"...you just need to get down here, Harry. All hell is breaking loose." I heard distant yells from the other line mingled with what I thought was glass breaking.
"Jill, it's nearly two o'clock in the morning," I stated. "Why did you call everyone in anyway?"
"Well, they work here, I figured they had a right to know what was going on," she said defensively.
"What is going on?" I asked for at least the third time, my voice nearly coming out in a shout.
"Hurry up and get here, and you'll find out for yourself."
"Alright, I'll..." I let out an exhausted huff. "Ella and I will be there in fifteen minutes. Just try to keep them from murdering each other."
"No promises." With that, we both hung up, and I was jogging back upstairs.
Something had happened with William, and Jill denied telling me what until I got there.
I paced down the hallway, entering my room. "Ella, we need to..."
I felt my heart sink as I saw tears streaming down her cheeks while she sat on the edge of the bed. I glanced down to her hands, teardrops splattering on pages of a book while she hugged the duvet wrapped around her closer to her chest.
No, it wasn't a book. A journal. Her father's journal.
My throat immediately became dry as I leisurely approached her.
"Ella, please just - "
"Why..." she breathed out. "Why do you have this?"
I stood beside her, her focus still on the book. "Can we just talk about - "
"Answer the question," she interrupted, talking through clenched teeth.
I settled myself next to her, and she still refused to make eye contact with me.
"When we were in the hospital, your mother and I were talking, and she asked me to take the journal and give it to you after she died. And I - "
"It's been over a year since, Harry." Her sentence came out in a broken cry. She finally turned to me, hazel eyes dull. "You've been keeping this from me for over a year."
A stinging sensation rose in my throat. "I didn't want to hurt you, Ella. After she was gone, you were so upset an-and numb to everything, and it took you so long to be happy again. And I was the person that gave it back to you, and I didn't want to be the person to take it away."
Streams shot down her cheeks as she nodded and glanced away, unwrapping the cover from her body to stand up. She snatched her underwear off the carpet to shimmy them on before shuffling over to my closet, hastily rummaging through my clothes.
"What are you doing?"
She retrieved the purple Jack Wills sweatshirt that she came to favor, along with my Pink Floyd t-shirt. "I'm going home." She abruptly pulled it over her head, unwrinkling it down her stomach.
"Home? It's two o'clock in the morning."
She traipsed over to my chest of drawers, pulling out a pair of my sweatpants before slipping them up her legs.
"I'll walk," she said firmly, sniffling.
She reached for the journal on my bed, holding it close to her chest as she walked out the door.
"Wait, Ella!" I quickly grabbed my joggers that lay on the floor, hopping down the stairs while attempting to slide them up my legs.
I darted to the door, using my body as a shield to prevent her from opening it.
