The ride back was deafeningly quiet, save for the low rumble of Ethan's engine and the gravel crunching under his oversized tires. Ethan had practically lifted Ellie into the cab before turning to Annie with a tenderness that felt like a plea. He'd hoisted her up as if she were made of glass, his hands lingering on her waist for just a second too long, checking for a stability she didn't have.
Annie sat pressed against the door, her knees tucked to her chest. She could feel the damp, hot stickiness of the wool against her wrists. The small blade Vanessa had pulled hadn't gone deep- just enough to mock the silvery scars already there, but it was enough to make her head light.
When the truck pulled into the driveway of the dark, silent house, the void was palpable. Dylan was saving lives, Margaret was likely at the game still or a friend's house, maintaining her image, and Kyson's car was nowhere to be seen.
"I'm going to... I just need to wash my face," Annie whispered the second Ethan set her down in the foyer.
She didn't wait for an answer. She bolted up the stairs, locking her bathroom door with a trembling hand. She peeled back the sleeves. The white wool was ruined, stained a dark, rusted crimson. She hissed as she ran cold water over the shallow nicks, her heart hammering. Clean it. Hide it. Don't let them see the mess you are.
When Annie finally emerged, she had changed into a fresh, thick black hoodie- the darkest one she owned. She found Ethan and Ellie in the living room. Ethan was pacing like a caged predator, his jersey still on, the "7" on his chest mocking the fact that he should have been under the Friday night lights.
Ellie was on the sofa, her brown eyes red-rimmed. "Annie, sit down. Please."
Annie sat in the armchair, pulling her legs under her. Ethan stopped pacing and dropped to knees in front of her, forcing her to look at him. Those green eyes were turbulent, searching her face for the truth she was burying.
"The floor wasn't wet, Annie," Ethan said, his voice low and dangerously steady. "I saw the sink. It was bone dry. And that mark on your face... that was a hand. Someone put their hands on you."
"Ethan, please," Annie whispered, her blue eyes pleading. "It's over. I'm fine."
"You aren't fine!" he snapped, his short temper flashing before he caught himself and softened his tone. "Annie, look at me. You've been through enough. You lost your mom, you moved into this house with people who don't deserve you... you don't have to take this too. Just give me a name. One name."
"I can't," she said, her voice cracking. "If I tell you, you'll do something stupid. You'll lose a possible scholarship. You'll get arrested. I won't be the reason your life breaks, too."
Ethan's jaw tightened so hard it looked like stone. "My life doesn't matter if I'm standing by watching you bleed out mentally. Ellie, tell me. You saw who was in there."
Ellie looked at Annie, her loyalty warring with her protective instinct. She saw the way Annie was clutching her sleeves- a familiar, frantic gesture. She remembered the promise in the bathroom.
"I promised her, Ethan," Ellie said, her voice trembling but firm. "I can't. But you're right- it wasn't a fall."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Annie said, her sweetness replaced by a desperate, quiet strength. "If you guys are staying... can we just... can we just be? I just want to feel safe for five minutes."
Ethan let out a jagged breath, leaning his forehead against Annie's knees. He didn't know about the stinging cuts under the black fabric, or the way her ribs throbbed with every breath. He just knew that for all his strength on the field, he was powerless against the ghosts haunting the girl in front of him.
"Fine," Ethan muttered into the fabric of her sweatpants. "We won't talk. But I'm not leaving. I'm sleeping on this floor. And tomorrow, I'm not letting you out of my sight."
The silence in the living room was suffocating, thick with Ethan's vibrating fury and Annie's quiet, trembling pleas. Ethan looked like he was ready to punch a hole through the wall just to vent the adrenaline, his green eyes fixed on the red mark blooming on Annie's cheek.
Ellie, sensing that they were seconds away from Ethan storming out to find Vanessa or Kyson- which would only end in a disaster for everyone, stepped between them. She reached out and grabbed Ethan's arm, her brown eyes sharp and commanding.
"Stop," Ellie said, her voice a firm anchor. "Ethan, look at her. She doesn't need a hero right now. She needs to breathe. If you go out there looking for blood, you're just leaving her alone in this house with her thoughts. Is that what you want?"
Ethan's chest heaved, his jaw working as he stared at Ellie, then back at Annie, who looked so small in her oversized black hoodie. The fire in his eyes flickered, replaced by a devastating sort of helplessness. He exhaled a long, jagged breath and slumped his shoulders. "No. No, it's not."
"Good," Ellie nodded, turning to Annie with a softened expression. She knew Annie was fading, retreating into that quiet place she went when things got too heavy.
"We aren't talking about floors or fights anymore. New plan. We're going upstairs, and we are going to build the most ridiculous, structurally unsound blanket fort this town has ever seen."
A tiny, flickering smile touched Annie's lips- the first sign of life they'd seen in an hour. "In my room?"
"In your room," Ellie confirmed, already heading toward the linen closet. "I want every duvet, every silk pillow, and that weird fuzzy throw Dylan got you. We're going to watch movies until our eyes bleed, and if Margaret or Kyson so much as breathes near the door, Ethan is authorized to growl at them. Right, Ethan?"
Ethan managed a grim, protective shadow of a smirk. He reached out, gently taking Annie's hand- noticing how she winced but not pushing it, and squeezed her fingers. "I can do that. I'm a very good growler."
"Come on," Ellie urged, ushering them toward the stairs. "Movie night starts now. No reality allowed."