(Authors note: hey everyone, thank you for reading this fanfic so far, this chapter was a bit more difficult to write than usual do my apologies if it isn't as good as the others. I hope you like it anyway!)

Elara straightened herself, standing upright and allowing some of the tension to ease from her shoulders. She glanced at the kitchen counter, where her phone lay, the charging cable nestled snugly into the port.

She let out a breath and picked up the device, logging into her college website to inform the administration that she wouldn’t be coming in for classes that afternoon. Her grades were far from her list of concerns right now.

Once she was done, Elara turned on her favorite playlist, letting it play softly in the background as she gathered whatever she had in the house to make a proper breakfast.

Humming along to the music, she nearly dropped the egg she was holding when an intense screech of static burst from her phone’s speakers. She whipped her head toward it, eyes widening as the screen flashed every color of the rainbow before going completely dark—plunging the kitchen into silence.

Still staring at her now-dead phone, Elara didn’t even realize how tightly she was gripping the egg—or how tense her body had become—until it shattered in her palm at Becky’s sudden entrance into the room. Becky stormed in, cursing up a hurricane as she tossed her own phone onto the couch.

“Honestly, this woman calls me at the most unholy times of the day,” Becky exclaimed, irritation dripping from her voice, “but whenever I actually need to talk to her, she ignores my calls and leaves me on read!”

“And as if that isn’t bad enough,” she groaned, “my phone just had a midlife crisis and died on me!"

She finally turned toward Elara, her frustration melting into confusion the moment she noticed the egg splattered across her friend’s hand and clothes. Becky smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Jeez, girl. What did that egg ever do to you?”

Elara blinked and turned toward her, egg yolk still dripping between her fingers. “Never mind the egg,” she said, her voice tight. “Your mom isn’t responding to your calls or texts?”

The fear in her tone must have been obvious, because Becky’s playful expression faded. She sighed softly, crossing her arms and shifting her weight.

“Well, after she didn’t pick up the first two times I texted her, I saw her come online for just a second,” she said. “Then my phone decided to join Pride Month and crash out completely.”

Elara fell silent.

Her phone dying like that was one thing—but what were the odds of both of their devices failing at the same time, in the same way?

“Is your mom home alone?” Elara finally asked.

Becky hesitated. “I… I think so.”

A tight knot formed in Elara’s gut, her appetite vanishing completely. She quickly wiped the egg from her hands and crossed the room to the dresser beneath the television, rummaging through one of the drawers before pulling out her old phone.

Becky watched with concern edging her face as Elara brought the device back to life after plugging in the power cable.

The model was significantly older but still fully functional. It even still had some of her contacts saved, including Becky’s mother. Elara was very close with Becky’s parents, seeing as how they grew up together.

A visible sigh of relief left her lips when the screen lit up without a problem, yet the tension never left her frame, her fingers trembling while they danced over the screen. In mere seconds, the two women stood over the phone.
Watching it ring once.

Then twice.

And then on the third ring, both of them perked up when someone answered.

But before either of them could say anything, a scruffy male voice erupted from the phone’s speakers.

“Elara..?” The voice was trembling, occasionally sniffling from a runny nose, like he had been crying. It was Becky’s dad.

“Mr. Peterstone?” Elara questioned.

“Is Becky there with you?!” The urgency in his voice made the knot in her stomach tighten.

“Yes, Dad, I’m here!” Becky called out worriedly.

“Oh, thank God you girls are okay! Someone broke into the house last night and…” His breath hitched, like he had to swallow a thick lump before the sentence could even form in his mouth. “And your mother is currently in… in the emergency room…” he breathed out.

“What?! We will be right there!” Becky nearly yelled and ran to grab her keys and jacket.

“Elara..?” Mr. Peterstone called out.

“Yes?”

“We could really use your support right now…”

“Of course. I won’t let any of you go through this alone,” Elara said, determined. “Hang on, we’ll be right over.” And with that, they hung up.

__________________________________________________________

The rush toward the hospital felt like a blur.

They didn’t bother changing their clothes. They put on their shoes and jackets and left. Even on the bus ride toward the hospital, Elara gently squeezed her best friend’s hands, the shock of the situation still dawning over both of them.
Elara watched helplessly as Becky’s breath came in short bursts, her father waiting for her in the already packed waiting room suddenly getting up at the sight of his daughter bursting through the door.

He looked much older than Elara remembered him to be, with bags already forming under his red, puffy eyes and his mustache looking very unkempt, probably from blowing his nose a few times.

The moment their eyes met, Mr. Peterstone instantly pulled them both into a loving and emotional hug, the musky scent of his cologne filling Elara’s senses as his warmth enveloped her. For the first time since they spoke on the phone, Elara allowed her vision to blur as silent tears streamed down her face.

“What happened..?” she asked once they pulled away from the hug, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man took a deep breath and shook his head. “I… I don’t know. I just found her… her clothes were torn half off her, and she had bruises everywhere… and she just wouldn’t wake up…” As he spoke, Elara could tell that this man, usually so stoic and full of confidence, struggled to keep his voice steady while stringing the sentence together, the lump in his throat audibly growing bigger.

Becky was unusually quiet. She had moved to the window of the room her mother was in, peering inside with silent sobs rocking her body.

Elara opened her mouth to respond, but a man in a white coat stepped into their space, cutting the moment short. Mr. Peterstone turned immediately, his face paling as the doctor addressed him.

“Mr. Peterstone?” the doctor asked gently.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice tight.

The doctor took a small breath. “I’m one of the attending physicians. I’d like to talk to you about your wife’s condition.”
He paused, giving the words time to settle.

“She’s in critical condition,” he continued calmly. “She sustained multiple severe bruises across her body, including injuries consistent with strangulation. There’s also internal bleeding in several areas, particularly around the abdomen and upper thighs.”

Mr. Peterstone ran a hand through his hair, swaying slightly on the spot, yet the doctor continued.

“We were able to stabilize her,” the doctor said carefully. “But she arrived in shock and has suffered significant physical trauma. She’s currently in a medically induced coma while we monitor her condition."

He hesitated, eyes dropping briefly to the clipboard in his hands before meeting Mr. Peterstone’s gaze again.

“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this,” he said quietly, “but there is evidence that your wife was sexually assaulted.”
Silence fell between them.

“We’ve notified the authorities,” the doctor added. “Right now, our focus is keeping her stable. The next few hours are critical.”

Mr. Peterstone nodded in acknowledgment, sitting down on one of the chairs with his head in his hands, letting the words sink in. Elara looked down with wide eyes at the doctor’s assessment. She slowly shuffled over to Becky, placing a hand on her shoulder in silent support.

Becky turned to face her, and Elara felt the knot in her stomach tighten at her best friend’s red, puffy, tear-stricken face. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman in a tight hug.

They stayed like that for a short while, small, quiet sobs leaving the other’s lips while Elara stroked her hair.
In mere minutes, two officers showed up, a man and a woman. They addressed Mr. Peterstone before one of them walked over to the girls.

“Ms. Peterstone?” she said gently. “You and your father will need to come with us to the station to give your statements.”
Becky nodded numbly and wiped her eyes as she stepped away from Elara’s embrace.

As they turned toward the door, the male officer raised a hand, stopping Elara.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said. “We’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Elara blinked. “What? I’m with them.”

“You’re not immediate family,” he replied. “And at this point, this is an active investigation.”

“Elara is family!” Becky snapped.

The officer softened but didn’t budge. “I understand. But hospital policy and procedure don’t leave us any room here.”
Elara raised both eyebrows and glanced at Becky, who was ready to give the officer a piece of her mind.

“I understand,” she stated, stopping Becky from making a scene. She smiled at both of them. Mr. Peterstone gave her a sad but understanding look, while Becky just looked defeated.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll just go home, okay?” she said, watching as Becky and her dad followed the cops outside and entered their car.

Wiping away her own tears, Elara took in a deep breath and walked through the automatic doors of the hospital. The crisp winter air nipped at her skin, making her snuggle further into her jacket.

In the hurry of it all, she had forgotten her earbuds.
And now she had to walk back home alone, in silence.