Finding a small photo album buried in the back of a drawer, Lucas’ frenetic pacing had ceased, and his breath hitched. His fingers ran across the cover of the album, a layer of untouched dust settling on his skin.

“Nervous?” I whispered, needing to break the stifling silence that was gaining in presence as each second passed.

Lucas nodded, keeping his gaze to the floor, his hands gripped tightly around the album.

I patted the space next to me on the bed, never taking my eyes off of him.

“Lucas, come sit. Share what you need. We have time.”

“Right, ok,” Lucas exhaled and took a seat across from me. The energy coming off him now was dark. The sunlight he seemed to constantly have spilled from his body was gone.

Placing the photo album between us, Lucas slowly opened it to the first page. A photo of a taller dark-haired man with green eyes smiled back at us, his arm wrapped around the shoulder of a blonde-haired woman, her eyes closed. She had clearly been laughing when the photo was taken.

“My parents. Stephen and Marie. They met in high school and got married when they graduated. I was born a few years later, then Jace,” Lucas narrated as he turned the page. 

The next photo was of a toddler-aged Lucas, a bandage on his nose and freckles splattered across his cheeks, as he rode on his father's shoulders, his mother standing near them, clearly pregnant with Jace. Next to that, was a photo of Lucas holding a baby swaddled tightly in a blanket. This was clearly Jace, his cheeks were chubby and it was clear that tiny Lucas was having a difficult time holding up his new baby brother.

“Your mom is beautiful,” I smiled, running my fingers across the photos.

“Yeah, she was,” Lucas sniffled, as he turned to the next photo.

It was clearly more recent than the last, Lucas and Jace were dressed in suits, standing between a different set of adults I had seen in the photo on his bookshelf. Lucas’ eyes in the photo were puffy and red.

“My godparents, Dex and Shana, took us in a couple of weeks before this photo was taken. Their daughter, my godsister Joelle, took it for us.”

“Where… where was this photo taken exactly,” I reached my hand toward Lucas, wanting to provide some comfort.

Maybe I shouldn't.

I folded my hands back into my lap and waited for him to continue.

He hiccuped, and I could see his eyes were wet, he was trying to fight back his tears.

“My parent's funeral. Remember how I told you, I rebuilt the car?”

I nodded, wringing my hands together. I couldn't take my eyes off the photo of Jace and Lucas in their suits. They looked devastated. They seemed so small, their eyes too red.

It was the next set of photos that crushed me. I gasped and my fingers trembled as I touched them. It was 4 photos of the Mustang in various stages of destruction. The roof of the car was now level with the seats, the windows missing. The axels were bent and the passenger door was gone.

“My parents left us with Dex and Shana to go on a small road trip. At least, that's what we were told at the time. I was 14. Jace was 10 and he was about to turn 11. It was 2 weeks before his birthday. We thought they had gone somewhere to buy Jace a special present. I found out a few years later that my dad had told Dex that the trip was actually so that they could head to a bigger city and file their divorce papers,” Jace laughed, bitterness creeping into his voice, “My dad had other plans. See he had been having an affair since Jace was born. Mom found out, left us behind so she could go and stay with Dex and Shana, and decided she had had enough of him. He dealt with it by drinking and breaking things around the house. He would lock us in our rooms for hours on end with nothing, no food, no access to the bathroom or water. He started crafting a plan to take them both out. If he couldn’t have her, then no one, not even his fucking children, could.”

Lucas slammed his hand into the bed. The sudden movement scared me and I jumped scooting back.

Lucas raised his hands and looked at me. Reaching towards me with his palm up, I placed my hand in his.

“Sorry… I… I didn’t mean to scare you."

You didn't mean to.

You're angry.

I can see it in your face.

“I’m fine Luca, I promise,” I squeezed his hand tightly, trying to be the anchor in the storm of this conversation.

“So dad calls mom, explains that he wants to file the paperwork for the divorce and that she needs to head there with him. She agreed and the next day they were dead. Dad found a stretch of road on the side of a mountain and as they got close to a large turn, he sped up and plowed through the guard rail sending the car flipping down the side of the mountain. Mom was tossed out and found wrapped around a tree. They found Dad still in the car at the bottom of the cliff, hanging out the driver's side window. They both died on impact,” Lucas’ story trailed off in a whisper, tears silently running down his face.