“It’s getting late.” Cliff glances at me, then Adam, before looking back at Elowen. "Is anyone hungry?" he asks, his voice quiet. "I can cook something."
Elowen opens her mouth, and I expect her to say she's fine for the hundredth time since we got back from her apartment. But what comes out instead freezes the room.
"My parents were murdered,” she blurts out.
Raff’s head snaps up, his eyes going wide as they meet Cliff’s. “What?” He turns and looks at me, but all I can do is shrug. “What did you say?” He leans back down, trying to see Elle’s face. “Did you say your parents were murdered?”
Elowen stares at her lap for a moment, both hands pressed flat against her thighs, her knuckles pale against the dark fabric of her sweats. She looks as shocked at what she said as the rest of us.
“Um…yeah,” she finally says. “They were both killed.” Something moves across her face after that. Almost a flinch. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Cliff reaches over and placeshis hand on her knee. He rubs in circles, waiting until she looks up at him. "You don’t have to talk about it,” he says. “But you can if you want to.”
“We’re here for you,” Raff says softly.
I feel like I should say something too, but I have no idea what. So instead, I keep my mouth shut.
“It happened three years ago,” Elowen finally says. “They were…killed. Both of them. In our pharmacy." She takes a deep breath, clearly trying to hold herself together.
"Your parents owned a pharmacy?" Raff asks.
"Yeah." She swallows. "It was a small one, there in Cassville. Independent. They'd had it since before I was born." She picks at the hem of her sleeve, not looking at anyone. "I was in the back room when it happened. Doing inventory."
She stops.
Cliff's hand tightens on her knee, enough to let her know he's still there, and she draws in a slow breath through her nose.
"I heard the bell above the door go off," she says. "Which was normal. It was a Thursday afternoon, and we had a couple of customers come through. And then I heard my mom say something. I couldn't make out the words, but I remember thinking her voice sounded off." She pauses. "And then I heard my mom scream.”
The living room is absolutely silent.
Adam has gone completely still beside me. I can feel the tension running through his arm where it presses against mine, his whole body locked up and listening.
"I was on the floor with my dad," Elowen says, and her voice has changed now. The careful flatness is starting to crack at the edges, something raw and uneven bleeding through underneath it. "I don't even remember how I endedup next to him." She frowns, tilting her head slightly. "I could see underneath the shelving unit. Under the gap at the bottom. And I could see the man’s feet."
"The shooter?" Cliff asks quietly.
"He didn’t—." She shakes her head once, telling me they weren’t shot, but none of us are mean enough to ask. "He was on the other side of the shop with my mom. And then he—” Her chin quivers as tears fill her eyes. “I saw it. There was blood everywhere, and I just." She stops. Presses her lips together hard. "Everything smelled like copper and antiseptic and I remember thinking, wrong, it was all wrong. Next thing I knew, I was screaming.” Her glassy eyes narrow like she’s remembering it all. “The shop always, always smelled like my mom's hand lotion and the cleaning solution my dad used on the counters every single morning." Her voice breaks on the last word, and she drops her chin toward her chest, gritting her teeth.
Raff moves without a word. He reaches over and wraps one tattooed hand around hers. He doesn't say anything. He simply holds onto her, his soft gray eyes pulling in the corners.
Cliff's jaw tightens, the muscle jumping beneath his skin, and his eyes are very dark as he watches her pull herself back together. I've seen Cliff absorb a lot of things in the years I've known him. Bad news, physical pain, the kind of confrontations that would make most men fold. But right now he looks like he's barely holding on.
"The cops said it was a robbery gone wrong," Elowen sniffles, lifting her head. Her eyes are wet, but she hasn't let anything spill over yet, holding it back through what looks like sheer stubbornness. "The register was open, and some cash was gone, as were a few controlled meds. On paper itmade sense." She shakes her head slowly. "But I don't think it was."
"Why not?" Adam asks from beside me, and his voice is so gentle it doesn't even sound like him.
Elowen looks at him for a moment, like she's deciding something. Then she looks around the room at all of us, and whatever she finds there seems to be enough.
"It was so…violent,” she finally says. "One of the detectives called it overkill." She squeezes the hem of her shirt between her fingers. "It—” she lets out a heavy breath. “It made no sense.”
Nobody speaks for a moment.
“Is that what triggered your transition?” I ask softly.
Elowen looks at me, eyes wide like she’s surprised I put that together.
“You mentioned at Odette’s that something happened three years ago….” I trail off, when I realize everyone is looking at me.
