Marcus replied, but he followed her into the kitchen anyway, leaning against the counter as he watched her grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

Gianina could feel his eyes on her, heavy with concern, and it made her heart ache. He had always been the one to take care of her, the one who knew how to make her feel safe. But now, there was a distance between them that she didn't know how to bridge.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but serious.

She let out a shaky breath, twisting the cap off the water bottle. "I don't know. I feel like everything is spiraling out of control, and I don't know how to stop it. The detectives, the questions... It's like we're all just waiting for something terrible to happen."

Marcus crossed the room in a few quick steps, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of him—earthy and comforting. For a moment, she let herself relax into the embrace, closing her eyes and letting him hold her together.

"I know," he whispered, his voice rough against her hair. "I'm sorry I've been so distant. I just... I don't know how to deal with any of this."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His face was etched with worry, his eyes dark and tired. "You don't have to deal with it alone," she said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. "We're in this together, Marcus."