Lost in the Woods @under-the-mud - Tumblr Blog

Forgive me father, I am sick

Chapter twelve: I can feel myself pulling away.

Catholic!paige x rebellious!Azzi, catholic boarding school au

Warnings: aversion therapy, physical and psychological abuse, forced medication, psychosis, vomiting, panic attacks, hallucinations

A/n: Hi guys! I know this chapter is gonna be hard to get through and very upsetting but after this the worst is over!! Also this is unedited so ignore any mistakes! There’s one more chapter left in book one before book two starts! I love you all, thank you for the constant love and support! Lmk your thoughts! 🩷 Also…. If you wanna talk about book two there are some hints I might be willing to give away

Word count: 11k

Nika was pacing the floor of the communal area, her mind entirely consumed with getting back to Paige. She cornered the counselor who helped her weeks before in a quiet corner of the hallway.

"Take me back to Paige's room," Nika demanded under her breath, blocking his path. "Now."

The counselor went completely pale, looking around frantically to see if anyone was watching them. "I can't, Nika. She’s not in the isolation wing anymore. She got moved to a completely different part of the facility this morning. I'm not helping you anymore. It's too dangerous."

Nika didn't even blink. A cold, calculating smirk crossed her face as she leaned in closer. "That's fine. If you won't take me, I'll just go tell them about how you smuggled me into the isolation wing to see her. Let's see how fast you get fired and blacklisted from working anywhere ever again."

The counselor's jaw dropped, fear instantly overriding his hesitation. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," Nika whispered, her eyes dead serious.

Terrified of losing his job, the counselor swallowed hard and nodded. "Fine. Follow me. But you have two minutes."

He led Nika down a flight of concrete stairs into a lower unit, using his keycard to bypass the security on the doors. He pointed toward a small, dim room at the end of the hall. "That's her new room. Go. Quickly."

Nika hurried down the corridor and pushed the door open. The room was even smaller than the isolation cell, smelling faintly of damp concrete and chemical cleaner. Paige was laying flat on the thin mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling, looking completely dazed and hollowed out.

"Paige," Nika breathed, rushing to the side of the bed. She sat on the edge and immediately reached out, gently rubbing Paige’s pale face, trying to ground her. "Paige, are you okay? What did they do to you?" Nika leaned down, pressing a soft, deeply comforting kiss to Paige's forehead.

The touch seemed to bring Paige back to reality. Her eyes focused on Nika, and a fresh wave of helpless tears instantly spilled over her lashes.

"My parents came today," Paige choked out, her voice raspy and broken as she began to sob. "They met with my counselor... they read my letters. They told the counselor that Azzi and I were... that… they said we kissed and that I left marks on her."

Paige shook her head, a violent shudder wracking her shoulders as she gripped Nika’s sleeve. "I freaked out because they kept calling Azzi disgusting and saying I was sick. I yelled at them. I told them I hated them. So they dragged me down here. The counselor said this is for harder therapy...I'm so tired, Nika. I can't do this."

Seeing her friend completely break down made something shift in Nika's eyes. Instead of panicking, a sharp, fierce grin spread across Nika's face. She squeezed Paige's shoulders tightly.

"Hey, listen to me. Look at me, Paige," Nika whispered urgently, her voice buzzing with sudden adrenaline. "This is actually a good thing. This is going to make it so much easier for us to escape."

Paige blinked through her tears, confused. "What? How?"

"Think about it. Up in the isolation wing, you were surrounded by security, totally locked down. Down here, yeah it’s a strict unit, but there isn’t staff staring through a window at you every second," Nika explained rapidly, her eyes darting to the door to make sure the counselor was still watching the hall. "But we have to be together to pull it off. So here's the plan, I'm going to go right back upstairs, find my counselor, and tell her that Jordyn and I did things. I'll make up whatever I have to so they think I need to be down here.”

Nika gave Paige a reassuring, determined smile, wiping a stray tear from Paige's cheek. "They're going to send me straight down to this unit with you. And once we're both down here, Paige... we're getting the hell out of this place."

Paige let out a fragile, shuddering breath, her fingers tightening weakly around Nika’s sleeve.

"I feel so weak," Paige whispered, her voice cracking. "I’ve thrown up three times today. They brought a tray earlier, but I can't look at food. I can't eat. I’m just so tired. My whole body aches."

Nika’s expression softened into worry. She immediately shifted closer on the narrow mattress, wrapping an arm around Paige's shaking shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. She used her free hand to gently brush a stray lock of blonde hair away from Paige’s forehead.

"I know, P. I know you're exhausted," Nika murmured softly. "They are trying to break you, but you can’t let them do it to your body. You have to try and eat some dinner tonight. Even if it’s just a couple of bites, okay? You have to keep something down."

Paige buried her face into Nika's shoulder, her breath shallow and uneven. "I don't know if I have any strength left to fight them."

"Yes, you do," Nika insisted, her voice dropping into a firm, unyielding whisper right next to Paige's ear. "Think about Azzi. She needs you to be strong. She is out there right now waiting for you, loving you, and counting on you to make it back to her."

Paige let out a tiny, watery sob at the mention of Azzi, nodding weakly.

"Just hold on for a little bit longer," Nika promised, squeezing her tightly one last time before she had to get up. She looked down at Paige with absolute determination. "I’m going upstairs right now to cause a scene. I'll tell them whatever they need to hear about me and Jordyn, and I will be down here with you soon."

—

Later that evening, the door to the counselor's office clicked shut behind Nika. The room was bathed in the warm, artificial light of a desk lamp, a sharp contrast to the cold, stark concrete of the basement unit she had just visited.

Nika sat in the cushioned chair across from her counselor, letting her shoulders slump. She forced her eyes to look wide, watery, and completely overwhelmed, clasping her hands tightly in her lap to mimic a girl on the verge of a confession.

"Nika, you asked for an emergency session tonight," the counselor said, leaning forward with a gentle, encouraging smile. "What’s on your mind?"

Nika let out a shaky, rehearsed breath, looking down at her lap. "There’s... there’s something that’s been weighing on my heart lately. I can't keep carrying the lie anymore."

The counselor's eyes lit up slightly; this was the breakthrough they always wanted. She picked up her pen, leaning in. "You can tell me, Nika. This is a safe space for healing."

"When I first got here... during my intake, I lied about the extent of my sickness," Nika whispered, swallowing hard to force a tremor into her voice. "I told you it was just a crush, just a phase. But it wasn't. Back home, before I got sent here, I had a girlfriend."

The counselor leaned forward, jotting down a quick note. "And what was the nature of your relationship with her, Nika?"

"We were completely involved," Nika said, her voice dropping to a shameful, quiet murmur. "We couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was constant, and I hid it because I was so terrified of what you all would think of me. But I'm so tired of carrying the guilt. I'm so sick."

The counselor stared at her for a long, quiet moment, evaluating her. Then, she slowly placed her pen down and offered a sympathetic, nodding smile.

"I deeply appreciate your honesty, Nika. Admitting the truth, especially when it is painful and exposes the depth of your struggle, is always the very first step toward true correction," the counselor said. Her expression then shifted, turning grave and strictly professional. "However, because of the initial lie, and the sudden discovery of active, physical deviance, your current treatment plan is no longer sufficient."

Nika squeezed her hands tighter, doing her best to look terrified. "What do you mean?"

"Your behavior is more deeply rooted than we initially assessed," the counselor explained, pulling a fresh set of forms from her desk drawer. "Because of this, you need to be sent to a higher level of therapy. We are transferring you tonight."

A wave of triumphant relief washed over Nika's chest. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"Please," Nika whimpered, putting her hands over her face to hide the sudden spark of victory in her eyes. "Please don't lock me away down there."

"It is for your own good, Nika. Pack your things," the counselor said firmly, picking up the phone to call security.

Behind her hands, Nika let out a silent, breathless laugh.

—

The harsh fluorescent lights of the basement cafeteria hummed with a low, oppressive vibration. Paige sat at one of tables, staring blankly at a small bowl of chicken broth and a piece of dry toast. True to her promise to Nika, she was trying to eat, but her stomach was still in knots.

Suddenly, a metal tray slid onto the table right next to hers.

Paige gasped, snapping her head around, and her eyes instantly lit up. "Nika!" she whispered, a sudden, bright burst of genuine relief washing over her face.

Nika offered a tired but victorious grin, sliding onto the bench beside her. "Told you I’d make it down here," she murmured, leaning in close so her voice wouldn't carry to the guards stationed by the exit doors.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Paige breathed, her eyes shining with tears of gratitude. For the first time in days, the pain in her chest loosened. "I was so scared I’d be down here alone."

"Never," Nika said firmly, though her smile faded slightly as she looked around the grim, windowless room. The atmosphere down here was completely different; quieter, heavier, and thick with tension. "But... I'm not going to lie, P. I'm really nervous. Do you have any idea what the therapy is actually going to be like down here?"

Paige's shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping back to her untouched toast. "I don't know. My counselor said something about aversion therapy, I think... I think they’re going to try to make us hate the girls we love. I don't know if my head can take much more of them screaming at me."

"We just have to keep our heads down until we find a way out," Nika said, trying to sound brave, though her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her spoon. She stirred her soup in silence for a moment, her eyes turning distant and troubled.

"Paige..." Nika began, her voice dropping to a vulnerable, quiet whisper. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course," Paige said, shifting so she was facing her friend. "What is it?"

"I feel so guilty," Nika confessed, her chest heaving with a heavy sigh. She stared down at her tray, her knuckles turning white. "I feel like I betrayed Jordyn by flirting with that guy. She trusts me. She's out there waiting for me, and I crossed a line. When we get out of here and I have to tell her... she is going to be so angry with me."

Paige's heart ached for her. She reached over, placing her hand gently over Nika's, squeezing it with as much strength as she could muster.

"Nika," Paige said softly, her voice filled with absolute sincerity. "You did what you had to do. You are surviving."

Nika bit her lip, a tear spilling over her lashes. "But it still feels wrong."

"She loves you," Paige insisted gently, wiping the tear from Nika's cheek just like Nika had done for her. "When we get out of here, she isn't going to care about some stupid counselor you had to trick. She is just going to be so incredibly happy and relieved that you're safe, and that she has you back. You didn't do it to hurt her. You did it to get back to her."

Nika let out a shaky breath, letting Paige's words soothe the sharp edge of her guilt. She nodded slowly, squeezing Paige's hand back. "Thanks, P."

The double doors of the therapy room swung shut, locking with a dull, motorized hum. Paige and Nika sat side by side in plastic chairs, their shoulders practically glued together. A counselor they hadn't seen before; an older woman with her gray hair pulled back into a bun so tight it seemed to pull the skin of her temples taut, sat behind a podium at the front.

Paige’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She gripped the edges of her seat, her knuckles white. Next to her, she could feel the tension radiating off Nika in waves. They were both waiting for the hammer to fall, expecting aggressive interrogation or worse.

The counselor adjusted her glasses, looking down at them with a mixture of cold pity and stern authority. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing sharply off the concrete walls.

"We must strip away the lies you have built around your behavior," the counselor began, her voice dropping into a bizarre, intense solemnity. "We must look at the physical reality of your deviance. I think we can all agree here... that a woman’s body is a highly dangerous vessel of temptation."

She leaned over the podium, her eyes wide as she grew oddly, intensely descriptive.

"The devil knew what he was doing," she continued, her voice dropping to a breathless whisper. "The soft, perfectly sculpted curve of a female shoulder. The delicate slope of her waist. The way a woman's collarbone catches the light, or the warmth of her skin when she is near... it is a trap. They are simply too alluring, too beautiful to resist, and you must guard your eyes from finding them attractive!"

Paige froze. Her mind, which had been braced for the worst, completely stalled out.

She stared at the counselor, her jaw dropping slightly. Wait, Paige thought, her eyes widening as she processed the words. Did she just say 'too beautiful to resist'? Is she... describing how much she likes women? The irony of this counselor standing at a podium accidentally explaining; in vivid detail, how incredibly attractive she found the female body was too much.

A bubble of hysteria rose up in Paige's throat. She tried to swallow it down. She clenched her jaw, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

But then a tiny, muffled pfft escaped her nose.

The counselor’s eyes snapped directly to Paige. "Is something amusing?"

That was the breaking point. Paige’s shoulders began to shake. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hand over her mouth, but the mental image of this woman secretly pinning over shoulders was too hilarious. A breathless, high-pitched giggle spilled through her fingers.

"Paige," the counselor warned, her voice dropping into a harsh, offended register. "This is highly inappropriate. Your soul is at stake, and you are—"

"I'm sorry," Paige wheezed, her eyes watering as a full, genuine laugh broke through. She was laughing so hard her chest heaved. "I'm sorry, it's just... you described it... so beautifully..."

Nika turned her head to look at Paige, her eyes wide with shock. But as she caught on to what Paige was laughing at, and realized exactly how deeply the counselor had just told on herself, the absurdity of the situation slipped past Nika's defenses.

Nika let out a sharp, sudden snort.

"Nika!" the counselor barked, slamming her hand flat on the podium, her face flushing a deep, embarrassed red. "Silence!"

But the dam had broken. Nika buried her face in her hands, her shoulders rolling as she joined in, her loud, echoing laughter bouncing off the sterile concrete walls.

The counselor’s face hardened, the deep red blush on her cheeks fading back into a stern, defensive scowl. She slammed her folder onto the podium, the loud thwack finally bringing Paige and Nika’s giggles to a halt.

"Since you find the mechanics of temptation so amusing, Paige, let us bring the focus back to you," the counselor said, her voice dropping into a sharp, challenging edge. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the wood. "Tell me. What do you think your main temptation is? What is the root of your sickness?"

Paige wiped a stray tear of laughter from her eye, her breathing still a little erratic. The fear that usually paralyzed her in these sessions was completely gone, replaced by a strange, lightheaded calmness. She looked at the counselor, then shrugged slightly, her voice remarkably soft and honest.

"I don't think it's a temptation," Paige said, her eyes turning warm as her mind drifted right back to her room at St. Mary's. "And I didn’t think I liked girls, I just... I think I met my girlfriend, and she was kind, and so beautiful, and she made me feel safe and cared for. I just couldn't stay away from her."

Nika glanced at Paige, a soft, supportive look passing over her face.

The counselor blinked, clearly expecting an argument rather than a confession. She adjusted her glasses, clearing her throat as she quickly tried to steer the conversation back into her script.

"Well," the counselor said. "I appreciate your honesty, Paige. Truly. Awareness is a tool. But what you fail to see is that women are inherently manipulative. They will use the exact things you just mentioned; softness, feigned kindness, physical beauty, to snare you. They use those traits to wrap you around their finger, to corrupt your mind and isolate you from your family and faith, until you are entirely dependent on their validation."

Normally, a speech like that would have made Paige’s blood boil. She would have screamed, defended Azzi, and fought until staff dragged her out.

But right now? Paige couldn't even find it in herself to get mad.

She just sat there, staring at the counselor with a tiny, amused smirk playing at the corner of her lips. It was impossible to take the lecture seriously.

The counselor was right in the middle of explaining how "unregulated feminine energy leads directly to emotional instability" when a hand slowly rose from the group.

Sitting a few chairs away from Paige and Nika was a quiet, deadpan girl named Riley, who had been in the basement unit for a few weeks. She was staring at the counselor with a look of analytical concentration.

The counselor stopped mid-sentence, looking relieved to have an active participant. "Yes, Riley? Do you have a breakthrough you'd like to share regarding the nature of manipulation?"

Riley didn't blink. She leaned forward, her voice perfectly serious, hollow, and innocent. "No. I was just wondering... were you once a patient here?"

The room went dead silent.

The counselor’s mouth literally fell open. Her face transformed from clinical superiority to absolute, wide-eyed horror in a matter of seconds. "I—I beg your pardon?!" she sputtered, her tight bun practically vibrating with offense. "I have a master's degree in psychology! I am a certified—"

Beside Nika, Paige let out a violent, strangled snort. She immediately slammed both hands over her face, but it was useless. She doubled over in her chair, her forehead close to her knees as she shook with pure, breathless laughter.

Nika wasn't any better. She tried to disguise her laugh as a cough, but it mutated into a loud, wheezing cackle that echoed off the concrete walls. She buried her face in Paige’s shoulder, her tears spilling over as both of them just collapsed into each other, dying of laughter.

"Silence! Both of you, silence right now!" the counselor shrieked, her voice cracking, she was a deep, furious shade of red. "This is a serious therapeutic environment! Riley, go back to your room! Paige and Nika, if you do not control your disordered outbursts this instant, I will have the staff—"

But Paige couldn't even hear the threats. Her stomach ached, her lungs burned, as she cried real tears of amusement.

—

The cafeteria felt significantly less oppressive by the time lunch rolled around. Paige and Nika slid into their spot at the table, they were both vibrating with a loose, giddy energy.

"I literally couldn't breathe," Nika whispered the second they sat down, tearing off a piece of her bread and hiding her grin behind her hand. "When Riley asked that, I swear I saw the counselor's soul leave her body for a second."

Paige let out a quiet, breathless giggle, her cheeks flushing with color for the first time in weeks. She leaned across the table, her eyes wide and sparkling. "No, but think about it, Nika. It actually makes so much sense. The way she was talking right before that? Nobody describes a woman like that unless they’ve spent a lot of time staring at one."

"Oh, absolutely," Nika laughed, leaning in closer so their shoulders touched. "She definitely had a girlfriend. It was probably back in college, she had a roommate named like…. Eleanor."

"Eleanor!" Paige snorted, putting her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound as a staff member walked past their table. "Yes! And they probably studied together for hours, and now she’s taking all her heartbreak out on us because Eleanor moved to Paris and married an artist."

"Exactly! She's sitting up there trying to convince us a woman's neck is dangerous, when really she’s just mad that Eleanor didn't write her back," Nika joked, nudging Paige’s arm.

Paige smiled, a genuine, warm feeling spreading through her chest. She was still trapped in the facility, her body was still exhausted, and her parents had betrayed her; but sitting here, laughing with Nika, she didn't feel broken anymore. The facility hadn't won.

"Well, whatever happened to Eleanor," Paige whispered, taking a bite of her lunch and looking at Nika with profound gratitude, "I’m just glad Riley called her out. I don't think I'm ever going to be scared of her lectures again."

The loose, lightheaded happiness from lunch vanished the moment the cafeteria doors opened and a staff member called Paige’s name. Nika gave her hand a tight, encouraging squeeze under the table, but Paige could feel the familiar knot of dread tightening in her stomach as she was led down a completely unfamiliar corridor.

The guard pushed open the door to a small, windowless room. There was no podium or conference table here. Instead, a sterile, vinyl chair sat in the center of the room, facing a large television monitor mounted on the wall. Next to the chair was a metal cart filled with strange electronic equipment, wires, and a small glass of water.

A new counselor; a man with cold, unblinking eyes and a detached, clinical demeanor, stood by the cart, adjusting a set of dials.

"Sit, Paige," he said flatly, not even looking up.

Paige swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs as she walked over and sat down. The vinyl was cold beneath her. Before she could ask what was happening, the counselor stepped forward. He picked up two fabric bands lined with metal sensors and wrapped them tightly around Paige's wrists, securing the velcro with a loud, aggressive rip. The wires from the bands trailed back to the machine on the cart.

"What is this?" Paige asked, her voice trembling as she tried to pull her wrists back, but the bands held her arms firmly to the chair.

"This is the next stage of your behavioral restructuring," the counselor explained calmly, picking up a small remote control. "Your file indicates a severe, deeply ingrained physical and emotional fixation on another female. Standard talk therapy has failed to break the delusion. Therefore, we must rewire your brain's response system. We are going to pair your obsessive thoughts with a negative physical stimulus."

Paige's breath hitched. Aversion therapy. "Every time an image appears on the screen, you will be required to focus on it," the counselor said, stepping back behind the machine. "If your scan shows a positive emotional or physiological response, if your heart rate spikes in a way that indicates affection or desire, this machine will deliver a localized electric shock to your wrists. We will continue until your body learns to associate the fixation with pain."

"No," Paige whispered, a sudden panic exploding in her chest as she struggled against the wrist bands. "No, please, you can't—"

"Quiet," the counselor ordered, hitting a switch on the console. The machine let out a low, ominous hum, and the television screen in front of Paige blinked to life, casting a harsh, cold glow over her face. "Let us begin."

The television screen flickered, and the first image appeared. It was a generic photograph of a woman smiling, followed by a picture of two women holding hands on a park bench. Paige stared straight ahead, her chest heaving as she forced her mind to go completely blank, trying to keep her breathing steady.

Zap. A sharp, stinging jolt of electricity snapped against the skin of her wrists. Paige gasped, her muscles jerking involuntarily against the straps.

"Keep your focus on the screen, Paige," the counselor said coldly, making a notation. "Do not attempt to suppress your baseline vitals. The machine reads through the deception."

The screen flashed again, cycling through more photos; women embracing, women laughing together. Each time Paige felt a flicker of recognition or standard human empathy, the machine responded with another biting shock. Her wrists were already burning, the skin turning a raw, irritated red under the metal sensors. She clenched her teeth, tears of frustration prickling the corners of her eyes.

Then, the screen blinked.

Paige’s heart didn't just spike; it completely stopped.

Sitting right there on the screen, illuminated by the harsh, clinical light of the monitor, was Azzi. It was a candid picture of Azzi sitting on their bed in their old room, her curls falling loosely over her shoulders, looking up at the camera with that private, soft, beautiful smile she only ever gave to Paige.

The rush of love and longing that flooded Paige’s chest was instantaneous, and the machine punished her for it immediately. A violent, sustained shock ripped through her wrists, forcing her fingers to curl into tight, agonizing claws.

But Paige barely even felt the physical pain. An explosion of pure fury eclipsed everything else. Her mind flashed instantly back to her parents' cold, judgmental faces.

"Did they give that to you?!" Paige shrieked, her voice dropping into a guttural, furious tone that echoed violently off the concrete walls. "Did my parents give you that picture?! Did they?!"

The counselor didn't answer, his fingers moving calmly over the dials as the machine continued to hum, registering her explosive heart rate and sending another biting shock directly into her arms.

Paige thrashed against the vinyl chair, the straps digging deep into her skin, but she didn't care. She leaned as far forward as the restraints allowed, glaring at the counselor with a face twisted in absolute, protective rage.

"You are all sick!" Paige screamed, her voice cracking into a raw, powerful sob as she looked back at the image of her girl. "You are all completely sick in the head! How dare you use Azzi's picture for this shit?! You don't deserve to see her face!"

The machine jolted her again, a sharp, prolonged buzz meant to force submission, but Paige just bared her teeth, refusing to look at the screen. She stared directly into the counselor's cold eyes, her chest heaving violently as tears of rage ran down her face.

"Shock me!" Paige yelled, her voice vibrating with a terrifying, unbroken intensity. "Go ahead! Shock me all you want! It's never going to work!"

The counselor, completely unbothered by her defiance, reached over and twisted a dial on the console, turning the voltage up. "Let us see if your convictions hold when the reality of your sin is laid bare," he said flatly.

The television monitor blinked, cycling to the next image in the file.

Paige’s voice caught violently in her throat. The rage that had been sustaining her instantly fractured into something raw, agonizing, and entirely out of control.

It wasn't just a picture of Azzi. It was a photo from one of those quiet, perfect nights in their room. The lighting was soft, shadows dancing on the wall behind them. Paige had her hands gently cupping Azzi's face, her thumbs resting on her cheekbones, while one of Azzi’s arms were wrapped tightly around Paige's neck. They were caught mid-kiss, their lips pressed together with a tenderness that felt so sacred it hurt.

The machine registered the immediate spike in Paige's vitals and unleashed a massive, continuous current of electricity. The shock slammed through her wrists, violently locking her muscles and forcing a strangled gasp from her lungs.

But seeing that beautiful, deeply intimate memory dragged into the dirt of this cell made Paige go ballistic.

"No! Get out! Get your eyes off of us!" Paige screamed; a wild, animalistic shriek of pure hysteria and madness.

The pain didn't exist anymore. The restraint didn't exist. With a terrifying, adrenaline-fueled burst of panic and fury, Paige violently threw her entire body weight forward. The chair tipped over with a deafening crash, slamming onto its side against the linoleum. The sheer force of her momentum, combined with the angle of the fall, ripped the worn velcro straps completely off the armrests.

She was up in a second. Her wrists were bleeding where the metal sensors had scraped against her skin, but she didn't care. Paige lunged across the small room, entirely blinded by a psychosis of protective rage.

"Turn it off! Turn it off, you perverts! You sick, disgusting freaks!" she roared, her voice tearing to shreds as she threw herself at the television monitor, violently smashing her fists against the frame, trying to rip the screen right off the wall. "That's ours! You don't get to look at how she loves me! You don't get to see that! You don't get to have us!"

"Security to Aversion Room 3!" the counselor shouted, slamming his back against the wall in genuine terror as he scrambled to get away from her. "The resident has completely destabilized! Security!"

Paige whipped around, her hair tangled wildly across her face, her eyes wide, bloodshot, and entirely devoid of reason. She was hyperventilating, sobbing, and screaming at the top of her lungs, her words echoing like gunfire off the concrete walls.

"You think this is going to make me forget how she feels?!" Paige yelled, her chest heaving violently as she stepped toward the counselor, pointing a shaking, bloody finger at him. "I hate you! I hate all of you!"

—

The steel door opened abruptly, Nika, stepped out immediately.

"Hey, you," the staff member barked, pointing a finger at Nika. "Grab the first-aid kit from the duty desk and go into Bueckers' room. Staff said to clean her up. She made a mess of herself in aversion."

Nika’s heart dropped into her stomach. Clean her up? She didn't know what that meant, and the cold, detached way the staff member said it made her blood run cold. She didn't ask questions, though. She grabbed the plastic medical kit and practically bolted into Paige’s room, the door slamming shut behind her.

The room was dimly lit, and the smell of copper and sweat hung heavy in the air. Paige was sitting on the edge of the narrow mattress. She wasn't yelling anymore. In fact, she looked completely hollowed out; her shoulders slumped, her hair tangled wildly around her face, her eyes staring blankly at the concrete floor.

Then Nika saw her arms. Paige's wrists were raw and actively bleeding where the metal sensors had been violently ripped from her skin.

"Oh my god, Paige," Nika breathed, dropping the first-aid kit onto the bed and rushing to her knees in front of her. She gently took Paige’s hands, her fingers trembling as she looked at the wounds. "What happened? What did they do to you?"

Paige didn't look up right away. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was incredibly quiet, raspy, and completely checked out, as if she were speaking from a million miles away.

"Nika..." Paige whispered, her blank eyes slowly shifting to focus on her friend. "If they call your name... if they tell you to go to aversion therapy... you have to refuse. Don't let them take you in there. Just fight them. Force them to drag you somewhere else, but don't go into that room."

"Paige, you're shaking. Look at me," Nika urged, opening the kit and pulling out antiseptic wipes and gauze. She began to gently dab at the blood on Paige's right wrist, trying to be as soft as possible. "What is in that room? Why are your wrists like this?"

"They have a machine," Paige said, her voice completely flat, devoid of the rage she had felt just an hour ago. She was weak now, her body entirely spent. "They strap you down and shock you. They... they want to pair the pain with what you love."

Nika paused, her eyes widening as she wiped away a fresh layer of blood. "They tried to shock you when you thought about Azzi?"

"They had pictures, Nika," Paige murmured, a single, helpless tear falling, though her face remained completely expressionless. She looked so fragile, sitting there while Nika wrapped clean white gauze around her arm. "They had a picture of her in our dorm room. They kept shocking me, and I was screaming at them... and then they put up a photo of us. Of us kissing. In our room."

Paige let out a tiny, hollow breath that sounded almost like a broken laugh. "My parents gave it to them. I flipped the chair, tore the straps off, and I smashed the machine. I yelled at them."

Nika stopped wrapping, her chest tightening with a mixture of pride and absolute horror. She looked up at Paige’s pale, empty face, then down at the bloody gauze.

"It didn't work," Paige whispered, her eyes drifting back to the floor, her voice barely audible. "It's never going to work. But I'm so tired, I feel like my chest is completely empty."

"Hey," Nika said softly, catching Paige’s chin gently with her hand to make her look up. She finished taping the bandage secure on the second wrist. "You protected her. You fought for her, P. They didn't break you." Nika squeezed her hands tightly, her own eyes fierce with determination. "And I promise you, we are getting out of here soon."

Nika sat on the edge of the mattress as Paige slowly rolled onto her back, her strength completely gone. The adrenaline that had carried Paige through her outburst in the aversion room was entirely spent, leaving her looking smaller and more fragile than ever.

With a shaking, bandaged hand, Paige reached beneath the collar of her shirt and pulled out her locket. She brought the cold metal up to her lips, closing her eyes tightly as she pressed a desperate, lingering kiss to it.

"I can't do it, Nika," Paige sobbed, her voice cracking into a raw, breathless whisper. She let her arm fall back onto the bed, the locket resting against her chest. "My whole body hurts, and my brain... my brain can't handle it anymore. I’m so weak."

Nika shifted closer, her heart breaking as she watched her friend completely unravel. She reached out, gently smoothing the tangled blonde hair away from Paige’s forehead.

"You're not weak, P," Nika murmured softly, trying to inject as much strength into her voice as she could. "Look what you just did. You fought them off. You smashed their machine."

"But that was just today," Paige choked out, staring blankly at the ceiling as the tears kept flowing. "They are just going to push me harder tomorrow. They’re going to bring in something worse. They aren't going to stop until there's nothing left of me. I can't keep fighting a whole building, Nika. I'm going to lose her. They're going to make me lose my mind."

Nika didn't say anything right away. She just leaned down, wrapping her arms around Paige’s shaking shoulders, pulling her close to let her know she wasn't alone.

"They aren't going to break you, because I'm not going to let them have enough time," Nika whispered fiercely into her hair, her jaw tightening with determination. "Just lie still, rest your body, and let me worry about the everything else."

—

The click of a key turning in the lock broke the dead silence of the night. Paige barely stirred, her body still entirely spent from the afternoon, but her eyes fluttered open as a nurse walked into the dim room. Without a word, the nurse forced two small pills into Paige's hand and held a paper cup of water to her lips. Too exhausted and weak to fight, Paige swallowed them. Within minutes, darkness dragged her under, heavier than any normal sleep.

When she woke up, her head was spinning with a blinding, chemical fog.

She blinked against a searing, white light. The familiar concrete walls of her room were gone. She was back in the aversion room, but this time, they had prepared for her. Heavy, thick leather straps were locked tight around her chest, ankles, and her arms, pinning her completely flat and motionless against a chair. She couldn't even twitch her fingers.

"Let's try this again, Paige," the cold voice of the counselor echoed from the shadows behind the monitor. "Without the theatrics."

The screen blinked to life.

The images began to cycle, but this time, they didn't just let the photos sit there. As the candid pictures of Azzi alone in their dorm room appeared, followed by the deeply private photos of them kissing, the counselor began to speak over them in a low, relentless, clinical drone.

"Look at her," the counselor pressured, the machine delivering a steady, dull pulse of electricity to Paige’s wrists that felt like hundreds of needles pricking her skin. "Look at how she manipulates the camera. Look at the selfishness in her eyes. She doesn't love you. She used you to fulfill her own sick, disordered needs. She dragged you down into this filth and left you here to suffer the consequences while she's out there living her life."

The screen changed to the photo of them kissing on their bed; the memory Paige had tried so desperately to protect just hours before.

"This isn't love," the counselor’s voice cut through the fog in Paige's brain, dripping with cold disgust. "This is a parasite destroying a host. She is a sickness, Paige. She is the reason your parents don't look at you the same way. She’s the reason your siblings don’t have a big sister anymore. She is the root of every ounce of pain you are feeling right now. If she truly cared about you, she would have never touched you."

The continuous shocks buzzed against her raw skin, pairing the physical agony perfectly with the cruel, systematic destruction of her safest memories.

Paige was so entirely broken she couldn't even find the rage to scream anymore. The fury that had saved her that afternoon had been completely washed away by the medication and the relentless cruelty of the assault. She just lay her head back against the headrest, her throat tight, a quiet, broken sob escaping her lips as she stared helplessly at the screen. Her mind was too tired to fight the words, too weak to hold up the shield she had carried for so long, and as she watched Azzi's beautiful face twist under the counselor's criticisms, she felt a terrifying, hollow despair start to take root deep inside her chest.

The medication still held Paige in a tight, suffocating grip when the staff finally dumped her back onto the thin mattress of her room. The door locked with a definitive, echoing clang, plunging the tiny room into darkness.

Paige curled into a tight, trembling ball, pulling her knees up to her chest. The raw skin on her wrists throbbed with a dull, burning ache, but the pain in her mind was infinitely worse.

Desperate to survive the night, Paige pulled the hidden locket up to her lips, pressing it against her mouth until her teeth ached. She closed her eyes tightly and began to whisper into the dark, her voice a fragile, fractured thread.

"I love you," Paige breathed, her chest heaving with a quiet sob. "I love you, Paige. Don't listen to them."

She paused, swallowing hard, and closed her eyes even tighter, forcing herself to remember the exact cadence of Azzi's voice.

"I'm right here," Paige whispered back to herself, her voice shifting slightly as she tried to mimic Azzi’s soft, grounding tone. "I'm right here, P. They're lying to you. I would never leave you."

"It hurts so much, Azzi," Paige murmured in her own voice, a tear slipping down her nose. "My head hurts. They're trying to take you away."

"They can't take me," Paige whispered back, answering for the girl who wasn't there. "They aren't strong enough. Look at me, Paige. Just look at me."

In the pitch-black room, with her brain entirely fried from the shocks, the medication, and the psychological trauma of the day, the fragile line between memory and reality completely snapped. The room didn't feel like a prison anymore. The air felt warmer. The smell of copper and sweat seemed to fade, replaced by the faint, comforting scent of Azzi’s shampoo and perfume.

Paige blinked, her pupils dilated in the dark. Through the haze of her exhaustion, she didn't just imagine Azzi; she truly believed she was there.

She could feel the phantom sensation of a soft hand gently brushing the tangled hair away from her forehead. She could see the silhouette of Azzi’s shoulders sitting right there on the edge of the cot, looking down at her with those familiar, protective eyes.

"You came for me," Paige choked out, a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief washing over her broken features. She didn't feel weak anymore; she felt safe. She reached her bandaged hands out into the empty air, her fingers closing around nothingness, but to her shattered mind, she was holding onto the only person who mattered. "I knew you would. I told them you would."

"I'm always here, I love you so much, baby. Get some sleep." Paige's mind supplied for the illusion, her lips barely moving as she lay completely still, cradled entirely by the heartbreaking comfort of her own psychosis.

She pressed her cheek against the rough fabric of her pillow, convinced she was resting her head right against Azzi's chest. Shielded by the hallucination, Paige finally let her eyelids close, her breathing slowing down as she drifted into a deep, protected sleep, completely unaware that she was entirely alone.

—

The cafeteria was dead silent when Paige dragged her feet across the linoleum, holding her tray with weak, trembling hands. She looked completely hollowed out. Dark, bruised circles ringed her sunken eyes, her skin was a pale gray, and her hair was a tangled mess. She sat down next to Nika like a ghost, staring blankly at her food.

Nika’s heart twisted in her chest just looking at her. She reached out, immediately wrapping her hand around Paige's bandaged wrist, being careful of the raw burns underneath. "Paige... oh my god. Did they take you back there last night?"

Paige didn't look upset, though. In fact, a faint, terrifyingly vacant smile touched her cracked lips. She turned her hollow eyes to Nika, her voice a soft, airy whisper.

"Azzi came and visited me last night," Paige murmured, her expression completely detached from the bleak reality around them. "It was so nice to have her back. She sat right on my bed and held me. She told me she loved me. It made the pain go away."

Nika froze, the air leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp. She stared at Paige, her mind racing with absolute, pure terror. Azzi isn't here. Azzi is hours away. The realization hit Nika like a physical blow: the shocks, the medication, and the torture had completely fried Paige’s brain. She was hallucinating. She was breaking.

A cold panic erupted in Nika’s chest. We have to leave. We have to get out of this place immediately, tonight, she thought desperately.

But Nika looked at the fragile, glassy look in Paige’s eyes and knew she couldn't say that out loud. If she snapped Paige back to reality right now, if she tore down the one coping mechanism her shattered mind had built to survive, Paige might completely collapse. She didn't need a frantic escape plan thrown at her while she was this weak, she just needed to feel safe.

Nika forced her face into the softest, most reassuring expression she could manage, swallowing down the lump of fear in her throat. She squeezed Paige’s hand gently.

"That's... that's great, P," Nika said softly, her voice thick with a fierce, protective emotion. "I'm so incredibly happy she came to see you. I’m glad you have her back."

Paige nodded vaguely, leaning her head onto Nika's shoulder, letting out a small, contented sigh. Nika held her tight, staring over Paige's head at the staff by the door, her eyes burning with a dangerous, quiet resolve.

Nika waited until the post-breakfast transition, scanning the hallway until she spotted the counselor who had helped her track Paige down in isolation. He was carrying a stack of files, looking nervous as he avoided eye contact with the residents.

Nika stepped out of the line, ducking into a blind spot in the corridor near the staff supply closet. As he walked past, she reached out, grabbed his forearm, and yanked him into the cramped, dimly lit alcove.

"What are you doing?!" he hissed, his eyes darting frantically to the open door. "If someone sees us—"

"Listen to me," Nika cut him off, her voice a sharp, desperate whisper. She stepped into his space, her eyes fiercely locked onto his. "Paige is losing her mind. She's hallucinating. She's going to die down here if we don't get out, and I am not leaving her behind."

"Nika, I can't just open the doors," he stammered, pulling back. "The security protocols in the basement—"

"If Paige goes down, I’m taking you with us," Nika threatened directly, her voice dropping into a cold, unwavering register. "The second they bring me in for questioning, I will tell everyone exactly how you helped me see her in isolation. I’ll tell them how you helped me lie my way down here."

The counselor's face drained of color. He swallowed hard, his hands shaking against the files in his arms. He knew she meant it. "Tonight is impossible," he whispered urgently, leaning closer. "The head supervisor is on the night shift tonight. But... tomorrow night is different."

Nika kept her grip tight on his arm. "What happens tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow is Wednesday. The night shift rotates," he explained, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "I’m scheduled to transport Paige to a midnight aversion session in the secondary wing. If you wait until then, I can falsify the transfer paperwork to include your name. I’ll bring you along as a peer restraint. I can use my badge to unlock the side exit near the parking lot. I’ll help you leave."

Nika stared at him, analyzing his face for any sign of a trap. He was terrified, completely compromised, and desperate to protect his own skin.

"Midnight tomorrow," Nika repeated, slowly letting go of his arm. "If you cross us—"

"I won't," he promised breathlessly, backing out of the closet. "Just... keep her quiet until then."

He slipped back into the hallway, disappearing into the crowd of staff. Nika stepped out a moment later, her chest heaving as she leaned against the concrete wall. They had a plan. They had a real, concrete way out.

But as she looked down the hall toward Paige's room, a cold weight settled into her stomach. Twenty-four hours. She just had to figure out how to keep Paige grounded, safe, and alive for another twenty-four hours.

The group therapy room felt suffocatingly small. A circle of residents sat in plastic chairs under the flat, humming lights, but Paige was barely present. She sat completely numb, her hands loosely folded over her wrapped wrists, staring blankly at a scratch on the linoleum floor. Her eyes were wide but entirely unfocused, fixed on a world only she could see.

The counselor ran a hand down her clipboard, her eyes landing on Paige. "Paige," she called out, her voice echoing coldly in the quiet room. "We were just discussing how accountability creates true freedom. What did you think about what your peer just shared regarding her own failures?"

Paige didn't move. The silence stretched so long that the other girls began to shift uncomfortably.

"Paige?" the counselor repeated, sharper this time.

Slowly, Paige’s head tilted up. Her face was empty and entirely stripped of her usual warmth. "I don't... it doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice incredibly raspy, barely carrying across the circle.

Nika, sitting three chairs down, gripped the edge of her seat so hard her nails dug into the plastic. Her stomach twisted into knots. The fact that Paige wasn't fighting back anymore was terrifying.

Hours later, the dinner bell rang, but Paige never made it to the cafeteria.

Nika slipped away from the line, ducking down the dim corridor and pushing open the unlocked door to Paige's cell. The room was dark, but the violent, muffled sound of retching instantly made Nika's blood run cold.

Paige was on her knees in the cramped bathroom corner, her small frame shaking violently as she threw up into the toilet. Her skin was a sickly, translucent white, slick with a cold sweat, and she was hyperventilating, her body completely rejecting the medication and the stress of the past forty-eight hours.

"Paige, oh god," Nika breathed, rushing to her side. She knelt in the dark, gathering Paige's tangled blonde hair back with one hand while gently rubbing her trembling back with the other.

Paige collapsed against the rim of the toilet, letting out a weak, pathetic sob. She was too exhausted to even wipe her mouth, her chest heaving as she closed her eyes against the blinding headache splitting her mind apart. "Nika... everything is spinning," she choked out, her voice a fragile, broken thread. "I feel so sick. I can't keep it down."

"I know, I know. Just breathe, P. I've got you," Nika whispered, her own eyes burning with tears as she grabbed a piece of rough paper towel, wetting it to press against Paige's burning forehead.

As she wiped the sweat from Paige's pale face, Nika looked at the raw, bandaged wrists and the exhaustion hollowed into her best friend's features. A fierce, desperate mantra started looping in Nika's own mind, the only thing keeping her from screaming down the hallway.

One more day. Just one more day. She adjusted the cool towel, pulling Paige close against her side to share her warmth. Just hold on for twenty-four hours, Paige. Tomorrow at midnight, we are running, and I am bringing you back to the real world.

—

The air in the unit was cold, but Paige was burning up, her body still fighting the residual nausea and the lingering toxins of the facility's medication.

She curled onto her side on the mattress, a violent shiver running through her frame. Her mind, pushed far past the brink of exhaustion, completely fractured once again. The concrete walls dissolved into the background as the trauma rebuilt her safer, gentler reality.

In the dark, Paige wasn't alone.

She could feel the distinct warmth of a blanket being pulled up over her shoulders, and then the comforting weight of a body settling onto the cot right behind her. To Paige's fried senses, Azzi’s arms were wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her back against a warm chest.

"I've got you, P," a voice whispered in the dark. It was sweet, grounding, and completely real to Paige’s ears. "You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you for fighting for us."

A soft, broken sigh escaped Paige's lips. "It hurts so much, Azzi," she murmured into the empty room, her voice a fragile, slurred whimper. "I had to do another session today and they kept saying you don't love me. I could feel myself slipping away from you."

"They can't take you away from me," the phantom voice answered back, filled with a beautiful tenderness. "I love you more than anything. Just hold onto me. Close your eyes and listen to my chest. I'm not going anywhere."

In reality, the cot was completely empty.

Paige was entirely alone in the dark, her knees tucked tight to her chest. Her own hands, still wrapped in thick white gauze, were crossed over her chest, her fingers rhythmically rubbing her own arms and shoulders, trying to simulate the feeling of being held. She was stroking her own back, her lips moving silently as she supplied both halves of the conversation, her mind desperately working overtime to give her the comfort she needed to survive.

"You're safe now," Paige whispered to herself, her voice shifting to that softer, protective cadence as she rubbed her own trembling shoulders. "Your wrists will heal eventually. Just rest, baby. I'm right here. I love you."

Convinced she was tucked safely under Azzi’s chin, breathing in the imaginary scent of lavender and warmth, Paige finally let her eyes close.

—

The next morning, Paige sat in her own quiet world. She looked worse than the day before; her skin had a waxy, translucent look, and her eyes were wide, glassy, and completely detached from the room.

Nika watched her closely, her own heart hammering against her ribs. Twelve hours, Nika kept repeating to herself like a lifeline. Just twelve more hours until midnight.

Paige suddenly leaned across the table, a strange, breathless excitement animating her hollow features. "She visited me again last night, Nika," she whispered, her voice carrying an eerie, lightweight joy. "We were cuddling the whole night. She held me so tight. You have no idea how happy I am, I missed my girl so much."

Nika felt a cold shiver trace down her spine, but she kept her face carefully composed. She reached across the table and gently squeezed Paige’s bandaged hand. "I’m glad she was there to comfort you, P."

"But... she always leaves right after I fall asleep," Paige continued, her brow furrowing slightly as a flicker of confusion crossed her face. She looked down at her untouched breakfast tray, her voice dropping into an anxious, childlike whisper. "I don't know why she hasn't taken me with her yet. I told her how bad it is here."

Nika froze, her breath catching in her throat.

"Tonight, when she comes back, I'm going to tell her," Paige said, nodding to herself with a sudden, tragic certainty. A tear slipped down her pale cheek, though her glassy smile remained fixed. "I'm going to tell her to take me with her. I can't wait to go home, Nika. I'm telling her tonight that we have to leave."

Nika’s chest tightened with panic. Hearing Paige talk about asking an illusion to "take her away" sent a jolt of pure terror through her. Paige’s grip on reality was practically gone. If Nika let her wait for a hallucination that would never arrive, Paige would completely shatter by morning.

Nika gripped Paige’s hand tighter, leaning in close so their foreheads were almost touching, her voice fierce with a desperate, hidden truth.

"Paige, listen to me," Nika whispered urgently, her eyes locked onto her friend's vacant stare, trying to bring her back to reality. "You are going home. Okay? I promise you, you are leaving this place. Just hold on through today. Don't worry about tonight. You just have to trust me, okay?"

—

The door to the room clicked loudly, the sound cutting through the thick silence of the basement.

Inside, Paige was completely deep in her own world. She was sitting upright on the edge of the mattress, her eyes wide and fixed on the empty air right beside her. Her fingers were gently smoothing down the wrinkles of the blanket, her lips moving in a quiet, frantic whisper.

"We just have to wait a little longer," Paige murmured to the empty space, a frail, glassy smile on her face. "I'll tell them to go away. We're leaving tonight, right? I can’t wait to be back in our room."

The door swung fully open. The counselor stepped into the room, his face pale and sweating under the dim hallway lights, his hands trembling as he held his clipboard. Right behind him was Nika, her jaw set, her eyes burning with a desperate, sharp focus.

Paige blinked, the light from the hallway breaking her trance. She immediately threw her arm out over the empty mattress, as if shielding someone from view.

"Go away!" Paige cried out, her voice raspy and panicked as she glared at the counselor. "Leave us alone! Get out!"

The counselor took a panicked step back, his eyes darting to the hallway. "Nika, quiet her down," he hissed under his breath. "If the supervisor hears her screaming—"

Nika didn't wait. She rushed past him, dropping to her knees in front of Paige. She grabbed Paige's arms gently but firmly.

"Paige, Paige, look at me. Shh, be quiet," Nika whispered fiercely, her voice cutting through the panic in the room. She leaned in so close their foreheads almost touched. "Listen to me very carefully. Grab everything you brought here right now."

Paige's eyes floated wildly, trying to look past Nika's shoulder at the empty bed. "But I’m spending time with Az—"

"Azzi is taking you home," Nika interrupted, her voice dropping into deep certainty that snapped right through Paige's delusion. Nika squeezed her hands tight, looking directly into her glassy eyes. "She’s waiting for you at home, Paige. We are getting out of here right now. But you need to stand up and come with me."

The word home seemed to spark recognition deep within Paige's fried mind. The vacant smile vanished, replaced by a sudden, desperate clarity. She nodded weakly, her hands shaking as she reached into her shirt to ensure the locket was secure before getting off the bed to grab her backpack, and then gripping Nika’s arm like a lifeline.

"Let's move," the counselor whispered frantically from the doorway, his keys jingling in his trembling hand.

The three of them stepped out into the dim hallway of the basement ward. The counselor kept his head down, holding his clipboard tightly against his chest, while Nika walked close to Paige’s side, keeping a firm grip on her elbow. Paige moved like a shadow, her steps slightly sluggish from the exhaustion, but her eyes were fixed straight ahead, clinging to the promise Nika had just made her.

They walked past the first intersection, blending in perfectly as if heading toward the secondary wing for the therapy. But as they reached the end of the hall, the counselor took a sharp, sudden left turn, leading them down a narrow hallway that pointed toward the facility's emergency exits.

Nika’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, but she kept her face completely blank, marching forward.

At the end of the hall stood an exit door marked with a red security light. The counselor reached into his pocket, his fingers shaking as he selected a brass key from his ring. He slid it into the lock, turned it with a muffled click, and pushed the door open to the cool, crisp night air.

"My shift just ended," he whispered frantically, checking his watch. "My car is parked right in the first row of the employee lot. Walking out now looks completely normal. We just need to walk calmly. No running."

They stepped out into the dark parking lot. The fresh air hit Paige's face, and she let out a tiny, breathless gasp, her glassy eyes looking up at the open sky for the first time in months. They maintained a steady, even pace across the asphalt, matching the counselor’s steps until they reached a unassuming silver car.

He unlocked the doors with a quick beep. "Get in. Fast."

Nika pulled Paige into the backseat, and the counselor slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine without turning on the headlights until they cleared the main driveway.

"Get down on the floorboards. Lay completely flat," he ordered, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the main road.

Nika pulled Paige down into the cramped space behind the front seats, pressing her back against the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly around Paige, shielding her body with her own. Paige didn't fight it; she just held onto her locket, her breathing shallow as the steady hum of the tires against the pavement signaled their growing distance from the facility.

For thirty agonizing minutes, nobody spoke. The car twisted through dark country roads before the glowing lights of a small, quiet town began to filter through the windows. The counselor pulled the car into the dark, shadowed corner of a gravel parking lot adjacent to a small train station.

He killed the engine and turned around in his seat. "We're here. You can get up."

Nika and Paige sat up, rubbing their cramped limbs. The counselor reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, handing it over to Nika. "There’s five hundred dollars in here, enough for two train tickets, food and a hotel for a few nights, as soon as they realize you’re gone you’ll be put on the missing persons list. You need to get yourself off of it as soon as possible, understand?"

Nika took the envelope, her fingers tightening around it. "Thank you," she breathed, a genuine wave of relief washing over her.

"Go. Don't look back," he whispered.

Nika grabbed Paige’s hand, opening the door. They stepped out into the cool night, the gravel crunching softly beneath their shoes as they walked calmly but quickly toward the glowing platform of the train station.

The air inside the small train station was warm and smelled faintly of old coffee and floor wax. Nika kept her arm hooked securely through Paige’s, guiding her toward the fluorescent glow of the ticket counter. Paige walked beside her in a daze, her eyes darting around the empty lobby, her fingers still nervously clutching the locket hidden beneath her shirt.

A tired looking clerk looked up from behind the glass partition as they approached.

"Two tickets to Washington, D.C., please," Nika said, her voice remarkably steady as she slid a portion of the cash from the envelope across the counter. "The next available train."

The clerk nodded sleepily, tapping at a keyboard before printing out two paper tickets. Nika scooped them up along with her change, keeping a tight grip on Paige as they walked out onto the platform. Within ten minutes, the low, powerful rumble of the tracks signaled the train's arrival. The metal doors slid open, and Nika guided Paige up the steps and into the quiet, dimly lit passenger car.

They found a pair of empty seats near the back. The train let out a deep hiss, and with a gentle jolt, it began to roll forward, slowly pulling out of the station and into the dark expanse of the night.

As the town lights began to fade through the window, the reality of what they had just accomplished seemed to finally break through the fog in Paige's mind.

Paige turned in her seat, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears. Without a word, she threw her arms around Nika’s neck, burying her face into her friend's shoulder. She held on with everything she had, her whole body shaking with a quiet, releasing sob.

"Thank you," Paige choked out, her voice raw but filled with emotion. She squeezed Nika tightly, her bandaged wrists resting against Nika's back. "I love you so much."

Nika wrapped her arms around Paige, holding her tight as the clicking of the train tracks filled the quiet cabin. For the first time in weeks, Nika let out a full, unburdened breath, resting her chin on Paige's head. "I've got you, P," Nika whispered softly into her hair. "We're safe now. We're going home."

—

The pale, weak light of a cold November morning filtered through the window, casting long, gray shadows across Azzi’s bedroom. She stirred under her blankets, the room freezing despite the radiator’s low hum. For months, waking up had been the hardest part of her day; the brief, cruel second of forgetfulness before the weight of Paige’s disappearance settled right back onto her chest.

A sharp vibration from her phone on the nightstand broke the silence.

Azzi rolled over, squinting against the screen's glare.

Caroline: Azzi, are you awake?

Caroline: I need you to go get Ines and bring her into your room. Tell me the second you guys are together. Please.

Azzi sat up quickly, her heart skipping a beat. A cold wave of dread washed over her. Caroline’s texts were never like this. Why would she need Ines? Why the secrecy?

Too anxious to reply first, Azzi threw off her blankets, her bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. She practically ran down the short hallway to Ines’s room, knocking urgently before slipping inside. Ines was still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes in confusion as Azzi grabbed her arm.

"Ines, get up. You need to come to my room right now," Azzi whispered, her voice tight with panic.

"What? Azzi, what's going on?"

"I don't know, just come on."

Azzi pulled a bewildered Ines back into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. They sat side by side on the edge of the mattress. With shaking fingers, Azzi unlocked her phone and typed out a reply.

Azzi: Ines is in my room. What’s going on?

An agonizing minute passed. The bubble indicating Caroline was typing appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.

Then, two images came through in rapid succession.

Azzi tapped the first photo. It was a digital flyer, bordered in stark, official red lettering: MISSING PERSONS REPORT. Underneath, looking out from a photo taken about a year ago, was Paige. Her bright smile, her familiar eyes; all of it slapped next to a cold list of physical descriptors and a contact number for the state police.

Azzi’s breath hitched, a high, strangled sound escaping her throat. "No..." she whispered. "No, no, no."

She swiped to the second image. It was another missing persons report, identical in format. But the face staring back was a girl Azzi had never seen before in her life. Dark hair, sharp features, intense eyes. The name printed in bold letters at the top read: NIKA MÜHL.

Before Azzi’s brain could even begin to process the name, a final text from Caroline popped up at the bottom of the screen.

Caroline: They went missing together. I'm so sorry Azzi.

The phone slipped from Azzi's hand, clattering uselessly against the mattress.

"Azzi? What is it? Let me see," Ines pleaded, her voice rising in panic as she reached for the phone.

Azzi couldn't answer. She couldn't breathe. The room felt like it was spinning violently out of control. Wherever Paige had been all this time, she was gone now, lost somewhere with a stranger named Nika.

Azzi’s hands flew to her face as a violent, gut-wrenching sob tore through her chest. She collapsed forward, her forehead pressing against her knees as she completely broke down, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Ines reached down and picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she looked at the illuminated screen. The two missing persons reports stared back at her. She gasped, a cold dread instantly wrapping around her chest as she stared at Paige’s familiar, bright smile next to the bold red letters, and then at the dark-haired girl, Nika, who had vanished right alongside her.

"Oh my god," Ines breathed, her voice cracking as the sheer weight of the horror sank in. She dropped the phone onto the mattress and immediately threw her arms around Azzi, pulling her close. "Azzi, oh my god. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Azzi clung to Ines’s shirt, her fingers clawing at the fabric as if she were trying to keep herself from completely spinning off the edge of the earth. She was hyperventilating, her chest heaving with violent, ragged gasps as the dam broke, and she dissolved into a devastating, uncontrollable sob.

"My baby..." Azzi wailed, the sound raw and entirely broken, echoing painfully against the walls of the bedroom. "Ines, my baby is gone. Where is she? Where did she go?"

"Shh, I've got you. Just breathe, Azzi, please breathe," Ines whispered fiercely, rubbing Azzi's back as she rocked her back and forth, her own tears beginning to spill over.

"Look at the report," Azzi choked out, her voice rising in a panicked, hysterical spiral. She shook her head violently, burying her face into Ines's shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric. "That town... that's hours away from her house! Why was she all the way out there? She’s not safe, Ines. Who is Nika? Why were they together?"

Azzi was an absolute mess, her entire body shaking so violently that her teeth chattered. The months of not knowing where Paige had been had suddenly culminated in this terrifying, active nightmare.

"We're going to find her," Ines promised desperately, squeezing Azzi as tight as she possibly could, trying to be the comfort her friend so desperately needed as Azzi sobbed herself raw in the dark. "We're going to figure this out, Azzi."

"I can't be here," Azzi choked out, her voice rising in a panicked, breathless spiral as she tried to pull away from Ines’s embrace. She was hyperventilating, her hands clawing frantically at her own hair. "Ines, I need to go home. I can't just sit here!"

"Azzi, stop, look at me," Ines pleaded, grabbing her hands. "Just breathe, please, just try to calm down for a second so we can think."

"I can't calm down!" Azzi sobbed, her face completely wet with tears as she shook her head violently. Then, she stopped, her eyes landing on her phone lying on the bed. A desperate, fragile look crossed her face. "My phone. Ines, grab my phone."

Ines immediately snatched it up. "Okay, okay. I have it. What do you need?"

"Go to my voice memos," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of grief washed over her. "Go to the very first one. Play it. Just... please, hold it up to my ear."

Ines quickly swiped through the screen, finding the app and tapping the very first recording in the list. She gently leaned forward and held the speaker of the phone directly up to Azzi's ear.

A quiet static hummed for a second, and then, Paige’s voice filled the space between them. It was warm, clear, and so vibrantly alive that it felt like a ghost had just stepped into the room.

“Hi, baby,” Paige laughed softly through the speaker. “You’re probably never even gonna hear this because this seems like a weird app to use, but you’re in the shower right now and I’m just sitting on your bed bored out of my mind, so... I figured, why not record something for you?”

Azzi squeezed her eyes shut, a soft, broken whimper escaping her lips as she pressed her head closer to the phone.

“I was just looking at you before you went in, and I don't know, I just wanted to say that you are so beautiful, Az. Like, actually insane. I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” Paige’s voice continued, lighthearted and sweet, completely untainted by the nightmare of the last few months. “You’re so smart, and you have the prettiest smile, and I love you so much. Even when you make me carry your bookbag across campus. Seriously, what do you even keep in there? I love you anyway, though.”

Azzi let out a shattered, wet laugh through her sobs, her chest aching so violently she could barely draw breath. She could picture Paige sitting on her mattress, talking into the phone with that stupid, beautiful grin on her face.

“You’re probably gonna turn the water off soon, so I should stop rambling. I love you, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you when you get out.” The recording paused for a brief second, and then Paige made a soft, exaggerated kissing sound right into the microphone “Mwah.” before the audio cut to silence.

Azzi completely collapsed against Ines, her forehead burying into her friend’s shoulder as she cried harder than she ever had before, her heart breaking into a million pieces over the voice of the girl she loved.

With her chest aching and her mind spinning out of control, Azzi reached for her phone with trembling fingers. Her parents had no idea she even had a phone here; it was strictly against academy rules; but in this moment of absolute terror, those restrictions didn't matter. She was stripped bare, reduced to a frightened, desperate child who just wanted her mother.

She typed in her mom’s number and pressed the phone to her ear, her breathing coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the line rang.

"Azzi?" her mom's voice answered, her tone instantly filled with a mix of surprise and immediate concern.

"Mom," Azzi gasped out. The word came out as a broken, choked-up sob. "Mom, please. You have to come get me."

"What's wrong? Why are you crying like that?" her mom asked. Her voice wasn't cold or disapproving; instead, it was warm and deeply worried.

Azzi completely disintegrated on the line, her voice rising in a high, frantic wail that sounded incredibly small.

"I can't be here, Mom! I can't stay here anymore!" Azzi begged, clutching the phone hard. She sounded so helpless, reaching out for her mother the way she used to when she was little. "Please, just come pick me up. I need to come home. Please, Mom. I need you. Just come get me, please..."

Hearing the tone of her daughter's voice, Katie didn't ask questions about the forbidden phone or press for details. The maternal instinct to protect her child completely took over.

"Azzi...breathe. It's okay. I’m right here," her mom said, her voice soft, soothing, and entirely focused on comforting her. "Listen to me. Pack up whatever you need to. I am getting in the car right this second. Just stay inside and keep yourself safe until I get there, okay?"

"Okay," Azzi whispered, a tiny, fragile breath of relief escaping her lips. "Thank you, Mama."

"I'll see you soon, honey. I love you," her mom said gently before hanging up.

Azzi let the phone slide onto the bed, pulling her knees back to her chest and leaning heavily against Ines as she cried, waiting for the long drive home to begin.

—

With her mom on the way, Azzi’s panic shifted into a frantic, hyper-focused energy. She pulled a suitcase from the closet and began packing, but she wasn't just grabbing her own clothes.

She went straight for the items Paige had left behind during their time together. She carefully folded Paige’s clothes, still holding onto the faint, fading scent of her, and packed them at the very bottom of the bag. She gathered a stray notebook full of Paige’s drawings, Paige’s sheets, and a soft gray blanket they had shared on cold nights. Only after Paige’s things were completely safe inside did Azzi pack a suitcase of her own things.

By the time she finished her hands were still shaking, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

Azzi carried her suitcase down the quiet, polished hallway toward the main office to officially check out. Ines walked right beside her, carrying her second suitcase, offering a quiet, steady presence.

When they entered the office, Azzi’s mom, was already standing near the front desk. She looked anxious, her eyes instantly locking onto Azzi’s pale, tear-stained face.

Before Katie could even speak, sister Margret stepped out from behind the desk. She looked at Azzi with a profound, gentle sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, Azzi," she said softly, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on Azzi's trembling shoulder. "We saw the news report this morning. We are so, so incredibly sorry."

Azzi’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears welling up in her eyes. She just nodded mutely, unable to find her voice.

"We completely understand why you need to go home and be surrounded by your family right now," the sister continued, turning her warm gaze to Katie, then back to Azzi. "We are praying for her, dear. We pray she is found safe and sound, and that you get to see her again very soon. May god watch over both of you."

"Thank you, Sister," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

Katie stood by the door, a look of deep confusion crossing her face. She had no idea who this missing girl was, what report the nun was talking about, or why her daughter was so utterly devastated over it. But as she looked at Azzi; who seemed so small, fragile, and completely broken, Katie chose to set her questions aside. This wasn't the time to interrogate her.

Katie stepped forward, taking a suitcase from Ines’ hand. She wrapped her free arm tightly around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her close against her side.

"Let's go home," Katie said gently, offering a polite nod to the sister and Ines as she guided her sobbing daughter out into the crisp November air toward the waiting car.

—

The six-hour drive back home was a quiet, agonizing stretch of highway under the pitch-black November sky.

Azzi curled up in the passenger seat, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the window as the headlights of passing cars blurred through her tears. She was miserable, her chest aching with a hollow, physical pain. She sobbed until her throat was completely raw, then she would quiet down into a silent, shaking state of shock, only for the reality to crash over her again, starting the cycle of weeping all over again.

Katie sat in the driver's seat, keeping her eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. She didn't press for answers. She didn't ask who the missing girl was, or what had happened to break her daughter so completely. Hearing the grief radiating from the passenger seat, Katie knew that any questions would only push Azzi over the edge. So, she just let her cry, the quiet hum of the heater and the soft, rhythmic clicking of the turn signals the only sounds accompanying Azzi's heartbreak.

By the time the car finally pulled into their familiar driveway, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. The neighborhood was dead silent, frosted over with a thin layer of late-autumn chill.

Katie killed the engine, got out, and gently opened the passenger door. Azzi was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that she could barely stand. Her limbs felt like jello. Katie grabbed the suitcases from the trunk with one hand and wrapped her other arm securely around Azzi’s waist, guiding her up the front steps and into the quiet warmth of the house.

They walked up the stairs to Azzi's bedroom. The room was exactly as she had left it; safe, familiar, and still.

Katie dropped the bags by the closet and turned down the blankets on the bed. She helped Azzi slip off her shoes and gently guided her onto the mattress. As Azzi curled onto her side, pulling her knees tight to her chest, Katie pulled the thick comforter up over her trembling shoulders, tucking her in securely.

For a moment, Katie just stood by the edge of the bed, looking down at her daughter. Azzi looked so incredibly young in the dim light, her eyelashes still wet, her face pale and spent.

Katie reached down, gently smoothing a stray curl away from Azzi's forehead.

"We’ll talk about what happened in the morning," Katie whispered, her voice soft and entirely devoid of judgment. "Just try to sleep now. I'm right down the hall."

She gave Azzi's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, turned off the bedside lamp, and quietly stepped out, closing the door behind her to let the quiet safety of home wrap around her broken daughter.

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