The house is unusually quiet.
Warm evening sunlight filters through the windows.
BROOKE walks into the living room, carrying her bag.
She looks tired.
She drops the bag onto the couch.
Her phone buzzes.
She looks at the screen.
A message catches her attention.
Her expression suddenly changes.
She reads it again.
Her eyes widen.
She slowly lowers the phone.
Larry bought a new car?
She stares toward the window.
Her jaw tightens.
She looks angry.
She walks toward the front door.
Larry’s brand-new car sits proudly in the driveway.
It is spotless.
The polished surface reflects the fading sunlight.
Brooke steps outside.
She stops when she sees it.
Her anger grows.
She walks around the car slowly.
She touches the hood.
Her expression becomes colder.
So this is what he bought…
She looks toward the house.
Nobody is watching.
Brooke takes a deep breath.
She tries to control herself.
But the anger wins.
She grabs a heavy object lying nearby.
She looks at the car.
Then at the object in her hand.
For a moment, she hesitates.
Her breathing becomes heavier.
You really think you can do whatever you want?
She raises the object.
It hits the car.
Brooke freezes.
She looks at the damage.
Her anger returns.
She strikes the car again.
A window cracks.
Brooke steps back.
She looks around nervously.
Then she continues.
Another hit.
Another crack.
The once-perfect car is quickly covered with damage.
Brooke’s breathing becomes shaky.
She finally drops the object.
Silence.
She stares at what she has done.
For a moment, guilt appears on her face.
Then she turns away.
She walks back inside.
Brooke sits on the couch.
She tries to act normal.
Her hands are trembling slightly.
She picks up her phone.
She scrolls through it without really looking.
A car door slams outside.
Brooke freezes.
Larry has arrived.
She slowly looks toward the front door.
The door opens.
LARRY walks inside.
He looks relaxed.
He carries his keys in one hand.
He smiles faintly.
Brooke?
Brooke doesn’t answer.
Larry walks farther into the house.
You home?
Brooke finally looks at him.
Yeah.
Larry nods.
He puts his keys on the table.
I’m going to check something outside.
Brooke’s eyes widen.
She quickly looks down.
Larry walks toward the door.
Brooke watches him.
The door closes behind him.
A few seconds pass.
Brooke closes her eyes.
Larry rushes back toward the house.
His face is filled with disbelief.
Brooke!
She looks up.
What?
Larry stares at her.
Did you see my car?
Brooke remains silent.
Larry walks closer.
Someone destroyed it.
Brooke looks away.
Larry’s expression becomes more serious.
The windows are cracked.
The doors are damaged.
The hood is covered in marks.
He shakes his head.
Who would do something like this?
Brooke says nothing.
Larry studies her face.
Something about her silence bothers him.
Brooke, did you see anyone outside?
She slowly shakes her head.
No.
Larry watches her carefully.
You’re sure?
Brooke doesn’t look at him.
I said no.
Larry takes a step back.
He looks confused.
Larry walks back outside.
Brooke remains inside, watching through the window.
Larry stands beside his damaged car.
He runs his hand over the broken window.
His face shows anger and disappointment.
He looks around the driveway.
Nothing.
No witnesses.
No explanation.
He turns toward the house.
Through the window, he sees Brooke.
She quickly moves away.
Larry notices.
His eyes narrow.
Brooke stands near the kitchen.
Larry enters.
He closes the door slowly.
The room becomes tense.
Larry looks directly at Brooke.
I need to ask you something.
Brooke keeps her back toward him.
What?
Larry takes a breath.
Who broke my car?
Brooke freezes.
Her fingers tighten around the edge of the counter.
She says nothing.
Larry waits.
Brooke.
Still nothing.
He walks closer.
Did you see somebody outside?
Brooke looks down.
No.
Larry studies her face.
Then why are you acting like this?
Brooke finally turns around.
Her face is emotionless.
Like what?
Like you know something.
Brooke looks away.
Larry becomes frustrated.
That’s a brand-new car.
He points toward the driveway.
Someone deliberately destroyed it.
Brooke remains silent.
Larry’s voice becomes quieter.
I just want to know who did it.
Brooke looks at him.
For a second, their eyes meet.
She almost speaks.
But she stops.
Larry waits for an answer.
Nothing comes.
Brooke?
She turns her face away.
Larry realizes he isn’t going to get an answer.
Brooke sits on the edge of her bed.
The room is dark except for a small lamp.
She stares at her hands.
Her anger has faded.
Now there is uncertainty.
She hears Larry moving downstairs.
His footsteps echo through the hallway.
Brooke looks toward the door.
She remembers the moment she smashed the car.
Her face tightens.
Why did I do that?
She lowers her head.
Her phone buzzes.
She ignores it.
Another buzz.
She finally checks it.
A message from Larry appears.
She reads it.
Her expression changes.
“I’m going to find out who did this.”
Brooke slowly locks the phone.
She stares into the darkness.
Larry stands alone.
He pours himself a glass of water.
His mind is clearly racing.
He looks toward the hallway.
Then toward Brooke’s bedroom.
He remembers her reaction.
Her silence.
Her nervous expression.
Larry slowly shakes his head.
It couldn’t be Brooke.
He pauses.
His expression changes.
Could it?
He sets the glass down.
Brooke lies on her bed.
Her eyes remain open.
She cannot sleep.
She hears Larry’s footsteps approaching.
They stop outside her door.
Brooke holds her breath.
She doesn’t move.
Brooke?
Silence.
Can we talk?
Brooke closes her eyes.
She wants to answer.
But she can’t.
Larry waits outside.
I just want the truth.
Brooke’s eyes fill with emotion.
Still, she remains silent.
After a long moment, Larry walks away.
His footsteps slowly disappear.
Brooke opens her eyes.
A tear rolls down her cheek.
Larry sits alone on the couch.
The house is silent again.
He looks through the window at his damaged car.
His expression is troubled.
He picks up his phone.
He considers calling someone.
Then he stops.
He looks toward the hallway.
Someone knows what happened.
He pauses.
And I’m going to find out.
Brooke sits up in bed.
She hears Larry’s voice faintly from downstairs.
She knows the truth.
She knows what she did.
But she isn’t ready to admit it.
She looks toward the window.
The damaged car is visible in the distance.
Brooke whispers to herself.
I’m sorry.
She quickly wipes away her tears.
The room falls silent.
Outside, Larry’s damaged car sits beneath the streetlight.
The mystery remains unanswered.
But Larry is already determined to uncover the truth.
And Brooke knows that sooner or later, her silence may not be enough to protect her.