Nicholas

Eliana's palm on my hand was wet; she was already sweating as we went up Sander's porch stairs. It was a pretty decent home with a white picket fence in a pretty cool neighbourhood. After ringing the doorbell, Ellie started shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She could barely look at me, puffing air out through her mouth.

"Look," I stood in front of her, my back facing the door. Then I placed my finger on her chin, lifting her face, and then softened my gaze.

"I understand you have a lot of what-ifs running through your mind right now. But you don't have to be...