I opened my eyes to a stark white ceiling, different from the walls of the wooden shack I grew accustomed to over the years. I turned to my side, expecting the long, silky strands of Ethan's hair to be tangled in my fingers and provide comfort. Instead, a thick gauze bandage around my hand prevented my fingers from moving at all.

Then the memory hit me like a ton of bricks. Thoughts of Ethan, Owen, Judith and Amanda swamped my mind. They were gone. However, watching the steady drip, drip, drip of liquid slowly slip into my veins through the IV in my arm took my mind off the past and firmly anchored me in the present.

A woman in medical scrubs walked in the room, disrupting my thoughts. "How are you feeling?" She looked down at the notebook sized tablet in her hand.

I studied her, taking in her smile and friendly behavior. Although I wanted to, I didn't trust it. "Where am I?"

"You're at Copper Springs. One of Arizona's mental health facilities." She smiled although I could make out the concern. "You were transferred from St. Joseph's Medical Center. Do you know why you're here?"

I shook my head. "Why?"

"You were missing a couple of fingers and experiencing a major psychosis when you arrived at the other hospital. So, you were brought here to recover and for a mental evaluation. How's the pain?"

"Oh, um. Not too bad." Confusion took over all sense of worry.

"Good. We have you on a low dosage of an opioid analgesic for pain." She moved to the side of my bed, looking down into my eyes. "I'm a resident here. You can call me Dr. Shelby. Do you know your name?"

"Allison."

"Do you have a last name?"

If I told her my last name, was it possible for her to discover what Ethan and I had left behind four years ago? If they investigated Allison Lynn Bryson's past they'd link me directly to Mr. Bryson. So today I am ... "Allison Smith." 

Allison Smith was a girl looking for her remaining family and didn't experience the sudden and devastating loss of everything she had known for the last few years.

She nodded. "Ok, Allison. Do you suffer from a history of self-harm?"

"Self-harm?" I shook my head.

"How about a history of using illegal drugs or stimulants?"

"You think I hurt myself?"

"Did you?" She stared at me, attentively waiting for my answer. When I didn't say anything, she moved on. "How did you get your injuries?"

"I—" I couldn't speak.

She gave me a suspicious glance, but quickly replaced it with a neutral gaze. "How about a history of eating disorders?"

She was asking too many questions, going too deep. "I don't feel good right now."

"I understand." She tapped the back of my uninjured hand to comfort me. "You have the name and number of a family member we can contact on your behalf?"

I didn't know how to answer. "Please..."

"Okay." She nodded. "We'll get you some lunch and let you rest, and then we'll try this again later. Sounds good?"

I nodded. "Thanks."

"In the meantime, you're allowed to walk around this floor. We recommend it for exercise and to prevent blood clots, just be sure to take the IV pole with you." She smiled, cradled her tablet, and left the room.

Quickly, I threw the sheet aside and sat forward. The flimsy gown hung from my shoulders and nearly met my ankles. My body ached with sudden movements, so I slowly stood. I gripped the IV pole and rolled it beside me as I left the room, using it as support.

A few nurses sat behind the horseshoe shaped desk in the center of the room, none seemed to hold much interest in me as they talked amongst themselves.

I slowly made my way to the end of the hall where security doors remained closed. A sign on the window read: Authorized personnel only. Door is to remain closed and locked at all times. 

A uniformed security guard stood on the other side, his back against the window. I turned and nearly bumped into a girl wearing the same flimsy hospital gown.

"Oh, sorry." I stepped aside.

"That's alright." She smiled, showing a row of nice bright teeth that matched her porcelain skin. "What happened to your hand?"

"An accident." I studied her. She looked a bit older than me by a couple years with no physical injuries.

"You know why you're here?" She watched me as if she understood or sensed my confusion. "They think you're crazy. So they're gonna do a bunch of tests and ask you a lot of questions to figure out if you are. If they determine you're sane, they'll release you. But most of the people here aren't. You don't look crazy at all. You look like you just need a friend."

"Thank you." I smiled. "You don't look crazy either."

"Thanks."  Her dark, straight hair dangled from a ponytail atop her head. "What's your name?"

"Allison."

She nodded. "Call me Mesa."

"Mesa? That's an interesting name."

"My father named me after the flat-top mountains of Arizona. He found them the most beautiful thing nature has created."

"That's sweet. Where's your father now? Why hasn't he gotten you from this place?"

"He's dead." She dropped her gaze. "I—I killed him."

My jaw dropped. "You killed—"

"At least that's what they said. I tied him to the bed and burned ..." She didn't look up from her feet. "They're trying to fix me. They're gonna fix me."

I closed my mouth and slowly nodded. "I'm so sorry." It was easy to recognize the guilt and confusion on her face. Pain and years of suffering was written in every inch of her body language. "Seems like we both come from messed up families."

She looked up and I couldn't ignore the sorrow in her eyes. "Maybe we can be friends? I could really use a friend right now. And I'd like to learn more about you."

"Sure." I smiled, seeing her relief with my enthusiasm. "I'd like to get to know more about you too."

"Good." She watched me for a second before turning and walking back down the hall.

I cautiously followed, nearing the nurse's station where the television sounded and caught my ear:

"Here's the latest on the  recent fire in southern Colorado's San Juan National Forest. Authorities have recently rescued a badly injured young man inside the burnt structure in the center of the forest. The man looks to be in his late teens and is in critical condition. He's been rushed to the nearest hospital for treatment. No word on the injuries sustained."

I gasped and pressed my back to the wall to keep from collapsing from shock as I listened. The news was talking about the shack, our shack, our secluded home. I stared ahead as the broadcaster continued.

"As we reported earlier today, firefighters were called to a huge blaze in the national forest, and when a helicopter was sent out for an aerial view, they discovered some sort of structure amid the blaze. The fire was successfully tamed. Upon further investigation, one survivor was discovered in a hole beneath the smoldering structure. Apparently, he had slipped inside the hole to escape the burning flames."

I brought my hand to my mouth and tears spilled over my lids and down my face. Ethan was alive. My beloved brother was alive!

"The purpose of the structure is still unknown, but authorities suspect someone had illegally built it to serve as a sort of shelter, equipped with a pit toilet that ended up saving this young man's life. Now, the cause of the fire is still unknown, but in a gruesome turn of events, the bodies of three teenaged girls had been found in the nearby ice capped lake.

The female victims have yet to be identified.

Surprisingly, it was the discovery of two severed fingers near the structure that prompted the investigation of the nearby lake. Police found a recently made opening chiseled from the frozen lake. In the opening, the body of one of the three teenaged girls were uncovered. Cause of death is still unknown. But as police continue to search for information in this bizarre case, they're waiting to speak with the man found in the pit who remains in critical condition but is expected to fully recover. We'll bring you more news as it unfolds."

I sobbed, unable to hold it in anymore. I looked up at the nurse's station to see each of them staring at me, wide-eyed. One of them slowly made her way toward me, while another picked up the phone on the desk and dialed.

A sense of relief hit me and I smiled through the tears. Ethan was alive, he was going to survive. No more hiding. No more secrets. No matter the outcome, all that currently mattered was knowing he was going to be okay. And as long as he's by my side, we could and would survive anything.

?

How do you feel about the events that unfolded? Is there something more you'd like to know? Would you like the story to continue in a new book, possibly from another's perspective? 

Thanks so much for the support, votes, comments, and reads! <3

Also, take a peek at Passing the Torch (here on Wattpad and Amazon) if you haven't already. ;)