Once Casey had regained her composure, and put on clothes, she made her way out into the living room. Aaron was still watching TV.

"How did you get in here?" she inquired, taking her seat on an arm of the couch. He held up a key.

"I've had one since your dad moved in," he explained. Casey nodded.

"So why are you here?" She was blunt, not wanting to put up with any crap Aaron might have to give her.

"My dad wants me to show you around the city. Or, at least, keep you company while your dad's at work."

"Well, I'm good," Casey assured him. "I don't need your company."

"Well, I'm sort of stuck here."

"Stuck?" He turned to look at her, wondering what that painful look in her eye had been.

"Not really stuck, but I'm not leaving until I understand you."

"What do you mean by that?" Fear built up in Casey, fearing that he'd do what he'd done that night. She made her way to the kitchen, searching for the knife drawer. She wouldn't let it happen again. He followed her in.

"Why you came here. What that look in your eye was." Casey continued searching. "What are you looking for?" Having found it, Casey shut the drawer quickly. She'd use it if she needed to.

"Nothing. So you want to know why I came?" He nodded. "I told you."

"Casey, you know I didn't buy that bull crap. Now, either your mom sent you here because you got hot and heavy with your stepbrother, or you've got something really bad on your plate." Casey walked back into the living room. Open space, a door if she needed to run.

"Maybe I'm just not who you remember," she suggested. Aaron scoffed.

"Casey, I haven't changed a bit, which means that you couldn't have either." he insisted, backing her into the couch, forcing her to sit. He started to place himself on top of her.

"Get off!" she shouted, pushing him away, making a break for the door. He didn't follow.

"That was too easy," he thought to himself as he made his way towards Casey's room. Casey, meanwhile, was running as quickly as she could. She felt that her guts would explode. However, when she looked back, Aaron wasn't coming after her. She understood. It was a setup. A way to get her out of the house so he could snoop. She jogged her way back to the house to find Aaron on her laptop.

"Get off my computer!" she shouted, a knife in hand. Terror struck Aaron as he saw Casey trembling before him.

"Casey, don't-"

"I told you to stay out of my business. Now get out!" she screamed. Aaron quickly made his way to the living room, followed by Casey and the knife.

"Casey, I know you're upset-"

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover it!" He sat on the couch, raising his hands in surrender. "How could you! I told you not to!"

"Casey, it wasn't your fault!" he shouted back. Casey's eyes widened, her body trembled uncontrollably. Aaron got up quickly, getting to Casey just as she was about to fall. Tears streamed down her face as she dropped the knife. "It's not your fault," he whispered gently into her ear. "It's not your fault." Almost everything was out in the open for Aaron. He understood why Casey's eyes were filled with sadness, but even as he watched Casey cry, he had to wonder, "What did Derek do?"

Aaron gently walked Casey to the couch, setting her down, making himself a headrest for her. She continued to sob, but more quietly now, every so often shaking.

"It's gonna be alright, Casey," he assured her, kissing the top of her head. "It's gonna be alright."