Ethan and Angela had been best friends for years. No matter what happened, they always stayed close. Angela lived with just her dad. From the outside, everything looked normal. But inside, things were often tense and unpredictable. She never talked about it, not fully. That night, everything got worse. Voices echoed through the house. Doors slammed. Something shattered. Angela stayed in her room as long as she could, sitting still, trying not to make a sound. But it didn’t stop. At some point, she couldn’t stay anymore. She left. The night air felt cold against her skin as she walked, her steps uneven. She didn’t bring anything with her. She didn’t think about where she was going until she got there. Ethan’s house. She stood on his doorstep, shaking, her clothes marked and her face pale. There were signs of what had happened, but she barely seemed to notice. Her hand hovered near the door before she finally knocked. A few seconds passed. The door opened. Ethan froze when he saw her. “Angela…?” She didn’t answer right away. Her voice, when it came, was barely there. “I didn’t know where else to go.”