I feel sick.

Like I actually might projectile vomit right this second.

Of course, this possibility crossed my mind. There's things about Elliot I don't know. Things he keeps hidden. But that doesn't mean I don't trust him.

"Text them back," I instruct, still breathless from our kiss. "Now."

He doesn't move.

"Elliot!"

"I can't," he replies, settling his gaze elsewhere.

"I'll do it then," I warn, snatching his phone away.

"No, Lena! You can't!" he begs, taking it back. "Please!"

"Why can't you?" I ask, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

I hate that he can't bring himself to look at me. "Some secrets aren't ours to tell."

"Meaning?"

I grow increasingly frustrated. If he doesn't ask for truth, the alternative is death and I simply wont let that happen. Not ever.

"My Dad," he begins, finally locking eyes with me.

I offer him a nod, wanting him to know he has my full attention.

"The state wont officially declare him dead until he's been missing for seven years but I know he's gone."

"How do you know?" I question.

He rests his forehead to mine, seemingly ready to offload. "Because I buried him."

I almost laugh, utterly shaken by his revelation. His brazen attitude.

"In the woods."

"Did you kill him?" I ask, suddenly looking to his phone.

Call it gut feeling. Intuition. Whatever. I know Elliot isn't evil and I'm not scared to be alone with him. Even now, I want to help him. I want to show him that everything is going to be alright.

"No," he admits, trembling. "Celia did."

Fuck!

"She was ten."

I swallow my shock and cradle his head, hating the hesitation in his eyes. And the pain each one holds.

"It was an accident. He came home one night—drunk like always."

For both our sake's, I refuse to cry and instead, clutch onto what little sanity I have left.

"He went straight to Celia's bedroom."

"Did he hit her?" I enquire.

He shakes his head and clenches his fists, seething. Heartbroken.

"Elliot?"

"No. He—touched her."

What the fuck?

"Told her to take her pyjamas off."

My stomach twists and churns, threatening a revolt.

"She told him she didn't want to. That's when he turned forceful. Violent."

I say nothing, allowing him this time to explain. To share.

"She grabbed the nearest thing she could and hit him over the head. It wasn't enough to kill him but he drunkingly stumbled back and fell over. Hit his head."

I squeeze his hands, showing him my understanding. My support.

"She woke me up. Told me everything," he explains. "I couldn't go to the cops, Lena. They didn't do anything for us the first time around. I remember thinking why would now be any different?" He takes a moment, frantically searching his surroundings. "So, I told her to put her pyjamas in a carrier bag and have a bath. I took care of the rest."

"Didn't anyone help you?" I ask. "No one at all?"

"I had no one."

I close my eyes and release a breath, making my mind up with regards to next steps.

"You're not alone now," I ensure, taking his face in my hands. "D'ya understand?"

He nods, half way to sobbing. "Do you really mean that?"

"I'm your girlfriend, aren't I? And while that might not mean much to some people, it means a lot to me. You're a good person, Elliot."

"A good person who did a bad thing."

I shrug. "Had you not done what you did, Celia would be in jail. Burying him in the woods wasn't a bad thing."

How her own Dad could turn on her in such a way in unfathomable. It's incomprehensible. What I thought I knew about their past runs much deeper. Cuts much deeper. Elliot and Celia aren't just victims of neglect. What they suffered is so much worse and quite frankly, I'm glad the bastard is dead. Had he not been, I'd be contemplating killing the fucker myself.

"I couldn't protect her then but I can now, Lena. I will take this secret to the grave."

I nod, not bothering to fight him on this.

"We don't have long."

"For what?" he asks.

"To figure this shit out once and for all," I state, snapping into action. "Who else knows other than you and Celia?"

He takes a moment to think, stricken not two seconds later.

"Our Mom."

"She knows?" I question, a little shocked.

"Hmm. About a week after, Celia broke down and told her. She didn't turn us in but she couldn't stay. That night, she left us with Aunt Sarah."

"Does she know? Sarah?"

He shakes his head, almost amused. "God no!"

I search my brain for a link. A connection. Anything that might point us in the right direction. Then—like a tonne of bricks—it hits me.

"Francesca."

"Huh?"

"She's friends with Celia. Could she have told her?"

His phone suddenly blares to life, halting his reply. "I can ask her now."

He presses accept and puts her on speaker.

"Elliot, I'm freaking out! Where are you?"

"I'm at school," he replies, voice soft. "I'm okay. I'm gonna be okay."

"How can you say that?" she cries. "They know. About Dad. Everything."

Elliot looks to me, utterly helpless. I gesture to the phone, asking for permission. For the opportunity to speak.

He nods.

"Celia?"

I hear her gasp.

"It's Helena. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or your brother. Alright?"

"D-did he tell you?" she asks.

Another nod from Elliot confirms that he wants us to be honest. Open.

"Yeah. He told me."

Silence.

"He told me you were ten, scared and acted in self defence."

A noise similar to a cry sounds from the other end of the phone.

"He also told me that he'll take this secret to the grave." I say, taking hold of his hand. "As will I."

He squeezes, smiling his appreciation.

"Thanks," she sobs.

"Now, I need to know who else knows. Did you ever tell Francesca?"

"Frankie?" she asks. "No, why?"

Elliot and I share a glance.

"Anyone else then?"

"No one. After Mom, I never told a soul."

This doesn't make sense. Every secret so far has been one of epic proportions. Whoever is doing this either has psychic abilities or one helluva reliable source.

"Okay," I reply. "Stay where you are. Elliot and I are coming home. Is Sarah in?"

"No, she's out. I'm home alone."

Elliot freaks out, practically dragging me out of the classroom door.

"Hang tight. We're on our way!"

Just as she hangs up; Shaun, Jasmine and Chloe come into view.

"Helena!" Shaun's voice is a combination of concern and determination. "Wait up!"

We immediately stop, allowing them the chance to catch up.

"Let us help," he begs, glancing to Elliot. "Please."

I leave it up to Elliot to decide, figuring he deserves the chance to choose whether or not he wants Shaun on side. After all, it's him he betrayed. Not me.

"I'd appreciate that," he replies, sticking his hand out in offering. "Friends?"

Shaun ignores it and goes straight in for a hug. "Brothers."

I choke back a sob, both overjoyed and worried. Dread consumes me as thoughts of failure plague me.

What if we don't succeed?

What if I can't protect Elliot?

"Don't even go there," whispers Chloe, sensing my inner turmoil. "He's not going to die."

I quickly wipe at my eyes and plaster on a fake smile. "You're right. I don't have time to cry. There's work to be done."

Jasmine steps in. "I assume asking for truth has been discussed?"

"Not happening," I reply, leaving it at that.

They each nod, seemingly understanding.

"I've called my Dad," informs Jasmine. "He's meeting us at yours. Jason is on his way too."

Elliot and I nod.

"We need to collect Celia on our way," I insist, taking hold of Elliot's outstretched hand.

He squeezes.

"No problem," replies Shaun, flashing us Mom's car keys. "Tell her to pack an overnight bag."

Chloe smiles. "You too, Elliot. We're not letting either of you out of our sight until the killer is caught."

I'm so thankful for their consideration and quick thinking. The future beyond five minutes from now has yet to even enter my mind. I'm too focused on the here and now. The hows and whys. And how we're rapidly running out of time. Now, more than ever, we must catch the killer and bring them to justice.

The alternative doesn't bear thinking about.

"I'm sorry I ruined prom," whispers Elliot as we enter the parking lot.

I nudge his side. "I'm not gonna lie, your impending death has kinda put a downer on things."

He laughs and pulls on my hand, putting a bit of distance between us and the others. "For real. You look really beautiful tonight, Lena."

My heartbeat just about triples in speed, as does my breathing.

"Thank you for not letting me do this alone."

And right there—in the darkness of Lincoln High's parking lot, my feelings for him cement themselves. This thing between us is no longer just a crush. No. I can see myself falling for Elliot. Really falling. And whilst terrifying, it's also exciting. Exhilarating.

Elliot may have started off in life alone. May feel abandoned from time to time. But he's anything but. Celia too.

They're worthy.

They're loved.

They're family.

****

My heart!!

What do y'all think about Elliot's confession?

What do you think'll happen next?