Ten years earlier:

The car halted, and everything felt like we were in a movie, and someone had pressed pause.

We sat inside the car in utter and deadly silence. We didn't move a limb, and it seemed like we had forgotten how to breathe.

My brain stuttered as my thoughts tried to catch up with what just happened—what we just did. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that after reopening them, I would find myself in a completely different place. A place where I was safe and secure and not standing at the threshold of an ordeal that was going to turn my life upside down.

Opening my eyes, I almost laughed at how foolish I was. Nobody could go back in time and stop an imminent disaster from taking place. And I knew that sitting idly and waiting for a miracle to happen wasn't going to solve anything.

I slowly moved my hands and struggled with unbuckling my seatbelt as the tremors that had taken control of my body made my hands feel like Jell-O.

Reaching for the car handle, I glanced at Connor, whose dark eyes were already fixed on me, and inside them was the most haunting look I had ever seen.

I shook my head in a useless attempt to clear my thoughts and pushed the door open. Then I got out and started dawdling into the unmerciful darkness of the night.

A few lightning poles managed to provide a dim light in the street, but not enough to allow me to see what was in front of me for a long distance. And yet I still saw it...

Behind the car, by a few feet, a motionless thing was lying on the ground in the middle of the road. However, even from afar, I could tell that it was never just a thing, but my mind refused to surrender to that other horrifying thought.

I didn't know how I managed to drag my feet any further or move my body at all, for that matter. But by taking a few slow, sluggish steps forward, I finally reached him...

My breathing hitched as my knees grew weak, and I slumped to the cold ground. I wanted to yell for Connor and Aiden... to scream, but everything got stuck in my throat, refusing to get out. I felt numb to the core; the only thing I could feel was the heat from the silent tears flowing like a river down my cheeks.

His body was utterly still, lying on the ground in an awkward position in a pool of his own blood. His face was stained with that same ghoulish scarlet liquid that it was almost impossible to determine his features. And his body... his body was too small.

We ran over a child...

I felt a shadow lingering over me, and I didn't have to look to know that it belonged to Connor. Aiden was too much of a coward for his feet to lead him this far.

"W—What have we done?" Connor said in a whisper.

I held myself back from screaming at him, shaking him by the shoulder, and telling him that his recklessness did this. Instead, I swallowed hard and tried to find my voice before I said, "We have to call the police."

His eyes grew even wider, and he looked at me with shock written all over his face as if I had said something that was beyond the bounds of logic. "Are you crazy?" he snapped.

Anger stirred up in my system as I rose to my feet and closed the gap between us. "So you suggest we just leave him here and run away?" I was gritting my teeth as I grabbed him by the collar of his coat. "Look at him, Connor. He's a child!"

"I have already looked at him, Erin, and that's why I know that calling the cops won't do him any good. He's dead." His voice broke at the last part, and fresh tears started rolling down his cheeks. "If we report this, we will be digging our own graves, Erin; our lives will be ruined forever. And I'm not going to jail."

Deep down, I knew that a cursory glance was enough to know that the kid was already dead. His lips were blue, and his eyes dull. He was as lifeless as a fall leaf that had fallen from a tree. Yet, I couldn't help but feel disgusted with Connor's words. I wanted to punch him in the face and tell him that we deserved far worse than jail for being the reason this poor boy's life was cut too short.

But, out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Aiden was approaching us with his eyes as wide as they could be, and he looked like he was about to scream.

I quickly hurried toward him and put my hand over his mouth before he could make any sound that would tear into the night and alert anybody to us and our horrendous act.

This simple action was enough to make me realize that my survival and self-preservation instincts had already outweighed every other feeling—including guilt.

My hands trembled as I tried to come to terms with what my mind was screaming at me to do. I tightened my grip on Aiden, who had gone limp in my hands, and looked at Connor, who was watching my every action closely. When our eyes met, I knew that he understood everything I didn't say out loud, and an unspoken agreement was formed between us.

I found his hands helping me drag Aiden back into the car, and he quickly took his place behind the wheel with me next to him in the passenger's seat. And with one last look we shared, he turned the engine on and drove away...

We drove far into the woods to execute the plan Connor and I agreed on. We decided it would be best to burn the car to erase any evidence or traces we had left inside.

Connor and I took care of everything as Aiden was still in shock and could barely move. However, no objections were raised from his side at all. I guessed that prison wasn't an option on his table either; he just preferred to leave all the dirty work for the two of us.

After we made sure that we had gotten rid of everything that could tie us to the incident, we went to Connor's house. We decided that staying at Connor's was our best option for two reasons. One: Connor's dad was going to find us there in the morning, and then we would convince him that we had been there all night, which could later work as our alibi. Two: since he was on patrol the whole night, there was a great chance he would have found out about the accident. And we needed to know everything the police found at the scene and whether they already had any suspects.

And when we heard the screeching of tires outside the house, we pretended we were deeply asleep in the living room. Even though we couldn't sleep a wink all night. And when Connor's dad opened the door, we acted as if we had just woken up.

Signs of surprise were written all over Mr. Johnson's face when his eyes fell on us, and I noticed that he looked exhausted.

"Merry Christmas, boys. Last night's party must've been very bustling for you to look this tired," he said, looking straight at Connor, who looked nervous.

"The party got canceled, so we decided to spend the night here together instead," Connor said, rubbing his eyes to put on a more realistic show. "Merry Christmas, Dad."

Aiden and I wished him a merry Christmas too, and then I decided to steer the conversation in the direction we wanted. "Mr. Johnson, you look tired. Was it a rough night at the precinct?"

With a long sigh, he made his way to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of orange juice, and poured himself a cup. The three of us were watching his every move while holding our breaths.

"I don't want to depress you on a day like this, but there was a horrible accident the other night," he said, taking a sip from his cup. Then he fixed his gaze on us before he continued. "A little kid no older than ten was hit by a car around midnight, and the despicable bastard didn't even bother to stop and call for help."

"I—Is he okay?" I asked in a cautious tone and was mentally praying that he was still alive by some miracle.

Mr. Johnson let out another sigh before he answered. "Frankly, he's still alive, but he's currently in a coma that doctors have no idea if he will wake up from or not."

I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice on me, and there was a stinging pain in my heart. The boy was still alive, and if we hadn't chickened out and left him lying helplessly on that road, maybe he would have been okay now.

"Right..." said Mr. Johnson, bringing my thoughts to an abrupt stop. "The one who found the boy and reported the accident is apparently a schoolmate of yours. His name is Ethan Walsh. Do you guys know him?"

The three of us shared wary looks, and I knew that just like me, they too were bombarded by fear as if we were children again, shaking, terrified...

The constricted feelings grew as if I were strangled by just the air around me. And countless questions starting with what if were running through my mind.

Connor cleared his throat and offered a vague reply. "Y—Yes, he's in the same class as us, but he doesn't have a lot of friends."

"That's unfortunate. Why don't the three of you try to befriend him? The poor kid will need support after the terrible night he had," Mr. Johnson said, letting out a yawn. "Alright, I'll let you be and go upstairs to try and get some sleep. It was a long shift. Merry Christmas again, boys."

"Umm, Mr. Johnson..." I called, stopping him in his tracks. I swallowed hard before I asked the million-dollar question. "Did you find him? I mean, the guy who was driving the car."

He took a few moments before he answered. "Not yet, but we'll find him no matter what. I promise you that." And with that, he was completely out of sight.

Silence reigned for a while until we made sure that Connor's father had entered his room and could no longer hear anything we said.

Connor was the first to break the lingering silence. "Maybe my dad is right."

"What do you mean?" I asked, giving him a bewildered look.

"We need to get close to Ethan. Maybe he saw something, and we need to figure out what he knows."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" I scoffed. "Should we knock on his door and start interrogating him?"

Connor shot me a heated glare. "We wait until winter break is over, and we go back to school. And in the meantime, all we can do is wait and see how things will turn out..."