After my unplanned hiatus, I present part two. I love you, juicy McNuggets.

ENJOY.

Gilbert leaned against the wall in the kitchen and watched as Elizaveta fussed over every little detail of the streamers. She hung them carefully, taking a pin out of her mouth and fastening them to the wall. She finished the row and stepped off of the chair, shooting Gilbert an annoyed look.

"You could help, you lazy ass."

Gilbert gave her a charming smile, and didn't move from his seat. "I am helping. I'm going to eat the food so you don't have to clean up as much."

Elizaveta placed her hands on her hips. Both of them knew Gilbert sucked at interior design, something Gilbert decided he would leave to his spouse once they were married and living together. So it wasn't like he was being worthless. Elizaveta figured it was better he sit around instead of destroying her hard work. Balloons and streamers adorned the entire room, a sign hung in the doorway that read, "Happy Birthday, Matthew!". How she had gotten a sign that had his name on it, Gilbert would never know. Probably custom made.

"When's he coming over?" She asked, tilting her head at the one bundle of blue balloons. "And do these seem tilted to the left a little too far?"

Gilbert looked at the balloons for a bit. "At noon. And I think they look fine."

"Yeah, but you suck at judging." Elizaveta snapped.

Gilbert looked at her like she had just come back from the dead and raised his shoulders silently wondering what the hell he deserved to receive this kind of treatment. "Then why did you even ask?"

"Urg, whatever." She walked forward and straightened the balloons. Gilbert wasn't going to mention that now they looked like they were leaning a little to the right.

Elizaveta stepped back with a smile on her face, looking satisfied. "Perfect! He'll love it!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. Elizaveta turned toward him, her face dropping into a straight line.

"Just curious." She said, "But have you told him anything about the…stuff before?"

Gilbert tried to look Elizaveta in the eyes, but faltered and stared at the wall when he answered. "I haven't really been able to bring it up." He refused to see that disappointed look she always wore. Sometimes he felt like she was more of a mom than a best friend to him.

He heard her sigh. "Gilbert…"

Gilbert didn't say anything and looked down at his knee. It was becoming stiff from bending it for so long.

"Gilbert, you have to tell him. You can't hide this forever. He's going to find out eventually, and probably not even from you."

"I know!" Gilbert snapped, looking at Elizaveta, a snarl wanting to rip from his chest. He felt defensive, dangerous, and exposed. But she wasn't afraid of him.

"I know how much you care about him. I can see it. If you don't tell him, he'll find out he's been with someone he never knew. Would you want him to realize that? Would you want to do that to him?"

She walked past him. "You wouldn't want that to happen to you."

Elizaveta walked up the stairs into the bathroom and closed the door. Gilbert stared at the floor until his leg started throbbing. He had clutched the skin on his thigh so tightly that he had cut it through his jeans.

Gilbert stood by himself in the changing room. Gym was his final class of the day, so he wasn't in any hurry to go anywhere. Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, he checked for any new messages. Nope. Still none from Francis or Antonio. After the party a few weeks back, he had thought that maybe he'd been a huge dick about the whole situation. Antonio had been scared for his life, and Gilbert hadn't cared in the least bit. He wasn't surprised they were both mad at him. He was proud, but he allowed himself to feel a little bit of self pity and loneliness sweep over him. He had a lot of friends, but it was his best friends that he spent all his time with.

Now that he was thinking about it, he hadn't seen Antonio in school yesterday or today. Francis had been in school, but he had ignored Gilbert. But he could deal. Francis and he actually fought rather easily, since they were both rather hot-tempered. He just didn't want to admit it had never been this bad.

And besides, Antonio couldn't afford to miss too much school. His family wasn't the most financially stable, and he spent a lot of his time trying to get a scholarship from running, and good grades, though he knew his attendance record may mess that up.

Gilbert felt pathetic, but he decided to go to Antonio's house to give him the history notes he missed as an excuse to see him. He couldn't believe he had sunk so low, but he didn't want to feel friendless.

He heard the locker room door open, but didn't look up. He pulled a fresh t-shirt over his head, and shook his hair out of his face. He needed a haircut. He could almost imagine Elizaveta grabbing a pair of scissors herself, Francis and Antonio holding him down as he pleaded for them to let him go. He forced the awful thought from his mind, hoping to get to a barber before anyone got the idea.

He stepped back from his gym locker and closed it, then jumped in surprise. Ivan stood before him, watching him. He looked like he had been standing there for a while, and Gilbert realized that he must have been the person who walked into the locker room.

"Holy shit, man" Gilbert's chest heaved. "Fuck, you scared me."

Ivan's expression didn't change. Instead he continued to stare at him, flat, his eyes dull. Gilbert hadn't talked to him since what had happened with Natalia. And he wasn't about to. After finding out it had been his sister they had locked in that shed, he'd stopped hanging out with Ivan, riddled with guilt. Gilbert picked up his gym bag, and was about to make an excuse for why he was suddenly in a hurry.

"Where are you going?" Ivan asked quietly.

Gilbert stopped in place and looked at Ivan. "Just…home. I have a lot of homework to do." He finished dully. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling so edgy. He felt like Ivan knew. Like he knew that he had been involved. He felt guilty for it, yeah, but what was he supposed to do?

"You should stay and talk." The way Ivan said this made Gilbert look at him.

"Dude, I can't. I have to go, seriously. My brother's waiting for me." He tried to keep his voice level, but his eyes gave away that he was looking for an escape.

Ivan decided to skip jumping around the subject. "You come near my sister again…"

Gilbert stopped and tried not to swallow nervously. "Your sister? Katyusha?"

"Natalia, you fucker." Ivan snarled.

Gilbert took a step backward, wondering why he had tried to play dumb. "Okay, look, Ivan? I had no idea that was your sister, and besides, I didn't do anything to her." He said quickly.

"And why would that matter?" Ivan asked, "I saw you walk out of that shed with your friends and stand while they locked the fucking door."

"I didn't know what was going on, alright?" Gilbert snapped, running out of excuses. He was a trapped mouse, at the jaws of a rabid wolf. "I hardly remember anything that happened that night!"

"You don't remember me asking you where my sister was? Or maybe you thought it would be funny for her to stay locked away for two days because no one knew she was out there?"

Gilbert stopped and stared at him in shock. "What, what do you mean that she was in there for two days? She—Ashley said she unlocked the shed after the party!"

Ivan laughed bitterly and Gilbert felt his spine shiver. "What the fuck? You believe that goddamn bitch? Of course she didn't unlock it. When they found her, guess what? She was so dehydrated, the doctor's considered it a miracle she was still alive."

Gilbert didn't say anything for a while, his heart pounding in his ears. Ivan's last sentence repeated over and over in his mind. Miracle she was still alive, miracle she was still alive.

"I, I didn't—" Gilbert stammered.

"Shut up." Ivan snarled. Gilbert's eyes widened and he was quiet. "If I see you near any of my sister's, don't even mess with me. I will hurt you. Do you want to know what it's like? Do you want to see your brother in a hospital bed, messed up like my sister?"

Gilbert bristled, "Don't you dare touch Ludwig!"

The bang that echoed through the locker room was the only sound for nearly a minute. Gilbert stared at the dent in the locker, just centimeters from his head.

"Holy shit." He breathed. "Holy shit, you're fucking crazy."

"Try me." Ivan said quietly, but it sounded like screaming in the empty room. He drew his fist back as Gilbert turned and ran out of the locker room, leaving his bag. He tried to look casual, as if he were only in a hurry with an easy jog, but by the time he was in the parking lot, practically sprinted to his car. People watched him curiously as he pulled out his keys, trying to unlock the door with his shaking hands. He raced out of the driveway, not paying attention to where he was going. His breathing was erratic, and his hands were sweating, making it hard to hold onto the steering wheel. A car horn blared through his brain, tearing him off his path. Quite literally. A car slammed into the side of his car. He felt the glass shower all around him as the car landed on its side. In a moment of delirium, he had thought that it was rain and he held his hand out, staring at it in wonder. His head felt hot and wet, and he touched it. Looking at his fingers, he saw blood on them. He stared at it, before the driver from the other car ran over to him.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" The woman yelled, frantically trying to get the car door open.

"What have I done?" Gilbert asked shakily, staring at the blood. "What have I done?"

Gilbert didn't want to look at Matthew, and Matthew was doing exactly the same. He had his hands laced together behind his head and was resting it between his knees. But Gilbert knew he was listening. He had been delirious from the accident, suffering from a rather violent concussion, but all he could think about was a broken little girl, and her brother, a crazed, murderous look in his eyes. He had never thought he could fuck things up so badly. He was a monster. An absolute monster.

He took a deep breath. He couldn't stop. No matter how much it hurt, he couldn't stop now.

After Gilbert was discharged from the hospital (He was only there for a few hours, having only suffered minor injuries, aside from a few stitches in his arm, a concussion, and a lot of bruises), he stayed home for several days, since his head felt like someone had thrown a brick at him. It was the third day on home rest when he didn't feel like throwing up each time he woke up, his brother came home after school with his homework. He didn't pay too much attention until he saw Antonio and Francis walk in through the door behind him.

"Yeah, you look like you're enjoying yourself." Francis eyed the huge bowl of ice cream Gilbert had with him. Hey, he was home alone, and no one was going to say no to someone that just got out of the hospital.

Gilbert sat up from the couch in surprise, looking between his two best friends. He muted the tv. "What are you guys doing here?" He tried not to sound incredulous.

Antonio looked at him like he was stupid. "Gilbert, you got in a car crash, and the only thing anyone knew was that some kid saw you get put in an ambulance."

Gilbert lifted his arm and pointed to the bandage. "I got stitches." He said rather stupidly.

"Yeah, we can see that." Francis said. "What, did you lose part of your head too?"

"Concussion." Gilbert said and Antonio nodded thoughtfully.

"I had one once. Did you see double vision?"

"I still do sometimes." Gilbert said. "They said it was pretty bad, that's why they let me stay home for a few days." This casual talk was making Gilbert uneasy. Shouldn't they be pissed at him? Weren't they mad at all the bullshit he had pulled on them?

"But you're fine, right?" Francis asked quietly. Gilbert looked at him and they stared at each for a bit before he nodded.

"Yeah, I'm coming back on Monday."

"Good. Dude, you scared us. Why didn't you answer your phone?" Antonio asked, the one that always worried the most out of the three. He had more motherly instincts than Elizaveta sometimes. Francis looked down uncomfortably, not wanting to admit that he had been worried or nervous about Gilbert's well being as well.

"I, uh, don't remember where I left it." Gilbert lied, remembering he had put it in his bag that he had left in the locker room. "I think I forgot it in my locker."

"That sucks. I'm going to get something to eat." Francis walked away. This was his friend's second home, and they didn't bother asking anymore, ever since Gilbert's mom had persisted them repeatedly that they didn't have to ask, that they could eat whatever they wanted in the fridge. She was always prepared, since she had two energetic boys in the house. Not that energetic was a word to describe Ludwig, but he ate like a tank.

Francis left Antonio and Gilbert alone. Gilbert felt like he was drowning in the awkward silence that ensued.

They both opened their mouths at the same time, searching for something to say. "I—" They smiled apologetically at each other. Gilbert took a deep breath and decided to speak first.

"Antonio, that night at the party a few weeks ago…"

"Gilbert, I could go on for hours wondering why you did that to us." Antonio's voice was soft, forgiving, but stern. "And I could come up with a million different reasons. I would like to know why you would want to hurt yourself, or why you would want to hurt us. And it's stupid, what you do. And for whatever reason you've done stuff like this, I hope you know that we'll wait for you to realize that we'll still be here for you."

Gilbert stared at his lap, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He didn't shed any, but he felt dangerously close to. "I don't know why I do stuff like that." He said quietly. "All those drugs, all that partying. I hate it. I hate all of it."

"Gilbert." Antonio said quietly. "Then just quit."

Gilbert hesitated, refusing to look at Antonio.

"Just quit. We'll help you. We always have. Don't turn your back on us."

Gilbert looked up at Francis. He felt his chest constrict as he held back a sob. He was tired of this hole he had dug himself into because he had this idea that he was holier-than-thou.

"I will." He said quietly. "I will."

Relief was evident on both of their faces. Antonio picked up his backpack from the floor and sat down next to Gilbert on the couch. "Good. Now help me with this Calculus homework."

Gilbert didn't know who to thank. But he did a million times over.

He decided not to tell them about Natalia or Ivan.

"Come ooonnn, Antonio!" Gilbert yelled from the passenger side of Francis' car. He felt nervous sitting in the car, but felt better that he wasn't the person driving. "We're going to be late!"

Antonio ran out of his house and leapt into the car. He grinned at both of them before they drove away from the curb. Two weeks later, and there had been an anonymous invitation passed around the senior class that everyone was invited to the party in the abandoned barn on Courtland Avenue. Years ago, a man owned a farm on the property. He had died, and he had no one to inherit the land, so the barn was left alone. It was a popular place for people to hold parties. The senior class had declared it their place this year before the underclassmen could, making it an all exclusive place to be. If you were a junior and so much as breathed air from inside that barn during a party, you were considered extremely lucky. No one lived around for miles, so none of the neighbors ever had a clue of the wild parties that people held in the barn.

Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis decided to all go, and they promised to keep an eye on him.

By the time they arrived and parked the car behind the barn, the party was in full swing. Someone had bought portable boom box that was playing so loud, the barn doors shook from the bass. Strings of lights lit up the inside of the barn, all hooked up to a generator.

Opening the doors, Gilbert saw several kegs at one end of the barn. Large crowds of people danced to the beat of the music, while others hung back and leaned against the walls. The place was packed, and Gilbert had to crane his neck to see anyone he recognized. After milling around for several minutes, they ran into Lars, who was dancing with a girl they had never seen before. It wasn't uncommon for people from neighboring schools to come to these kind of parties. The more the merrier.

Lars broke away from the girl and came over to talk to them. He told them that near the back of the barn, there was a small room they should check out that was up in the loft that people didn't know about since the staircase was hidden from view. Gilbert thanked him and he went back to the girl, who stood impatiently, obviously not used to being ignored for so long.

After some trial and error, they eventually found the staircase that was hidden behind some old wheelbarrows no one had bothered to throw out. Shoving the stuff out of the way, they climbed up the stairs, careful that they didn't break under their weight, and stood up on the loft. Gilbert found the room and saw that the lock was old and rusted, so he easily pulled it off. Opening the door, he let out a small laugh of delight when he realized that the lights in the room were hooked onto a mini generator of it's own.

His eyes fell on the tie dyed curtain that acted as the backdrop. The walls were covered in graffiti, people signing their names with dates, others writing poetic quotes, even detailed, intricate pictures of anything you could think of. The room was like a secret kept within a secret. This place had a little bit of everything in it, from old couches people had carried up over the years, to forgotten bongs, and old books. This place looked like it was meant for everyone, from the druggies, to the poetic and literate, to the party goer.

"Dude, this is awesome." Antonio said. Francis and Antonio nodded in agreement. "I wish Romano were here to see it." He added wistfully.

Gilbert made a face. "Come on, so that you two can just screw each other's brains out up here? Gross, dude."

"I agree with Gilbert." Francis said and Antonio shoved both of them, a grin on his face. They sat down on the couches and talked to each other for a while. Gilbert leaned back and listened as Antonio told them stories about his relationship with Romano, and Francis' reenactment's of the fiery Italian's attitude, which he imitated surprisingly well. He was more grateful than he was willing to let on, that if it weren't for his friends, things probably would have gotten worse.

After about fifteen minutes, he stood up and stretched his arms over his head. "I'm thirsty. Does anyone else want anything?"

Both of them nodded there heads and they agreed to all just get some soda. None of them were too interested in getting drunk tonight, and Gilbert figured the whole point of them trying to get him to become clean would go down the drain if he decided to start drinking now. He stepped out of the room, feeling a little disconnected at the loud thumping of the music, and the party going on below. The room had dimmed the noise significantly, making him almost forget it was going on. He walked down the stairs toward the drinks and laughed to himself when he found the cooler stocked full of soda and water, but the kegs almost empty. He pulled out three red cups and filled them with Sprite. At that moment, he had a weird feeling. Like he was being watched. He stood still for a bit, feeling uneasy. Finally, he turned around and his eyes fell on blonde hair, as a tall guy walked away, pushing his way through the crowd of people.

No way.

Gilbert automatically started following after the guy, wanting to know why the hell this person looked a lot like Ivan. Why would he even be here?

The crowd grew denser as Gilbert got to the center of the barn, and finally, he lost site of the familiar silver-blonde hair. He swore under his breath and turned back, almost running into Lars.

"Hey, Gilbert." Lars had to yell over the music. He winked at him and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Guess who's hitting the road early with a gorgeous chick he just met?"

Surprisingly, Lars was sober, which never seemed to happen. Of all the places that he was neither drunk nor high, it was a party. Gilbert couldn't bend his mind around the irony for a moment then finally he refocused on Lars.

"Cool man. Listen, did you just see Ivan here? Like, five seconds ago?"

Lars looked confused and shook his head. "No dude. I don't even know why he would be here. He's not a senior."

"I know." Gilbert became agitated. "But I'm pretty sure I just saw him here." He looked around himself, as if Ivan may just be standing over his shoulder.

Lars shrugged. "I don't know dude. He's probably just crashing the party or something."

Gilbert didn't say anything else. He looked over his shoulder and his shoulder's stiffened because once again, he saw the blonde hair moving through the crowd towards the area where he had left his drinks. Gilbert pushed past Lars and ignored him as he shouted for him to come back. He shoved and pushed until he broke away from the crowd and walked over to the drinks. No one was there. Was he hallucinating? Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he was still having side effects from the concussion. The music from the party was giving him a bit of a headache anyway. Grabbing his drink with shaky hands, he downed half of it, giving to calm himself down. He was nervous, and felt stupid that he was acting so silly because he thought he had seen Ivan.

Get a hold of yourself. He scolded himself and grabbed the two other drinks. He's not here.

He walked back into the room and tried to laugh it off when Francis jokingly said he looked like he had seen a ghost. All three sat around, and continued to talk, Gilbert trying to tear his mind away from the image of Ivan. He could have sworn he had seen him…

He was lost in his own thoughts, his friends' voices a quiet murmur in the background. He felt like it happened suddenly, when he became aware that things started to feel a little weird around him. His whole body felt oddly light, as if he were floating, and Antonio seemed to be talking really slow. Gilbert blinked twice, and felt something begin to drip from his mouth. He placed a hand to his lips and pulled it away. "I'm bleeding." He said it slowly, his words slurring together.

Antonio turned and looked at Gilbert, who was staring at his hand mystified. He was alarmed until he saw that there wasn't any blood on Gilbert at all.

"You're not bleeding." Francis said, giving Gilbert a weird look. Gilbert wiped his mouth on his arm and blankly stared at both of them for a moment. Then he started laughing, sounding mad and unstable. "I think I'm dying! My liver's covered in blood."

Antonio and Francis looked at each other, a bit disturbed. Something about Gilbert's blank stare wasn't right.

"Gilbert, are you alright?" Antonio began to stand up slowly. "Did you take something while you were downstairs getting our drinks?"

Gilbert wasn't paying attention as he watched blood beginning to seep through the walls. Severed rabbits head were hanging from the ceiling, their eyes rolling back. He saw Antonio walk toward him, arms outstretched, his eyes pure black.

"Don't touch me!" Gilbert screamed in horror, striking his arm out in fear. It hit Antonio square in the chest and he crumbled to the ground, clutching himself and wheezing. Francis ran forward to Antonio, and watched in disbelief as Gilbert seemed to momentarily fight with something invisible, then leap over the couches toward the door.

It slammed shut right in his face. He just glimpsed that familiar silver-blonde hair and blue-violet eyes before he heard a metal rod be shoved through the lock. He tried to push the door open several times, but it didn't give, until he was ramming his whole body against the frame with all of his weight. He repeated over and over in a quiet monotone, "The door's locked, the door's locked, the door's locked…" He stared back at his two friends, but all he saw was the black eyes. He was stuck in a room with two demons.

Sinking to the ground, he rocked back and forth, his head stuck tightly between his legs. He stayed like that for what seemed like hours.

Antonio stumbled to his feet, still clutching his chest in pain. He stopped and his eyes became wide in alarm.

"I smell smoke." He said, looking at Francis, fear and confusion in his eyes.

Gilbert leapt up and suddenly began pacing back and forth. "Smoke, smoke, like a fire. There's smoke, there's a fire, someone started a fire, there's a fire, there's smoke, someone can smell smoke." He stopped abruptly when several screams could be heard from downstairs, and then a guy yelling, 'Fire!'

Gilbert turned back to the door and began trying to pull it open again, muttering to himself. "Smoke, fire, there's a fire..."

Pictures flashed through his mind and he had no idea how much time was passing anymore. The next thing he saw was Francis' face. "Gilbert!" Francis shook his friend's shoulders, hoping to snap him out of the trance. "Listen to me! There's a window in the back, and we can jump from it into the trees. We'll climb down, okay?"

Gilbert screamed in terror as his friend's face transformed with fangs, and a sickening grin. His tongue dripped with blood, his blood. He ripped himself from Francis' arms and ran toward the window.

He ran right through the glass. He curled in on himself, escaping the fangs and blood.

He landed on the ground, feeling no pain. He rolled over and watched the sky burn.

The next thing Gilbert could remember was throwing up. He had no idea how much time passed since he watched the barn burning to him retching, or why he was in the middle of the woods now. After he felt like he had emptied his stomach, he collapsed on the ground, his eyes staring blankly at the trees in front of him. He was pale and covered in sweat. He could hear wailing in the background and he realized it was the fire truck coming to put out the fire.

"Shit, we have to get him to a hospital." Antonio's voice sounded disoriented and far away. He felt Antonio gently pet his hair back from his face. It felt soothing.

Gilbert felt himself slipping back and forth in consciousness, as he watched Francis pace forth in frustration. A fourth kid was standing absolutely still, watching Gilbert with wide eyes.

"My keys were in that room." Francis snapped. "How the hell are we going to get him to a hospital?"

Antonio checked his cell phone and saw he didn't have a signal. He threw the phone aside and ran a hand through his hair.

The kid standing by himself finally spoke up. He had curly black hair that he shook out of his face. "Did he have too much to drink, or something? Because if we get caught—"

Francis and Antonio both told the kid to go to hell, causing him to snap his mouth shut rather quickly.

"What are you even doing here in the first place?" Francis asked accusingly. "Aren't you the principal's son?"

Gilbert connected a name with the face. Nathan Bolden. Mrs. Bolden's son. He was in the same grade as them.

He was nearly unconscious when he managed to whisper out a few words. "Ivan…"

Antonio whipped his head around and looked at Gilbert. "What?"

"Ivan…Ivan locked the door." He whispered pitifully, fear in his eyes. In his mind, he saw Ivan in the locker room over and over again.

"Holy shit. Holy shit, you're fucking crazy."

"Try me."

He passed out, just as a police officer walked through the brush, spotting the four of them.

Later that week, Gilbert's drug test came back positive for Phencyclidine. The doctor's said that he had ingested it orally, suggesting that someone may have slipped it into a drink he'd had. Within minutes of taking the drug, he had hallucinated, and then jumped out of a window. Gilbert remained silent, shrugging when they asked who they think it might have been that did something like that. But he knew exactly who it was. In his mind's eye, he saw Ivan drop three amounts of powdered PCP into the drinks at the party. It was simply a miracle Francis or Antonio hadn't touched their drinks.

Gilbert considered himself lucky that he left the hospital with only a knee brace. He wondered how he wasn't dead.

He disclosed the information the doctor's told him from his parent's and told them that he had fallen while playing soccer with friends.

The barn had burned completely to the ground that night. It was all over the news the next day. Police suspected arson, though it could have simply been the generator overheating too close to the barn. About ten kids were caught, including Antonio, Francis, Gilbert, and Nathan, the principal's son. They were caught in the woods and escorted to the police station for questioning, except for Gilbert who was sent to the hospital.

They were going to be charged with underage drinking, and/or being in the presence of underage drinking. Francis told Gilbert later on that Mrs. Bolden had bribed the police out of questioning the four of them. How she did it, he didn't know, but he said that since her son had been involved, she was afraid for her reputation being ruined. And because they had been with him when he was caught, she feared they would give the police his name.

It was a secret he knew about the principal. That she pulled strings to get her way, and used bribery to keep her record looking clean.

Within the next week, she had made up an excuse related to a bomb threat, and transferred Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Francis Bonnefoy to different schools. The final thing the principal had said to Gilbert as he walked out of the office was, "We just simply can't let people find out about this."

When Gilbert finished speaking, Matthew was beside himself in shock. There was no way…there was no way that Ivan would have done something like this. He couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"Matt…" Gilbert's voice sounded desperate. "Please say something."

Matthew opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn't bring himself to look at Gilbert as he stood up. "What am I supposed to say?"

"Anything. Just please…"

Matthew's hands fidgeted. "I…I don't know. I have to think about this."

He walked away, leaving Gilbert, not wanting to turn back, not wanting to believe anything he had just heard.