The next day, everyone was surprised when Andrew stopped by. Reed looked at him; distrust in his eyes. Andrew stood there awkwardly, his hands behind his back and staring at the ground.

"No offense, but..." Nikolai began.

"Why're you here?" Reed finished.

"Uh, I wanted to invite you guys to dinner. I thought it was the least my family and I could do," Andrew replied. Everyone was silent. I had to be the one to answer.

"Sure. Thanks," I said. He smiled. Reed looked at me like I was crazy. I ignored him.

"Great," Andrew beamed.

He left a little while later, after meaningless conversation; mostly between me and him. Reed refused to speak to him. and I think Nikolai and Carmine were almost too stunned to speak. Andrew gave us his address, and said to come over at 5 o'clock.

Four thirty came, and I thought we'd end up not going at all. Reed said he did not want to go. And he meant it.

"They're just trying to be nice!" Nikolai said.

"I don't care! It's because of their fucking son I spent over three months in jail!" he countered. For twenty minutes, it seemed like we weren't getting anywhere with this argument. Then, a miracle happened and Reed gave up. We got to the Collins' house fifteen minutes late.

Andrew introduced us to his dad, mom, Marcus, Leo (who now has a fractured ankle thanks to me), and Belinda, Dalton's girlfriend.

"I'm... I'm sorry about Dalton. I know it must be hard for you," I said. They all smiled weakly.

"Thank you. That means a lot," his mother said. She was a tiny little woman, so opposite to what I remember Dalton to be. We had chicken for dinner, along with mashed potatoes and corn. Mrs. Collins even made cake for dessert. It's one of the biggest meals I'd ever had.

"I'll do the dishes," Belinda said quietly while everyone made their way to the living room for TV. I studied Belinda, so fragile and soft. I couldn't but help to pity her.

"I'll help you," I told her. She furrowed her eyebrows at me, surprised, but didn't object. We began taking the dishes that were piled high in the sink, and on the table, and washed them one by one. Belinda didn't seem like she liked to do the washing, so I washed them while she handed them to me and then dried them and put them in their place in the cabinet.

"How are you doing?" I asked. "I mean, how are you... holding up?" I saw her shrug out of the corner of my eye.

"Ok, I guess," she shrugged. She sounded kind of... nonchalant. I guess that was her way of pushing it all away.

"He... He was a nice guy," I said. Who knows. He could've been.

"Uh-huh," she said. She seemed kind of annoyed. I decided to drop the subject.

"You mind if we switch?" I asked, holding out the soaking towel. She shook her head and took it from my hand.

"I was surprised actually, when you figured out that Dalton killed himself. I'd never thought of that," she said. She spoke with a sort of confidence in her voice now. "How'd you possibly come up with that?" she asked. I furrowed my eyebrows in her sudden interest in the subject.

"Because... Andrew said he seemed kind of jumpy before he... you know. And I knew it was impossible for Reed to have killed him; Dalton had stolen his knife beforehand." Belinda nodded, interested. We did the dishes in silence for a couple minutes, when Belinda hissed. I looked up. She had her hand strained in front of her, and she wrapped a towel around it.

"Are you ok?" I asked. I walked over to help her. I removed the towel from her hand.

"I'm fine," she protested, but it was too late. On her hand, was a long scar. It was puckered, maybe a few months old. It was still barely healed though. It was bleeding a little bit, from the scar tissue begin removed. It must've hurt from the soap entering the wound. It resembled something I'd seen before.

A knife cut.

"What... How'd you get this?" I whispered. I swear, even though I wasn't looking at her face, I saw her smile. My heart thudded, as I put two and two together. "Did you... Did you kill him?" She laughed.

"Very good! I was wondering if anyone would really figure it out," she said in an angelic voice. My jaw dropped; my mouth was dry. I turned to run, but she grabbed a knife from the sink, and twisted me around until my back was up against her, the knife to my throat. The blade pressed against it, and I almost choked. "You're not going to tell anyone. If you do, I'll be sure to kill you before they find me," she whispered in my ear. My breaths came out in short breaths, trying not to move too much.

"Ok, ok, I won't," I said, tears running down my cheeks now. I wanted so badly to scream. I heard Belinda laugh.

"He was such an ass," she said quietly. "I was doing a bunch of girls a favor. If I broke up with him, he'd go to someone else. You see, I was just saving other girl's the let down, the heartbreak." I felt like I was going to pass out. Then, thank God, Reed came in. His eyes seemed like they were going to fall out of his head.

"Don't move," Belinda sneered. Reed stood there frozen, his eyes locked on the knife pressed to my neck. Somehow, everyone else in the other room knew something was wrong. They came in, to find the same thing Reed had stumbled upon.

"Belinda, what are you doing?" Andrew asked cautiously. Belinda laughed.

"Go ahead," she said to me. She pressed the blade even closer on my neck, and I could feel my skin was close to breaking. "Tell them."

"She killed Dalton," I managed to choke out. Everyone stood there shocked, while Belinda was sure to slice my head off.

"Belinda, Dear, please let Harley go," Mrs. Collins pleaded. I wish it was that easy.

"Dude, let 'er go!" Leo shouted. Before Belinda could respond, Andrew pulled a gun out from his pocket, similar to the one I owned. Silly me, I'd left mine at home tonight. I was so used to not needing one. He shot towards the ground, just missing my leg. I screamed, regretting it as the little ridges in the knife dug deeper. Apparently Andrew hit Belinda, because her scream was filled with pain. She fell down, the knife finally slicing my neck as she went down. I don't know how deep it was, but I was out when I hit the kitchen tile.

***

I woke up, in the hospital. My neck felt like it was on fire. I reached up to my neck, but couldn't feel anything because it was wrapped in gauze.

"Hey look, she's up," Carmine observed. I yawned, wincing as my neck protested to the sudden rush of air. I could barely handle breathing normally. Carmine, Reed, and Nikolai were seated in chairs on the side of the room, looking very tired. Reed and Nikolai looked up at Carmine's announcement.

"How you feeling?" Nikolai asked.

"My throat is killing me," I managed to whisper. Even in a whisper my voice was raspy.

"I'll bet," Reed said. "She got you real good. You needed more than fifteen stitches. You almost didn't make it."

"But don't worry," Carmine said. "The doctor said you can leave in a couple hours. Then you'll be back home." My lip trembled, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I can't," I said. My throat blazed up, and I tried to keep the sobs back.

"What? Why? Do you still hurt?" Nikolai asked. Well, yes, but that's not why.

"I can't go back," I wheezed. "I can't go back home."

"What do you mean?" Reed questioned. I covered my face with my hands, ashamed to have my brothers see me cry. They weren't supposed to see me like this.

"I can't do this anymore! I'm sick of this place! I can't deal with all this anymore!" I cried.

"Harley, you're just reacting badly to the pain medication. Just go to sleep," Nikolai instructed.

"No! I'm done with all this!" I cried. He patted my hand, and pushed my shoulder back so I would lay back down.

"Shhh... Go to sleep..." he said softly. I closed my eyes, and fell asleep to his soothing words.

But I was not going back.