With her head leaned back on a folded hand towel, Casey soaks in the warm water as her closed eyes face the ceiling. Headphones are buried into her ear as she listens to one of the many playlists Riley had made her over the past few weeks, the cord leading to her phone which sets next to her arm on the side of the bathtub. The tub is massive and the bathroom itself is the size of what most people would consider to be a bedroom. The curtain hanging from hooks on the rod above her is pulled all the way to the side, the open space giving her a more relaxed atmosphere. On the large counter, a tall burgundy candle sits next to the sink as it flickers through the already-dimmed lighting. She props her feet up near the faucet, which still runs with hot water, as she crosses her legs and slightly turns her head.

Earlier she couldn't manage to get a decent second of sleep, but in this moment it's as if she can't avoid it. Every single time she closed her eyes, awful thoughts would flood her mind and keep her awake. Eventually she gave up and figured she might as well keep busy to distract herself. Her left arm hangs from the side of the tub, falling limp as she begins to doze off.

The bathroom door handle turns slightly as it pushes open. A figure steps inside, its reflection distorted through the fogged mirror, and the person closes the door behind them. Slowly, they walk forward to approach Casey. Unaware, she tilts her head further back as she continues to listen to her music.

Water suddenly splashes and she grabs onto the side of the tub, her eyes opening wide.

Laughing, a fully nude Riley soaks into the water next to her feet. Still startled, she glares at him as he squeezes a bottle of bubble fluid next to the running faucet.

Taking a deep breath, she rips out her headphones and tosses them over the side of the tub. "Are you crazy? You scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry." He says, still squeezing the bottle. After emptying nearly one third of the container, and probably using far too much, he sets the bottle on the side of the tub. He smiles innocently at Casey as bubbles begin to emerge near his chest. He grabs one of her feet with both hands and begins to vigorously massage the sole of her foot with his thumbs. "Forgive me?"

The bubbles quickly spread through the water's surface and she sits up, slowly pulling her head in closer to Riley's as if going in for a kiss.

He plucks his lips and leans in when she scoops up a pile of bubbles in her right hand and lightly smacks it against his cheek, smearing them across his face. She laughs, immediately pulling herself back to her side of the tub.

"Oh, you are so dead!" He laughs, bubbles popping from his lips as he talks, and he splashes water at her before lunging forward, grabbing her and embracing her tightly.

They knock her phone to the floor and it lands on her tangled headphones, just as it begins to buzz from a receiving call. Morgan's picture flashes on the screen.

From down the hall, Peyton can hear splashing and Casey screaming playfully. She reaches over to grab her cell phone, increasing the volume of the music she has playing from the portable speaker that sits on her dresser. She continues to draw in the sketchbook she has propped up on her pillow.

Casey, hair still damp from the bath, looks significantly more rested despite the fact that she still has yet to get any shuteye. Sighing, she quickly shuffles through a drawer cluttered with various cooking utensils. Some are still unused, brand new in their original packaging. "I know we have one. Somewhere..."

A bottle of red wine, chilled and dripping from condensation, sits on the marble countertop that covers the island centered in the middle of the kitchen.

Riley walks through the two doors of the large pantry, leaving them open as he approaches the counter next to her. His hair, normally slicked up, is a flat wavy mess. "Yeah, not in here either. Babe, I can drop by the gas station down the street and grab one."

"You don't mind?" She smiles at him as he leans in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

As if that alone didn't answer her question, he pulls back and shoots her a wink. "Not at all."

He turns around to head to the living room. As he grabs his car keys from the table near the front door, she opens a cabinet above the drawer and peeks through the rows of glasses neatly aligned inside. She had a feeling the wine opener wouldn't be in there but, considering half of the time when her mother is actually home she's intoxicated, she figures it was worth a shot.

"I'll be back." He says as he enters the kitchen from the den, spinning the keys on his index finger as he approaches her for another kiss. He pulls back and just from the look in his eyes she can tell that his tone is about to be serious. "Lock the door."

"Of course." She nods as the two walk over to the patio door that opens to the side of the house, an easy access to get to the driveway that leads past it all the way to their garage. A few feet to their right, running against the back wall of the kitchen, is another set of double doors that leads to their deck overlooking their back yard. The second he walks outside she closes the door and twists the lock.

Casey turns around, eyeing the cabinets around her as she walks back to the island. Her eyes settle on the bottle of wine, a cabernet sauvignon her father picked up on one of his many business trips to France. She reaches over to grab the bottle and lifts it up, her finger slightly grazing across the fancy emblem imprinted on the label, when—

A sudden knock comes from the side door, causing her to jump and almost drop the bottle to the floor. She takes a deep breath, regaining control of herself, as she sets it back on the counter.

"What did you forget this time?" She laughs, thinking of how often Riley has walked to his car just to realize he left his wallet or keys behind, and turns around to reapproach the door. She grabs the handle, pulling the door open to find nobody standing on the other side. The light above the door is lit, lighting up not only the driveway but the grass past it as well. "Riley?"

She closes the door to a slight crack, peeking hesitantly one last time around the driveway before pushing it shut. She twists the lock and looks through the drapes covering the window.

Shaking her head, she turns around to walk back to the island when she hears another knock, this time coming from the double doors leading to the backyard. She feels her blood run cold, sending shivers through her body, as she slowly turns to face the doors.

"Not cute, Riley!" She says nervously, hoping that it's him just messing with her like he was earlier when he scared her by jumping into the tub. She steps toward the doors and, instead of opening it this time, she lifts the curtains slightly with her finger to peek through the window.

Nothing.

Taking a deep sigh, not of relief but from holding her breath, she quickly turns to walk out of the kitchen and through an archway leading to the den. She approaches one of the many large windows stretching across the far wall on the front side of the house, looking through it just in time to see the taillights of Riley's car as he pulls out of her driveway and onto the street.

It must have been him. It had to.

She hears music coming from upstairs and turns her head to look up at the railing of the second floor. Through the cracked door, she can see the light is on in Peyton's bedroom.

Knocking, much louder than before, echoes from the kitchen as somebody pounds their fist heavily against the window on one of the doors.

Slowly, she steps toward the archway to see the doors to the backyard rattle against the doorframe as somebody knocks on it again. A shadow can be seen through the thin curtain, although the tall figure is unrecognizable. Whoever it is stands in the middle of the two doors as they reach down and tug at the handles.

She takes a few steps forward and stops a couple of feet before the entrance to the kitchen, halting in front of the fireplace.

"Nope." She shakes her head, backing up. "Fuck that."

Casey turns around and grabs the iron poker from the fireplace's tool rack. She quickly turns to the staircase and immediately bolts up the winding stairs to the second floor of the house.

Peyton lays on her bed jamming out to the music still playing. She has several sheets of drawing paper laid out on her bed, each poorly drawn illustration worse than the one before it.

Drawing in her sketchbook, she sighs at the picture she was working on and rips it from the book. She crumbles it up into a ball, tossing it in the corner of the room just as Casey comes barging in through the bedroom door.

"Casey?" She looks at her older sister like she's insane, her glare quickly focusing on the fireplace poker held tightly in Casey's grip. "What the—"

"We need to leave!" Casey yells, signaling her out of the room with a swing of her free hand. "Now!"

Peyton sits up in her bed, beyond confused. "What's going on?!"

"No time to explain. Grab your phone. Come on!"

Without further questions, she snatches her phone before jumping up from the bed and quickly steps out into the hallway. She can tell by Casey's distraught voice that something is terribly wrong. She looks over the railing onto the first floor as Casey leads her to the staircase.

"We're going to the neighbors." Casey says as they descend the stairs. "Call the police."

"Casey, you're freaking me out!"

"Damnit Peyton, just do what I say!"

Peyton unlocks her phone and pulls up the dial pad as they reach the front door. She reaches for the doorknob but Casey steps in front of her.

"Stay behind me." Casey says, raising the poker as she slowly reaches for the handle of the door. She twists the small lock on the handle and pulls the door open.

Both girls scream, Casey almost swinging the rod like a baseball bat at the person standing in front of them when she stops herself.

Morgan, arms raised and eyes widened, peers back at them. "Whoa, hey! It's just me!"

Lowering the weapon to her side, Casey makes sure to still have her grip tightened on the handle just in case. "Morgan, what are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask if you've seen Taylor. I went to the hospital but she wasn't there. Tried to call you guys earlier but nobody answered..."

"They released her early. She went to stay with Marc for the night." She cocks an eyebrow, finding his timing oddly coincidental. "Was that you knocking on the back door?"

"No, but there are some kids running around out here." Morgan glances at the street and Casey steps out onto the porch to get a better view, following his stare to a group of reckless teenagers running through the neighbor's yard to the sidewalk. They look to be a few years younger than them, probably freshman. She takes a deep breath as he turns back to face her. "They were probably just fucking with you."

Peyton lowers her phone from her ear, looking at Casey with an are-you-serious look. Luckily the call had yet to dial out. A slight creak comes from the stairs behind her and, still alarmed by her sister's sudden outburst, quickly turns around to see nothing out of the ordinary.

"Sorry." Casey says to both of them, more to Morgan however being that she was nearly on the verge of impaling him. "I guess I'm just on high alert."

"I don't blame you." He says calmly. "With everything going on and all."

"Yeah." Casey walks back into the house, propping the poker up against the wall next to the doorframe.

Glaring at Morgan, Peyton clears her throat dramatically. "I'm going back to my room. Let me know when Riley is back."

She made sure to put a heavy emphasis on Riley's name, as if to remind Morgan that Casey is his ex-girlfriend. Ever since the break up, even before really, Peyton never did like Morgan or the way he treated her sister while the two of them were dating.

Casey nods and watches as Peyton dramatically spins around to walk up the staircase, stomping as she heads back to her room.

"If you'd like I can stay." She turns to see Morgan smiling at her. He continues. "Until Riley gets back."

"That's okay. Thank you though." She smiles back. "If I hear from Taylor, I'll let her know that you were looking for her."

"Thanks." Still smiling, more out of anxiety than kindness, he backs away from the door. "Have a good night, Case."

Nodding, she grabs onto the side of the door. "You too, Morgan."

She watches Morgan for a brief moment as he turns to walk to his Mustang pulled up into the front of the drive. As he opens the driver's door to his car, his phone beeps and he digs it out from his pocket to see a text from Paige reading a single word. 'Sorry'.

Casey slams the door shut, making sure to twist both the bottom and top lock. Pulling her hair back behind her shoulders with both hands, she glances back up at Peyton's now-closed bedroom door and she walks past the railing of the staircase and through the archway into the kitchen.

As she steps through the entrance, she's greeted by a sudden cold breeze blowing against her skin. Her eyes widen as she comes to a halt, her body starting to tremble as she finds herself staring forward... At the driveway.

The patio door is now wide open.

♫ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ / ᴍᴀᴅɪʟʏɴ ʙᴀɪʟᴇʏ ♫