Writing style is changed up a little.

Justin

"I need your help." I barge in on Ana sprawled out with a book in her hand.

"Excuse me?" She sits up. "How did you even get in here?"

"Your back door is always unlocked, it's whatever." I move farther into the room. "Please."

She sighs, rubbing at her bandaged head. "What do you want?"

"It's about my uncle. He's a really secretive person-"

"Yeah, no shit." Ana rolls her eyes. I narrow my own.

"A few weeks ago he found me looking through stuff in the attic. He got really angry and it's been locked ever since. I need to get up there."

"What would you expect me to do?"

"The bastard's always been secretive." I take the liberty to sit down in front of her dresser. "But I don't think he's evil. What do you think?"

Ana chuckles. "You don't want to know what I think." She shoves her arms through a sweatshirt.

"Humor me."

She sighs. "He kept you cooped up in that big house for nine years. He's part of some weird, secret mob and drives a big black van with tinted windows. I mean, really, maybe he's not evil but he's a lot more than secretive."

"Yeah."

"Just imagine how much about you don't know. How much he hides from you. If you had the chance, would you want to know everything?"

I know she's not expecting an answer, so I say, "I'm not crazy."

Ana hesitates. "I never said you were."

"But I know you think I am. For still putting up with it, given everything that's happened. But-"

"He's your uncle, your blood." We're facing each other now, engaged in the longest conversation we've had in months. "I know all about shitty families. Sometimes I still wish that one day I'll pick up the phone and my mom'll be on the other side. I wouldn't hesitate to tell her how much I love her." Ana licks her lips. "It's hard to turn your back on someone who means so much to you."

I stare at her, trying to find the hint of double meaning in her words. But her eyes are indifferent. "I need to do something. Please help me."

"What do you need me to do?"

I sigh. "I'm not sure yet."

*

Richard is in the kitchen cutting up vegetables when I walk in that evening. He doesn't even turn around. "Hello, Justin."

"Hi," I say. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful." He sighs. "Quiet. I take it yours was good?"

"Yes."

"Where have you been?"

I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. "Next door."

The hands that were carefully and precisely cutting a carrot freeze and I can see the tense shoulders from here.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"You love hurting yourself, don't you? You haven't learned anything in the last year. You haven't learned who to trust. Who really cares about your well-being."

My fists clench involuntarily at my sides. "Ana hit her head and she's there alone. It has nothing to do with any of that. But don't speak to me about caring about my well-being."

"Then what have I been doing?" Richard turns around now. "Wasting my time raising a spoiled, selfish kid who screwed up his entire life over a stupid girl?"

"I didn't have to screw my life up, Uncle. You did that to my family years ago."

I feel the sting of the slap before I feel the slap itself. His palm hits my head hard enough but not enough to knock me back. The shock of the hit did that. I clutch my cheek and look up at him through emotionless eyes.

"You only lash out when you know I'm right." I say lowly. "When you fear that I know something I shouldn't and when you fear that you'll wake up one morning and find me gone. You lash out to try to scare me into staying quiet."

"You need me."

I chuckle. "Not as much as you need me." I spit. "I have myself to take care of. But you-you have no one. I see the hatred you hold for this life. You wake up every morning and hate yourself. That's why you've always treated me like a caged pet. Because without me you're all alone. Without me, you have no control."

"Then why are you still here Justin?"

I stay silent, unable to answer. I did need Richard, I knew that. But I was going to be nineteen in less than three months. I wasn't a kid anymore. I'd spent too much time needing. And I didn't want it anymore.

Why was I still here?

Richard sighs. "I think we're done here."

We eat in complete silence. I push my food around my plate and take a few bites before shoving my plate into the sink.

"The faucet in my shower isn't working." I mumble.

"Use mine." Richard doesn't look up. "I'll get someone to come and look at it tomorrow."

When I'm out of the shower, I stand in front of the big mirror in Richard's room and run a towel through my hair. His room is completely perfect. Not a single thing out of place or crooked.

There's a little dish on his wardrobe. Various colognes, hair product and picture frames. All four of my high school pictures are in the frames. But there's a dish on the dresser and it's filled with keys.

I recognize the house key and the truck key. But there's a third key that I've never seen. That has to be the key to the attic that's been locked for weeks.

There are footsteps on the stairs and I glance at the dish one more time before going across the hall and holing myself up in my room for the night.

*

Ana

"Justin, I don't really know if I feel comfortable with this." I say when Justin turns up on my porch at ten in the morning.

"Please, Ana." He replies. "I need to get up there. You should have seen the way he reacted when he found me. He locked the door for a reason. There's something he doesn't want me to see."

"Yeah but you're asking me to sneak into his room. He's going to make your life hell if he catches us."

"He can't make it any worse than he already has."

I frown. "He'll send you away, Justin. If you think your life is bad now, it can get worse. It will."

Justin sighs, rubbing at his eyes. "He did something to my mother. I can't-I can't just let this go. I've let everything go but not this time. I need to know and I think this is the only option I have left."

I chew on my lip. "Okay," I agree because as hostile as I want to be, I know how important this is to him. "Okay. What's the plan?"

Justin gets me into his house and past Richard with ease. We slip into his room and Justin heads straight for the wardrobe in the corner of the room. He slides his hands over it and sighs.

"He moved it." He whispers. "Damn it."

"What-"

"Justin?" Richard calls.

My eyes widen and Justin puts his finger to his lips. "Yeah, it's me. I need to talk to you about something. I'll be right down." He turns to me. "I'll go downstairs. Look for the key quickly. It's silver and really tiny. You'll know it when you see it. When you find it go across the hall to my room and wait for me there. Don't misplace anything."

He's gone and my heart is beating like crazy. I hear him descend the stairs and exchange words with his uncle.

I slide open the dresser drawers and shuffle through them, making sure I don't leave any trace of my search. Next I move to the bedside table. Justin and Richard are yelling at each other now and my heart aches thinking that this must be how life is in this house.

There's nothing in the tiny drawers either except a lot of pictures of Justin and his mother stacked by the year. I want so bad to take them out and study them one-by-one but I put them back and stand in the center of the room. Where else could it possibly be?

The mattress is uneven on the bed frame. I make my way over and lift it up a bit, feeling along the edge of the bed. In the corner between the bed and the wall, I feel something stab into my fingertips. I grab onto the cool metal and pull.

I let out a breath of relief. "Not so clever are you." I whisper. I clutch it in my palm and move the mattress back before heading for the door.

I don't notice the yelling decrease to silence until there are heavy footsteps on the stairs. I can't tell whose they are. I glance around, trying to locate a hiding place, but I'm too late. The doorknob turns and I freeze.

Don't you just hate cliffhangers?

Hope you liked this chapter! Richard's being an asshole as always.

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