The front door shut with a soft, final click.

I stood in the hallway and listened to the car pull away until the sound completely disappeared. Mom and David were gone. Three and a half weeks. No parents. No one else in the house. Just me and Ethan.

He was already in the kitchen when I walked in. Tall, dark hair still damp, black t-shirt fitting close across his chest and shoulders. He glanced at me over the rim of his water glass. The look lasted a second longer than it needed to before he turned his attention back to the counter.

“You alright?” he asked. His voice was low....