Dynasty Boys

Chapter 1

Elle

Everything had been a blur for the past few days...

My parents were dead.

Not just dead, they had been murdered. How was I supposed to keep going? This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to be here with me, but they weren't. However, all I could do was accept it. I had no choice. It was a hard pill to swallow, the hardest, most painful pill I'd ever have to take in my life. But I knew my parents. They would have wanted me to survive. To fight. To never give up, no matter what. It was what they had always taught me, for as long as I could remember.

I was moving in with my grandma, Isabella. She was a kind woman, and her 70th birthday had just passed. We weren't close, mainly because of the distance separating us, but I guessed that was about to change.

I stood in the middle of my room, my old room now, staring at the emptiness. It felt like I had never lived here, even though I had spent my entire life between these walls. Now, everything was gone. I would never come back. I wasn't even sure how I had ended up here after everything that happened to my parents. But I needed to say a final goodbye. I figured that if I couldn't do it with my parents, at least I could with the home that had been my whole world for so long.

I picked up the last of my things: a bag filled with my parents' clothes, my mom's favorite perfume, my dad's lucky watch, and other small keepsakes. I took one last look at my lilac walls, with their white stripes. I glanced at the height marks on the doorframe, tracking how I'd grown since I was four. I even saw the dent in the wall I'd made when I was ten, the day I'd thrown a tantrum because Mom wouldn't let me have another slice of cake. I swallowed, again and again, as I stood there, lost in memories. These walls had seen everything: laughter, tears, arguments, and dreams. It felt like I was saying goodbye to a part of myself.

I walked out of my room, down the stairs, and past the kitchen. I wished I had the strength to walk into the living room again, but I couldn't. It was too painful. The memory of that room, now stained with the smell of death, was more than I could bear. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my parents, lying in pools of blood. It was like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

I didn't realize I was crying until a stray tear landed on my cheek, pulling me back to the present. Since that day, I hadn't been able to stop. How was it possible to feel so broken? Why was life so unfair? How was I supposed to move on without them?

I should have known something was wrong when I saw the missed calls. Maybe if I'd come home earlier, maybe if I'd done something differently... they might still be alive.

But why did the murderer kill them? My parents were the kindest, most selfless people I knew. They had no enemies. So what was the reason?

I clenched my fists, forcing the tears away. I stepped out the front door, taking a few steps onto the driveway. I looked back one last time, not sure what I was expecting to find.

"Goodbye," I whispered, the words barely escaping my throat. I tried to blink away my tears, but they kept coming.

A new life was waiting for me, but it felt like a distant dream, one that was hard to imagine when everything I had ever known was falling apart.

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