When senior students at Lincoln High receive the same deadly text message, it falls upon Helena Gallagher and an unlikely companion to solve the mystery and catch the killer.
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High school student, Helena Gallagher is a murder fanatic. A devoted...
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Mom bursts through the Wilkinson's front door, a hot rod up her ass. A mother on a mission. She's clocks Shaun and I sat on the leather sofa and immediately runs to us, breathing for quite possibly the first time since being contacted by Detective Saunders.
"My babies!"
She wraps us up in a hug and rocks us back and forth, repeatedly thanking God for keeping us safe. For offering us a different fate to the one Chad was given.
"Are you hurt?" she asks, pulling back an inch.
She briefly captures Elliot's chin and angles his face, checking for any visible injuries. Then–repeating the action on Jasmine–she breaks down.
"I thought-oh God, I thought..."
"Mom," whispers Shaun, pulling her to his chest. "We're okay. We're safe."
Elliot's hand reaches for mine, his face a picture of shock. No doubt a combination of seeing a dead body and receiving concern from Mom. He's a stranger to parental love. And it shows. It shines through him in fragmented lights. Like a broken lamp.
"Jasmine?" Interrupts Phil–her father.
His arrival sees her jumping up, keen to embrace him.
"We'll need statements from all four of you," informs Detective Saunders, approaching our small group.
Condemned to a tiny section in the Wilkinson's living room sees us with nothing to do but helplessly wait as the professionals assess the scene upstairs. Not that we're holding out much hope. Chad's as dead as the day is long. Was long before we got to him.
"An adult will need to be present," he continues, seemingly concerned, "Is there someone we can call for you, Elliot?"
Without warning, Elliot hangs his head and releases a sob, the reality of the situation hitting him square in the face. No one is here for him. Aunt Sarah, unreachable. Or unbothered.
"No. There's no one."
I freeze, incapable of moving. Of helping. How the hell am I supposed to tell him that his family's abandonment is okay when it's anything but? It's unacceptable. Cruel.
"I'm here for him," insists Mom, stepping up.
Still, Elliot's head refuses to lift. He's spiralling into a pit of despair and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it.
"Hey," soothes Shaun, sliding off of the sofa to crouch in front of him. "I know what it's like to be thrown out like last week's trash by flesh and blood. I know what it's like to have a biological Mom and Dad who don't care."
I stop breathing, listening to Shaun's revelation. His honesty.
"I also know that my sister really likes you and because of that, I really like you. And this woman right here." He points to Mom. "My mother–my real mother–she's going to make sure you're okay tonight. You're angry. I get it. I am too." He pauses, embodying frustration. "How dare our parents have us and bail? How dare they leave us to fend for ourselves? But, ya know what? They're the fuck-ups. Not us. And you're not alone. You're never alone."
