Amanda's POV:
I run back down the path to my house, drenched by the sudden rainstorm. I slam the front door and race upstairs to my now empty room. I fall to the floor and allow my sorrow to consume me. I allow my tears to fall freely without bothering to wipe them away, knowing more will come. I don't know how long I was there on the cold, hardwood floor, listening to the rain, listening to my low sobs reverberating off the walls of my bedroom, but nothing mattered in this time and space. How could Bryan have done this to me, to my mom, my dad? I cringe at the thought of my dad. He never hurt anyone in his life. How could Bryan kill someone at such a young age? How could he trick me into caring for him? What sick game was he playing with my head and my heart? I thought he cared for me. A
