EVELYN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Evelyn's POV

“Stay still, Evelyn,” a firm but gentle voice commanded. I blinked through the haze, the familiar face of the principal hovering above me. His eyes were stern but filled with concern.

I couldn’t respond, my throat dry and raw. My chest felt tight, every breath a struggle. I turned my head slightly, seeing a small group of students and teachers gathered around me, their whispers filling the air like static.

“I’m calling your parents,” the principal said. “You’re going home.”

The ride back was a blur. My father’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. My mother sat in the back with me, stroking my hair softly. Neither of them spoke, but the weight of their unasked questions pressed down on me.

---

When we got home, they guided me to the couch, sitting on either side of me. My brother, Max, stood a few steps away, his expression unreadable.

“Evelyn,” my father started, his voice low but steady. “Can you tell us what happened? What’s been going on?”

My mother leaned closer, her hand on mine. “We just want to help, sweetheart.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. The words were there, burning my throat, but I couldn’t push them past my lips. My body trembled, my fingers gripping the hem of my shirt.

“Take your time,” my mother urged softly.

Just as I felt the courage to try again, a sudden crash echoed from the kitchen.

“Damn it!” Max shouted.

My father shot up, rushing toward the sound. My mother followed, leaving me alone on the couch. I heard them scolding Max for breaking a glass, his voice defensive and apologetic.

I slumped back, my head falling into my hands. The moment had passed, and now the fear was creeping back in, pulling me under like quicksand.

---

I couldn’t sit still. My legs felt restless, my mind racing. I grabbed my coat and slipped out the door, the crisp evening air hitting my face.

I wandered aimlessly, my feet carrying me through familiar streets. Part of me hoped I’d run into Luke again. His presence had been calming in a way I couldn’t explain. But the streets were empty, and the silence left me alone with my thoughts.

And then they came.

The memories.

Langston’s voice. His hands. His weight pressing down on me.

It was all too loud.

I clutched my head, shaking it violently as if I could physically dislodge the thoughts. My breath hitched, my knees buckling under me. I stumbled, my heart racing, panic clawing at my throat.

“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no!”

I turned and ran, the cold air burning my lungs. My house came into view, and I burst through the door, shouting.

“Mom! Dad!”

They rushed into the room, alarmed by my sudden entrance. Max followed closely, his face etched with worry.

“It was him!” I cried, my voice cracking.

“Evelyn, what are you talking about?” my father asked, stepping closer.

“Langston,” I sobbed. “It was Langston!”

Their confusion was clear, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief.

“What about Langston?” my mother asked, her voice trembling.

Tears streamed down my face as the words finally spilled out, raw and broken.

“He raped me, Mom. He…he raped me.”

The room fell silent.

My mother’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. My father staggered back, his face pale, his jaw clenching tightly. Max stood frozen, his hands balled into fists, his entire body rigid with shock.

I collapsed onto the floor, my sobs uncontrollable