Nightmare In The Daylight

When me and Elliot walk back to his house, the air feels different.

Not just the grief that clings to the walls and fabrics, but the density of people, their hushed voices, the smell of overbrewed coffee and cloying flower arrangements filling the rooms. It's packed. Aunts, uncles, cousins, friends of the family—some I recognize, some I don't. Their eyes flick toward me, lingering a second too long.

Elliot senses it. He turns to me with a tired look, one hand on my back.

"You okay?"

I nod. But it's more of a half-gesture. My chest tightens in spaces like this.

"I think I'll walk around a bit," I say, voice soft. "Get some air."

He hesitates. His brows twitch the way they do when he's not quite ready to let go of something. But he nods eventually.

"Promise you'll call me if anything weird happens."

I give him a small smile and nod. "Promise."

He watches me for a few more seconds. Then steps into the crowd. I slip out the gate.