ELLA

“Darren killed Daphne.”

My brain hits a pause.

On so many levels, I am convinced that there’s been a considerable breach in communication. One of us is either saying the wrong thing, or hearing it.

I scoff. “I thought you said Darren killed Daphne.”

“That’s what I said, Ella.”

The ice cream slipped from my grip. Cold sweat forms across my forehead and every inch of my skin gets covered in goosebumps. “That’s not possible…” is the first and only thing I can ...