Tiny Crown

Chapter 17

She hated that she had to eat in the living room with him. Emilia hated every moment of it. It was suffocating, being trapped inside, being trapped with him, because of him.

“What happened to your aunt?” she asked quietly. “Nathan said she had run off. Her name was Chelsea, right? There were letters upstairs addressed to her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head. Evan stood and headed into the kitchen. Emilia followed. He set his plate down on the counter and she did the same thing.

Emilia knew she should have left it at that but she grabbed his arm and pulled his sleeve up. “That wasn’t from your accident.”
“Please let go of my arm,” he whispered, closing his eyes. Emilia kept hold of it, it wasn’t like he couldn’t pull it free.
“Was it your mother?” she asked. It wouldn’t surprise her considering his mother was trying to murder her.
“Let go of my arm,” he said again. Emilia didn’t. Evan ripped his arm away and pulled his sleeve back down, covering the scar. He tensed and stared at her with anger in his eyes.

As much as she knew it would be a bad idea, she stared at him.
“Did your aunt run off, like Nathan said she did?”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” His voice was on the verge of breaking and his hand gripped his arm tightly, covering the scar.

“I don’t think she ran off.” Emilia shook her head slightly. There was something else, she could feel it. “You didn’t answer me and you didn’t answer Nathan and you said there was another reason you wouldn’t call the police, one you wouldn’t tell me. Your mother already wants to kill me and your brother seems to be just fine with it too. You’ve stalked me and kidnapped me, how much worse could it really be?”

Seeing the look in Evan’s eyes, she regretted that question.

“You want to know? Fine,” he said, raising his voice. She’d made him angry. “I killed my aunt.”

Emilia could feel herself shaking, she didn’t know what she had expected him to say.
“Are you happy with that answer?” he asked bitterly. “I killed my aunt. She was the one who gave me the scar on my arm as well as a few others.”
She stumbled backwards, her chest twinged with pain. “You’re a murderer.”
He nodded. “Yes, I… Yes.”

Emilia wished she had never asked, why couldn’t she have just stayed oblivious to it?
“But… she was your aunt,” she stuttered. She couldn’t imagine hurting her aunt on purpose let alone what he had done. “Why?”
“She hurt me,” Evan said quietly. His anger morphed into sadness. “She hurt me, I... “
“She was abusive?” she asked. Hesitantly, Evan nodded.

“She tried to do something else, she was drunk and I…” He trailed off and looked at Emilia. He looked and sounded like a scared child but all Emilia could think was that he murdered his abusive aunt. “Amy told me if someone were to do something and I didn’t like it, I can tell them to stop. And if they don’t, I can try to escape and get help and push them off me or something.”
Emilia realised that this wasn’t the abuse he had been used to from his aunt, it was worse. A lot worse by the sounds of it. “I… I don’t-”

“I told her to stop,” he said, interrupting Emilia. He finally let go of his arm to wipe his left eye with his hand. He looked away from her and his eyes fixated on the counter by the stairs. “She didn’t listen and I kept telling her and then I got angry. I got angry and hit her, she did something, I… I think I hit her again. She told me to call an ambulance, she was bleeding, but I was angry, I was so angry at her for all that she’d done, and I didn’t even remember it all. She fell, I’d pushed her off me again and she hit her head off the counter.”

Emilia stared at him for a moment. “Did it kill her?”
Evan shrugged. “Head injuries bleed a lot.” That didn’t answer her question at all. “I called Amy, told her what my aunt tried to do to me and she offered to call the police. I… I told her not to, told her it was fine because she was gone. She thought I meant that my aunt had left the house and I just… went along with it. I didn’t call an ambulance. I left her there, I don’t know how long for but she was cold when I tried to check for a pulse.”
“She doesn’t know?” asked Emilia. He had lied to his only friend.
Evan shook his head. “Just us.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said softly. “I was scared. I just wanted her to stop.” Emilia felt sick. Her stomach was twisting and turning and her chest ached. Not knowing what else to do, she turned and sprinted upstairs to the room. He called after her but she ignored him, shutting the room’s door behind her, not caring if he’d lock her in. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Heading to the bathroom, she knelt next to the toilet but she didn’t throw up.

Why couldn’t she have just stayed quiet?