Sebastian killed my parents.

Everything hurts all of a sudden. It's like I'm in a dream, or a trance, or something, but whatever this is, it cannot possibly be real.

Sebastian couldn't have killed my parents.

He wouldn't have.

They were robbed. They weren't assassinated.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man sneers, seeing the fear etched all across my face. "Did I say something wrong?"

He turns then, takes a final bite of his muffin, and steps through the threshold of the shop. I'm still shaking like crazy, my mind racing to piece together what just happened, but I manage to call after him, "What's your name?"

He chuckles, steps outside, and then he's out of sight. "I think you already know the answer to that, missy," he calls back. "And hey," he says, his voice thick with sadistic pleasure, "if you ever change your mind about Sebastian, I'm always waiting at the dance studio."

The next thing I know, he's gone, and all I want to do is break out into tears. I'm still shaking and feeling sick to my stomach by the time Sebastian reaches me, grabbing my arm. His eyes are filled with worry as he pulls me toward him. "Everything okay, angel?" he asks, and I somehow manage to nod, forcing back the tears.

"Were you talking to someone?" he says urgently, eyes darting between my face and the open door. "I thought I heard your voice."

I shake my head, feeling my stomach twist. A sob racks through me and I'm barely able to hold it back, because just looking into Sebastian's eyes reminds me of what he is: a cold-blooded killer.

But could he really have done that to my parents? My Sebastian?

"I was just talking to myself," I say, barely keeping my voice from cracking. "There was no one."

Sebastian doesn't look like he believes me, but he nods anyway. "Okay," he says. "Let's get you home."

He gently takes my muffin basket from me and goes up to the cash register, purchasing the food. And I just stand there, watching, but all I can think about is him, holding a gun to my parents' heads two years ago.

Chapter Fifteen

I don't tell Sebastian what the man told me. I don't have the will to, not until I know for sure.

As soon as we make it home, I race straight to the bathroom and lock the door behind me, then proceed to puke several times. I let it all out of me, let out all of the pain and the churning in my stomach, let all of the memories escape me. I start crying too, crying through everything, and I crumple back, sinking against the wall, and I just cry and cry because I don't know what else to do.

I feel so terrible, like I just lost my parents all over again, because the one person I have left in my life might be the cause of why it was so bleak beforehand.

None of it feels real, honestly. It's like I'm dreaming, and having one of the worst nightmares in the history of nightmares. Sebastian couldn't do that, right? He couldn't kill my parents.

The worst part is I don't even know anymore. He said himself he'd done bad things, so what's to stop him from doing something like that? How can I even trust him? I try to tell myself that I'm overreacting, that whoever that man was is just trying to throw me off or something. Or maybe it's just a practical joke or whatever. I don't know. And I most certainly don't know how to figure out the truth. I can't possibly bring myself to ask Sebastian in case I'm wrong, and I'm pretty much locked up in this house, so I'd have no other way of finding out.

Another sob racks through me at the thought. I'm trapped in a house with a man who may have killed my parents.

Just then, there is a knock at the door. I jolt up, my stomach hurting. "You all right in there?" It's Sebastian's voice, filled with concern.

"Yes," I say, barely keeping my voice from cracking. "I'm fine. Just a little sick."

Sebastian pauses. "I'm coming in."

"No!" I say quickly, then realize how I sound and add, "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Angel, if you think I care what you look like then you really--"

"I just want to be alone," I say, cutting him off. "Okay?"

"Angel--"

"Sebastian, please."

He sighs. "Okay. But if there is something wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

"Right," I say, feeling sick all over again. "You'd be the first to know."

That seems to satisfy him. He starts walking away, down the hall, to the living room. I hold everything in until the sound of his footsteps has faded away, and then I break out into a fit of sobs and more throw-up.

I spend most of the afternoon in the bathroom. I've lost all the willpower to get up. I just sit there, holding back the tears, racing to piece together a reason why Sebastian would never kill my parents, a reason I can really believe, so I can finally move on from this.

But I can't. I can't think of anything. Because Sebastian… he's the kind of person who would follow orders. He would kill without a thought. And that scares the hell out of me.

I don't even know why I'm giving so much credit to this one thing a man I don't even know said. I mean, after all, I'm sure there were other Mr. and Mrs. Knights with a daughter murdered two years ago, but still. Something about the way he said it… it didn't feel like he was lying. He was definitely trying to rattle me for whatever reason, but he didn't sound like he was making it up. He sounded like he was telling the truth, and was certainly more than happy to do so.

I feel sick again at the thought.

Sebastian killed my parents.

Sebastian. killed. my parents.

Would he really do that to me? To us? Would he really let himself love me, even after he took away my family? Does he really have that little morals? I tell myself that he doesn't. I tell myself it's a lie. I tell myself that my Sebastian would never hurt me like that. I tell myself that I trust him. And I believe it, kind of. But a part of me can't help but feel that the man, whoever he is, is telling the truth.

Come dinner time, I finally make my way out of the bathroom. I can barely stand, and I gulp down several cups of water as soon as I reach the kitchen. The liquid feels good against my raw throat, feels natural.

I collapse on the couch where Sebastian is sitting, but I don't dare look at him. I can't meet his gaze anymore, not without remembering that cold-blooded look I saw in him last week. Not without thinking how easy it could have been for him to use that same look on my parents, right before he pulled the trigger.

The possibility makes my heart sink.

I could very well be falling in love with the man who murdered my parents.

I try to remind myself that there is no way it's true, but the more I say it, the less I believe it.

Sebastian doesn't say anything to me the whole time we're in the living room, which is a total relief. I can see he wants to though, can see how he wants to ask me what's wrong, but he doesn't. So we just sit on the couch and watch TV, letting time slip away, and I try my best to get lost in the pointless soap operas, but I can't anymore. The pounding in my heart is too strong, and a migraine is coming on, making my head hurt all over.

Soon, my mind drifts back to the man at the little supermarket. There was something about what he said, how he was acting like I knew who he was… it didn't feel right for some reason. It's like I'm supposed to know him. But there's only one person I know of who knows Sebastian, and that person is… Marco.

My stomach seizes.

Marco.

Could that man have been Marco?