Spencer didn’t know who else he could confide in, who else he could trust wholeheartedly with the more vulnerable feelings and worries he had. He had come to Jennifer’s house for weeks crying, deeply grieving the death of Emily. And, in the end, he had his vulnerability thrown right back in his face when Emily suddenly appeared out of nowhere, alive and well. He was proved time and time again why he shouldn’t open up.

Deep down, Spencer understood very well the circumstances of the situation. He knew that Emily had to fake her death for her own safety, and that Jennifer and Aaron being the only two aware of the truth was just an unfortunate consequence. If Spencer were to be mad at anyone, he should be mad at Aaron for making such a decision for the entire team without their say, Aaron had said so himself claiming responsibility. And yet, Spencer’s emotions of shame, embarrassment, and betrayal were mostly directed at Jennifer and Emily.

Spencer had thought about it, genuinely, when it got bad—taking dilaudid again just to ease the painful memories of a beloved friend brutally murdered. His proud years of sobriety had almost drained away, all over a death that turned out to be completely fake in the end.

Now, here he was, sitting on a couch that didn’t belong to him with his hands wringing together tightly, almost painfully. He wondered if it was a mistake, to confide in another person after what had just happened. He hoped another betrayal wouldn’t be likely to happened right after one. Though, there was a slight chance, and it made him nervous.

“I’m sorry for coming by so late,” Spencer murmured, rubbing his tired eyes. His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to fall sleep.

“And so suddenly too… I just… I don’t know.”