You sit beside Erik for the first time since his parents were murdered. You used to tutor him, but that ended the moment the news broke.

Then, a week ago, Erik reached out, asking for help with his college letter. You agreed, but now that you're here, in the same house where it all happened, sitting at the dinner table beside him, it's clear he doesn't need your help with school. He needs something else-someone to talk to.

"I feel so guilty all the time," Erik mutters, his voice low.

You glance up, furrowing your brow, offering a look that says, I'm here for you.

Then his next words drop like a stone, shattering the fragile silence.

"We did it."

Your breath catches.

"Lyle and I killed them."

Before you can react, a voice booms from across the room-Lyle.

"What the fuck, Erik?!"

In an instant, you're no longer facing Erik. Lyle's hand clamps down on the back of your chair, spinning it sharply until you're face-to-face with him. He leans in close, his eyes wild, and his grip firm.

"One word about this," he growls, his breath hot on your face, "and I swear to fucking God—"