Nina
The music hums in the background, a mix of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. It’s not raucous, not wild—it’s a celebration, but one tempered by grief. Parker and Luke deserved this moment, a night where we remember their lives, not just their deaths.
I’m standing near the bonfire, watching Callie talk animatedly to Dominic about something I can’t quite hear. For a moment, the weight on my chest feels manageable, almost light.
Then I hear the commotion.
The energy shifts like a ripple through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as heads turn toward the entrance. And there he is. Elijah.
“Elijah,” I say, my voice sharp as I make my way toward him. “What the hell are you doing here? This is private.”
He looks disheveled, his usually impeccable appearance slightly undone. B
