7 hours ago…
Elana leaned against the car door, her voice calm but firm.
Elana: You can crash at my apartment.
Stacy's eyes widened. She almost stumbled over her words.
Stacy: No… no, we've caused you enough trouble already. You saved us from those gang members, then even paid for our fuel. We can't keep taking advantage of you.
But Dean's reaction was completely different. He sat up straighter, eyes fixed on Elana.
Dean: If that's okay with you, then we wouldn't mind spending the night.
Both Stacy and Bryan snapped their heads toward him.
Bryan: You can't be serious, Dean! What's gotten into you?
Dean shrugged, his tone measured.
Dean: We'll at least have a place to sleep and not...
He cut himself off, suddenly aware of what he was about to admit.
Stacy: At least let's talk it through first.
Elana raised her hand before things could spiral.
Elana: Come on, don't fight about it. There's a hotel nearby if you're uncomfortable.
Stacy: Give us a minute, please.
The three siblings moved a little away from Elana. Bryan immediately lashed out at Dean, his voice sharp and angry.
Bryan: What are you thinking?! Did you forget what she told us? She killed her previous leader! We can't just walk into her place and act like it's safe!
Stacy: Bryan, calm down. If Elana meant us harm, she wouldn't have helped us. She wouldn't have paid for fuel, and she definitely wouldn't have confessed something like killing someone. People who hide things… they don't talk like that.
Dean stayed quiet for a moment before letting out the truth behind his decision.
Dean: I don't trust her. Not fully. Yes, she helped us, yes, she paid for our fuel but that's exactly why I'm suspicious. Nobody does all that for free. Her story doesn't add up… and I want to know why. I agreed to stay the night so I can find out who she really is and what her motives are.
Stacy frowned, clearly against his reasoning.
Stacy: That's reckless, Dean. And for the record, I'm the oldest here. I make the decisions for us.
Dean's voice rose, cutting her off.
Dean: You don't have to make all the decisions alone! You don't have to carry everything on your own shoulders. Just for tonight, let's stay. At least we'll have a roof over our heads.
Stacy exhaled heavily, torn but finally giving in.
Stacy: …Fine. But don't ask her about her past, and don't go through her stuff. Promise me that.
Bryan shook his head, still against it, but his voice carried less weight now.
Bryan: I think it's a mistake. But clearly no one cares what I think.
The siblings returned to Elana. Dean spoke for them all.
Dean: We've decided… we'll stay the night at your place.
Elana's lips curved into a small smile, as if she'd been expecting that answer all along.
Present time – 6:00 PM, Elana's House
The outside of Elana's house looked worn and weathered, cracked walls, faded paint, the kind of place most people would walk past without a second thought. But the moment the siblings stepped inside, it was like entering another world. The living room was neat, warm, and surprisingly modern compared to the rough exterior.
Stacy came out of the bathroom first, her hair still damp, steam drifting around her. Her eyes were wide with wonder.
Stacy: You guys… that shower oh my God. I didn't even realize how much I missed feeling clean.
Back in the mountains, we never had anything close to that.
Dean and Bryan exchanged surprised looks. When they each took their turn, they came back just as stunned, towels hanging around their necks. For the first time after the incident, the tension between them had lifted. They were laughing, sharing the odd comfort of something normal.
As the three of them sat down in the room they got, Stacy suddenly remembered.
Stacy: Wait… our phones. They're low.
She went to the living room where Elana sat.
Stacy: Do you maybe have a charger we can use?
Elana, lounging casually on the couch, gave a small nod.
Elana: Sure. Go to my room, you'll find it by the desk.
Stacy smiled, picking up all three phones before heading toward the hallway. The moment she left the room Bryan turned to Dean, his expression serious.
Bryan: Alright. What's wrong with you? You admitted you don't even trust her, so why agree to
stay here?
Dean lets out a soft sigh, lowering his voice so no one overhears.
Dean (sighs softly): Last night I…
He paused, his jaw tightening.
Dean: I heard Stacy crying last night. She was trying so hard to figure out how we'd survive. I
couldn't just sit there listening. This place, Elana's help… I saw it as an opportunity to put her at
ease, even if only for a night.
Bryan's anger dimmed. His shoulders sank as he processed his brother's words.
Bryan: …She was crying? She never tells us when she feels like that.
Dean: Exactly. She carries too much on her own. If staying here gives her even a moment to breathe, then it's worth it.
Bryan let out a long sigh, his stubborn edge softening.
Bryan: Fine. But don't think this means I trust Elana. Not for a second.
Dean smirked faintly.
Dean: Neither do I.
At that moment, Stacy returned to their room, smiling faintly as she set the charging phones down on the table. The three siblings sat together, the weight of survival slightly lighter than it had been the night before.
Elana watched them quietly from across the hallway, her expression unreadable.
The scent of warm food drifted through the small house. Elana's voice called out from the living room, gentle but steady.
Elana (softly smiling): Dinner's ready. Come on, you three.
The siblings, still in their fresh clothes after showering, rose from the bed and started toward
the dining table in the living room. Elana was casually glancing at the television, the low hum
of the news reporter filling the air. But just as they were about to sit down, the screen flickered to breaking coverage.
The words felt like a knife.
News Anchor: Yesterday a tragic fire has engulfed a small residence in the mountains. Authorities have ruled it an accidental fire… Two victims identified as Mikey and Cristina.
Pictures of Mikey and Cristina flashed across the screen, their faces alive and smiling in photographs that now felt like ghosts.
Dean froze mid-step, his whole-body stiff. Bryan's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. Then, without a word, tears began sliding down both of their faces. Dean's lips trembled as if he wanted to shout, but no sound came out.
Stacy clenched her fists tightly at her sides. Her face remained hard, her jaw set, but her eyes shone with the effort of holding back her own tears.
Elana glanced at them, her expression softening with immediate understanding. Dean's voice cracked as he whispered, almost to himself.
Dean (hoarse, breaking): No… not them. Please, not them.
Stacy quickly stepped in, her voice low but firm as she turned to Elana.
Stacy: Could you… please turn it off?
Elana didn't hesitate. With a sympathetic nod, she reached for the remote and clicked the television into silence.
Dean quickly turned away, shoulders shaking as he made his way back toward the room they'd been given. His footsteps were heavy, uneven. Stacy followed close behind, her expression torn with worry.
Inside the room, Dean sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face into his hands. His body shook with silent sobs.
Stacy (kneeling beside him, whispering): It's okay… let it out. I'm here.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him steady until the worst of the storm passed.
Meanwhile, back at the table, Bryan fell on his knees, staring blankly at the floor. The silence
between him and Elana was suffocating.
Elana spoke softly, her tone gentle, almost hesitant.
Elana: …So… they were your parents.
Bryan swallowed hard, his throat tight, and gave a small nod. His lips quivered as he tried to hold composure.
Elana (gently): I'm so sorry.
Bryan's voice cracked, his defenses finally slipping.
Bryan: Please… don't mention it when Dean's around. He's hurting more than anyone… He won't survive hearing it over and over.
Elana's eyes softened. She nodded once, firmly.
Elana: I promise.
Something in Bryan broke. He leaned forward, his guard completely down, and before he knew it, he was in Elana's arms. His sobs muffled against her shoulder as she held him, stroking his back slowly, saying nothing, just letting him collapse.
Back in the room, Dean's crying slowly quieted, his breaths ragged but steadier now.
Stacy (softly, brushing his hair back): You're not alone, Dean. Remember that.
He nodded weakly, not meeting her eyes. Stacy gave his hand a squeeze before standing.
Stacy (whispering): I'll give you some time.
As she stepped out into the hallway, her eyes widened at the sight in the living room, Bryan clinging to Elana, his face hidden in her shoulder. Stacy froze, a crack forming in her carefully held composure. She bit her lip hard, trying to hold it in, but the sight was too much.
She rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Finally, she let go. She slid down against the wall, covering her face with both hands as sobs tore through her chest. The tough act she had worn for her brothers shattered in the solitude of the bathroom tiles.
Later, as the house quieted, Elana walked down the hall toward her own room. She paused when she heard faint sobbing behind the bathroom door. Her hand hovered on the wall for a moment, listening, her expression unreadable. After a few seconds, she exhaled softly and moved on, letting Stacy grieve alone.
The house fell into silence, heavy with loss.
The bathroom door creaked open. Stacy stepped out, her eyes still red and puffy from crying. She took a slow breath, trying to steady herself, then walked quietly down the hallway.
In the living room, Bryan was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, his arms loosely folded across his chest. The plate of untouched food still sat on the table, now cooling. Stacy walked over and gently shook his shoulder.
Stacy (softly): Bryan… wake up.
Bryan stirred, blinking groggily before sitting up. His eyes were heavy, still swollen from tears earlier.
Bryan (quietly): What is it?
Stacy (gentle, almost motherly): You need to eat something. Come on, don't skip it.
Bryan rubbed his face, glancing at the table, then looked back at her.
Bryan: Did Dean eat anything?
Stacy hesitated, her eyes shifting slightly before answering.
Stacy: No… he hasn't. Let's take him a plate in a minute.
They walked together toward the bedroom. Pushing the door open quietly, they found Dean lying on the bed, already asleep. His hand rested against his face, his expression tense even in rest, as though his grief had followed him into his dreams.
Bryan stepped forward, leaning down.
Bryan (soft, almost pleading): Dean… hey, wake up. You should eat…
But Stacy put a hand on Bryan's arm, shaking her head firmly.
Stacy (whispering): No. Let him rest. He needs it more than anything right now.
Bryan's lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded, giving in.
The two of them returned quietly to the table. They sat across from each other, the only sound the faint clink of their spoons against the plates. Neither spoke much, words felt too heavy, too hollow. They ate in silence, side by side, taking what little comfort they could from the warm food.
When they were finished, Stacy cleared the dishes, then returned to Bryan.
Stacy (softly, tired): Come on. Let's get some sleep.
Together, they made their way back to their room, the house settling into stillness. Dean slept deeply, Bryan crawled under his blanket, and Stacy lay awake for a moment, staring at the ceiling before finally closing her eyes.
The night carried their grief, but for now, exhaustion held them.
The house grew quiet, the weight of the evening pressing down on everyone inside. Dean remained asleep, his face turned toward the wall, lost in uneasy dreams. Bryan breathed softly beside him, his exhaustion finally pulling him into rest. Stacy lay still, her hands folded against her chest, her eyes open for a long while before they too drifted shut.
Dean hadn't gotten the chance to go through Elana's things or ask her the questions burning in his mind, the news had caught him off guard, breaking him in ways he didn't expect.
Elana, meanwhile, stood silently by her own window, arms crossed, her face lit by the dim glow of the city. She felt sorry for the three siblings, their pain raw and unhidden. In that moment, she made a quiet decision: she would look after them, guide them, and teach them how to survive in the cities.
On the table, the siblings' phones sat plugged in, their batteries now fully charged. But the screens remained dark, silent. Unseen, unread messages waited for them. Hidden truths that lingered only moments away, ready to shatter what little peace they had left.
To Be Continued…