At that, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes full of hurt and anger. "What's wrong?" He stood, turning to face me like a brick wall. "What's wrong? Everything is wrong, Elliot. I've been sitting in this house for a week waiting, just waiting. Waiting for the seconds, the minutes to count down until the end. I've got my dad to think about. I've got my sisters to think about. I've got everyone to think about before myself. So no. I'm not okay. And no, I don't want your help."
