Don't Tell (Don't 1)

By the time I reached the top of the third floor I had already forgotten everything that happened at work today.

I saw the door. It came rushing back. The way my hands splayed against the planes. How Vaughn had held me with his body. I stared at it for a moment, not quite ready to put my keys in the lock.

That door reminded me I had gone somewhere I had never thought possible. I never would have explored that part of myself without Vaughn.

It drove me crazy that I didn’t know where he was or when he’d be back.

I turned the key in the door and walked inside.

The apartment was dark. I turned on a few lights before pouring a glass of wine. I knew it was too cold to sit on the rooftop. Maybe with a heater and a blanket, but I wasn’t feeling adventurous. Instead I felt tired and cranky. I wanted wine and the couch. No, what I really wanted was Vaughn.

I pulled a blanket over my legs, letting my body sink into the cushions.

The door barged open and Greer wrestled a file box through the apartment.

“Do you need help?”

She dropped everything in front of her room.

“No. It would be nice if I didn’t have to lug this shit back and forth to work.”

It looked like the same stacks she had yesterday.

“What’s in those things?” I sat forward with my wine. “And why isn’t it on an external drive? Wouldn’t that be easier to carry?”

She groaned. “Because, truth be told, and a security secret, there are some people who believe our files are more secure this way. We can’t be hacked. And who would think we’d bother with paper copies of contracts?”

I swallowed the wine. “Strange, but good point.”

“Maybe if we just had an elevator,” she whined.

“I’ve said that every day I’ve lived here.” I smiled. “Do you still want to watch a movie, or do the boxes mean you have work to do?”

She frowned. “So much work. But maybe I’ll be finished soon.”

I kicked my feet to the floor. She could have the living room to work. “It’s ok. I’m too tired to keep my eyes open. I would fall asleep no matter what movie we watched. I think I’m going straight to bed.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yes. Positive.” I traipsed to my room. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

19

I fumbled for the phone in the dark. I didn’t know what time it was, only that I had been sleeping long enough to feel a heavy fog engulf me. I hit my hand on the lamp. A sharp pain shot across my wrist.

“Shit,” I grumbled before landing on the phone.

The screen looked blurry. It was my father. I sat up. “Dad, what’s wrong?” It had to be horrible for him to call me.

“Emily, it’s your brother.”

I couldn’t breathe. The dread tore through me. An icy chill coated my skin. Good news never came in the middle of the night. This was no different. I could feel the instant hollowness engulf me and fill my room. It permeated the darkness.

“Dad, tell me,” I pleaded.

“It’s—one of his friends called. He’s not doing well.”