Olivia stood naked in front of the mirror. She noticed bruises on her inner thighs. Her body jolted as her mind kicked out a random memory of the night before. Fuck! Hold her down, will you? I can’t— She couldn’t handle it, her whole body shaking so much that she dropped to the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth.

She had no idea how long she sat there for, mind blanking time and pain, but eventually she got up and pulled her clothes on, walking back to her bedroom.

Her dad must have heard the shower running because he was hovering in the hallway near the bathroom door waiting for her. ‘Olivia, are you all right?’ A memory. Hadn’t he already asked her that?

‘Fine,’ she said, not wanting to talk at all.

‘Will you be OK to go to school tomorrow? You seem kinda… sick or something.’ He was trying, but she couldn’t even hold a simple conversation. Her mind drifted away; from what, she was still unsure.

‘I just need… I need…’ Olivia couldn’t finish her sentence. She slipped under the comforter with jerky movements, knowing she should feel something, but she was completely numb. Something had happened.

You wanna go?

Olivia recoiled – from what she didn’t know – and buried herself deeper, covering her head. She needed to block out the noise, the terror she was feeling welling up inside of her.

She heard her dad close the door and mercifully, she fell asleep.

Wren felt rather than heard someone in his room, standing by his bed. He could smell burning toast, the scent of coffee wafting down the hallway. The smell made his stomach turn. Quickly he threw back the comforter and launched himself down the hall to the bathroom. He just made it before landing on his knees and violently throwing up.

‘Wren?’ The bedroom visitor had followed him down the hall. He heard the small voice say in the doorway. ‘Mom said it’s breakfast time. She has to go to work.’ When no reply was forthcoming, Ty tried again. ‘You sick or something, Wren?’

Wren wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood, feeling groggy and unfocused. He rinsed his mouth, still smelling the toast and coffee, still tasting the vomit. ‘I’m fine. Coming now, just give me a minute.’ He turned to his little brother and pushed him in the butt with his foot. Ty giggled and ran off down the hallway.

Wren looked at his reflection: discolored and swollen eye, cut lip, torn T-shirt. He knew he’d bruised his ribs, they were tender to touch, as was his stomach – probably why he’d thrown up. No, he knew why. Justin.