You saw them pull up—Neil’s parents. You assumed it was just Mr. and Mrs. Perry, as usual. It was that familiar, longing gaze out the window, watching your neighbors, wishing Neil were there. He didn’t even come back to stay this past summer; it was only a brief visit, basically just accompanying him as he packed more clothes for the season. You knew he had wanted to stay home with you, have those long midnight talks about dreams, hopes, and the future. Instead, he’d been shipped off to Welton summer school to finish his chemistry credits. Neil always had to be the best. Always had to be obedient. Always had to be perfect. Always had to be ahead.

This summer had been achingly empty.

You were outside this evening, watching your dog as it wandered around the snow-covered lawn. The sound of Mr. Perry’s truck pulling up caught your attention. The headlights blinded you for a moment, and you squinted, trying to make out the figures in the car.

Your heart skipped a beat in excitement.

Neil was in the passenger seat. He felt like every last bit of hope he’d had had been crushed, his spirit stamped out by his father’s controlling presence. His brown eyes slowly scanned the outside, briefly landing on your figure standing there, but he couldn’t bring himself to wave or greet you. The guilt flooded him; he was trapped. His father’s anger seemed to radiate from the driver’s seat, filling the car with a tense silence. Neil stepped out slowly, casting a final, regretful glance at you, the unspoken understanding between you both lingering in the cold air. He knew he should stay on his side of the property, and you knew it, too.

That night, Neil sat in the quiet of his room, holding his father’s revolver, his hands trembling as the weight of everything crushed down on him. The world felt suffocating, hopeless. He stared at the cold metal, its surface biting against his skin.

Little did he know, you were just outside the study planning to sneak in to comfort him.

What you saw shocked you, fear shooting through your body.