Brandon's POV
There was only so much a person could take in one day before something inside finally cracked.
And I think mine did.
I sat at the edge of my bed after Dad left, my body completely still, staring into absolutely nothing.
Not at the wall in front of me.
Not at the polished floor beneath my feet.
Not even at the framed photographs hanging around my room—pictures of birthdays, swim competitions, family vacations... moments that suddenly felt like they belonged to strangers.
Nothing.
Because I couldn't focus on anything anymore.
My eyes were open, but it felt like my mind had shut down.
I didn't let him finish. I shut him out and asked that he left my room.
He kept saying he was sorry before finally closing the door behind him.
My head felt like somebody had grabbed a thousand voices, thrown them into a room and pressed shuffle.
Dad didn't kill the Hawkins.
Mum forged papers.
Elizabeth knew.
Mum might actually be guilty.
Might not be coming back.
