this chapter is broken up into different parts, but the beginning of this chapter takes place a little after the end of the last one :-)

"This is a game. All of this is for you. You're not investigating anything. You're a fucking rat in a maze." - George Noyce, Shutter Island 

"This is the police!" a familiar voice called, their bangs against the door ringing in the entire apartment, "Open up!"

All of our heads whipped towards the door, and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. That - the police, their bangs a against their door, a silent threat - was all my fault. I had made the call that would ultimately pick Grant's fate. I did that, and I felt bile slowly rise up my throat.

I had quickly and quietly crawled back into the bathroom, shaking fingers barely managing to click the call button on Griffin's phone. I had been the one to whisper the situation to the police - to tell them that Grant Cutkosky was confessing to the murder of his mother. I had been the one to call the police here, and now I was watching as Grant got pulled off the chair he was sitting in, his wrists clipped into a pair of handcuffs.

I sat on the floor outside of the bathroom, eyes wide and filled with tears as the officer - Ruslan Gudkova - gently pushed Grant down to the floor to lock up his handcuffs. Griffin was off the couch in seconds, eyes red and filled to the brim with tears, face filled with horror. He slowly turned to me, his eyes going wide when he saw the phone in my hand.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, even though I wasn't sure why. Griffin had been the one to give me the phone to call, but it was clear to see that he didn't want it to have to come to that.

Ruslan pulled Grant up his shoulders, two cops standing by his sides. They began to read him off his rights and I shot up suddenly, stumbling over to Grant. His head was bent, eyes closed as he listened to what the officers had to say. Griffin was saying something - it might've been pleas to stop, but no one was listening to him. His voice was drowned out by all of the other noise - the officers' voices, the sounds of our neighbors opening their doors to see what was happening.

"Jesus Christ, stop!" Griffin snapped finally, eyes burning in fury. His face was bright red, the veins in his neck pulsing, "Y-you can't do this. He's my brother!"

Ruslan looked up, eyes locking in Griffin's. His face was filled with sympathy, "Griffin, I'm gonna need you to stop this, okay? Cameron, take them - " Ruslan pointed to me and then Griffin, "outside and get their statements."

The officer took a step forward and Griffin jerked back, stumbling a few steps backwards. I walked over to him, my legs shaking under me, unsteady steps slowly leading me towards Griffin. Grant still had his head down and Ruslan was trying to pull him up gently, but he wouldn't budge. Grant's jaw was locked and I feared for whatever was going on in his mind.

The officer - Cameron - made a reach for me, fingers gently brushing the side of my arm, "I'm gonna have to take you two outside."

"No," Griffin growled out, fingers wrapping around my forearm and pulling me towards him, "I'm not fucking leaving Grant."

It was at that moment I finally understood Grant's words from earlier. When he told Griffin that he wouldn't be here soon.

Ruslan put his hand on Grant's shoulder and tried to pull him up, "Mr. Cutkosky, I'm going to need you to stand up."

Grant's eyes flew open, but, somewhere deep inside me, I knew I wasn't really looking at him.

Grant started flailing suddenly in Ruslan's arms, screams tearing through his throat. Grant looked like he was convulsing in the officer's arms; his whole body shook, arms bending at sick angles as he struggled to escape the handcuffs. His knees slammed into the wooden floor and Grant screamed again, head whipping back and forth, eyes rabid, mouth pulled back into a terrifying sneer.

Ruslan wrapped his arms around Grant's chair and the officer next to him took a step forward, but he didn't know where to grab. I watched in horror as Grant threw himself around, tears pooling in his eyes, face going bright red as he screamed in what could only be described as agony. He twisted his whole body, trying to escape Ruslan's grip. Grant threw himself backwards into Ruslan's and started screaming even louder than before.

"You need to stop!" Grant screamed desperately, tears dripping down his face slowly, "I'm not him! You have this all wrong!"

I watched in horror as Ruslan finally restrained a terrified-looking Grant. He caught my eye and I looked away quickly, blinking fast, only to have more tears cloud my vision. I coughed, my throat suddenly dry and burning at the same time. I felt a hand grab my arm and I whipped to the side, only to follow the hand up to Griffin's blue, tear-filled eyes. He squeezed my hand gently and pulled me to the side, around his screaming brother, and out the door.

Griffin cried as the officer led us out through the apartment complex, the eyes of our neighbor's burning into the back of our heads. I cried, too, choking on my sobs as the elevator dropped down each floor. I couldn't get the image of Grant thrashing and screaming out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes, his terror-filled face flashed behind my eyelids.

And then we got outside, and the officer was separating us for our statements. There was an ambulance that they pulled me over too, and Griffin went to follow me until the other officer pulled him back. I turned and caught Griffin's eyes, heart clenching as I did so. When I looked at him, I saw Griffin. I saw all the pain and confusion and anger that came with him.

I wondered if I would ever look at Grant and actually see him.

-

I spent that night at the police station, heart hammering in my chest the entire time. Griffin and I were taken into different rooms, and I knew that was some sort of psychological play. They would keep us separated - whether it was to just heighten my anxiety or to make sure our stories matched up I wasn't sure of. All I knew was that it made me feel even more terrified to be alone.

Eventually they let us sit in a room by ourselves. Griffin and I sat next to each other at a circular table, the same type of one I saw at with Ruslan when he told me to get as far from the case as possible. It was so weird to think of that - how just a few weeks ago I had been at the police station, being warned to stay away from a case that had only dragged me back to that same station. God, I couldn't imagine what would have happened if I took Ruslan's advice.

"Are - " I paused when Griffin looked up at me, blue eyes bloodshot and framed with dark circles. He blinked and, in a low voice, I slowly continued, " - are you okay?"

Griffin just stared at me, lips drawn back into a tight purse, "I'm great, Emmy. Fucking great."

Before I could say anything, the door to our room opened and Ruslan stepped in, a tired look on his face. I hadn't seen him since the apartment, where Grant had struggled to break free from his grip. The officer I had been with wouldn't tell me where Grant or Ruslan had gone, and that only drove me crazy. I didn't know if they took Grant to this same station, or where dragging him somewhere else entirely.

Ruslan shut the door quietly and stepped forward, pulling out a seat at the front of the table. None of us said anything for a few minutes, and I wasn't going to be the first one to break that silence. Griffin had his arms folded on the table, head resting against them, and I just stared at the wall, a million thoughts racing through my mind. Ruslan cleared his throat and I turned to look at him, his green eyes already locked on mine.

Griffin slowly rose his head, blinking in surprise when he saw Ruslan. For a few seconds I wondered if Griffin had truly fallen asleep and not noticed the officer's appearance (it had to be at least three, four in the morning), but I realized it wasn't surprise on his face. It was a mix of disgust and anger, a look that made my stomach twist painfully.

"We finally got a statement from - uh, from Grant," Ruslan said, and Griffin sat up straighter in his seat, entire body tensing up, "We're getting a warrant right now to search your father's house. If what Grant said is true, then we should find a case file on your dad and possibly even some incriminating evidence. Grant's word might not mean much now, but if we find evidence then it's whole other story."

Griffin just stared at him, jaw ticking lightly, "You mean a story where not only my brother murdered my mom, but my dad also helped him?"

"Griffin," Ruslan said slowly, eyes darting to me for help, but I didn't know what to say. What the hell was I supposed to say to Griffin to make this situation any better? "Don't think about it like that. We're gonna fix this entire situation. I promise."

Griffin lowered his head and sighed, complete and utter exhaustion written across his face. His eyes were practically closing on their own, and I wondered what was going through his mind. If I was feeling lost and confused and absolutely terrified, I couldn't even begin to imagine how Griffin was feeling. He had just heard his brother confess to murdering their mom, watch him get pulled out of his apartment, and was now hearing that the police were getting a search warrant for his dad's home.

Griffin looked up and clenched his fingers into fists, "I'm coming," he said, face filling with determination the second the words left his mouth, "I'm coming with you guys. He's my dad, I know when he won't be home. You need to take me." 

Ruslan looked ready to argue, but instead just sighed and nodded, "I'll talk to my captain about it. I can't promise you anything, Griffin. It's dangerous and completely out of protocol - "

"And Emmy is coming, too," Griffin added, cutting Ruslan off, his eyes locked on me. Griffin cocked his head to the side, "if she wants to."

I just nodded slowly, knowing, somewhere deep inside, that Griffin needed me there with him. Even if he wouldn't verbally tell me, I knew this was his own way of saying that he needed me to be there with him. And I would. As long as I was allowed, no one would be able to keep me from Griffin. Not now. 

Ruslan stood up and sighed again, standing behind his chair and gripping the back of it, long fingers squeezing the material, "No promises," he muttered, letting go off his chair and taking a few steps back, "If you go to the front, they'll discharge you for the night. Please be safe and stay together, yeah? We'll call you in the morning."

Ruslan gave us a small nod and turned, walking out the door. We sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of us quite ready to get up. The silence between us was deafening. In those few minutes, silence was even worse than hearing Grant screaming earlier. His screams drowned out all my thoughts, but the silence left me alone to drown in my thoughts.

"Emmy," Griffin said softly, voice so quiet I barely heard him, "I'm terrified."

Me too, Griffin.

-

The police picked us up from our apartment complex at eight in the morning.

Griffin had slept over at my apartment, only to be woken up at seven-thirty in the morning with a call from Ruslan, saying that he and a group of other policemen would be picking us up in a half-hour. Griffin and I had gotten ready in silence (he didn't change, but I understood that he couldn't go back in his apartment yet), and then spent the remaining time waiting outside.

And now we were parked out front of Griffin's childhood home.

We were in a car with one police officer - a quiet guy named Mike - while Ruslan and four other officers searched the house. Two other police cars sat on opposite ends of the street, stationed in an obvious way to make sure they would be able to see if Mr. Cutkosky came back home.

Griffin's fingers were interlaced with mine and we sat in silence, only sharing occasional glances. I could barely understand what was happening - in a matter of twenty-four hours Grant had been taken to a holding cell, the police had gotten Griffin and I's statement, and we were now sitting out-front of his house, waiting to see if the police found incriminating evidence. I felt like at any second someone was going to snap their fingers and I'd be pulled out of this sick, twisted dream.

Griffin kept his eyes locked on the seat in front of him, and I so, so badly wanted him to turn and just look at me. He was the only thing keeping me together in this moment, and I just wanted to talk to him. I wanted Griffin to say something - anything - to make this situation seem less terrifying.

But while I wanted him to just speak to me and make me less terrified, I knew nothing could ease his horror.

I turned, just in time to see Ruslan and the other officers walking out of the house. My heart plummeted when I didn't see anything, until the officer in the back held up a Zip-Lock bag filled with papers in it. Griffin must have noticed the same time as me because he dropped my hand, immediately pulling on the door, only to realize we had been locked in.

Mike clicked the button to unlock the door and turned before either of us could move a muscle, "Stay out of the house," he said, eyes locked on Griffin, words clearly directed towards him, "They won't let you see the evidence."

Griffin nodded and pulled on the door, all-but throwing himself out of the car. I quickly followed suit, Mike trailing behind me as I walked up the driveway. Ruslan took the bag from the officer and wrote something on it before handing it back to his partner. Griffin walked up to him, shoulders squared, jaw tense, and taped Ruslan on the shoulder. The officer turned to us, and I walked up, standing right next to Griffin, a silent promise that I was by his side.

"You found evidence."

Ruslan nodded, slowly repeating the words, "We found evidence," Griffin opened his mouth to say something, but Ruslan continued quickly, "The case file. Grant was right, there was one written on your dad. We got a few papers but we're not sure if we have the whole thing."

Griffin frowned, eyebrows pulling together, "The file was separated?"

Ruslan looked incredibly uncomfortable and, for what felt like the hundredth time, I was terrified for what I was about to hear. If whatever Ruslan was about to tell us made him look this uncomfortable and nervous, then I knew it was something that would chill me to the bone. And Griffin - God, I couldn't even imagine how he would feel. How he was feeling.

"Yes, it was separated. We, um - we were searching the house and a few pictures got knocked down off the wall. Before we could hang them back up, we saw something pushing against the back of them. The papers were stuffed in the picture frames - between the glass and the backing."

I felt my stomach do flip-flops, face turning pale white at what I was hearing. Mr. Cutkosky had hid a case file around the house, in the back of picture frames. Griffin had grown up looking at those pictures, not knowing that the truth about his dad was hidden securely behind them. I felt myself start to get sick and I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw tightly as I tried to force out images of a young Griffin accidentally dropping a picture, only to see the truth about his dad.

"What pictures were they behind?" Griffin asked, and I opened my eyes quickly, already knowing where he was going with this. I wanted to yell at him to stop - to not torture himself like this - but I couldn't, "What fucking pictures were they behind?"

Ruslan swallowed, "They, uh... They were in what appeared to be pictures of your mom, Grant, and you, Griffin."

I felt myself get actually sick at that sentence.

</ so again, I know you guys probably have a lot of questions but ALL WILL BE EXPLAINED :-) this was a pretty long chapter, so I hoped you guys enjoyed it!!! love you allll