Harry's POV

That night I lay restlessly in bed, my thoughts focusing on Phoenix and how she had changed. What could I do? What could I do to make her go back to the way she was? Balling my fists up, I knew I couldn't just lay about and wait for something to happen. I had to do it myself.

Sneaking through the corridors, I ran my fingers over the walls as I walked, eyes half closed as I planned out what I would say to her. I had been too brash and upfront before, maybe I had even scared her. I needed to take a different approach if I wanted to find out anything about what had happened to her.

Sensing that I was drawing close to her room, I took a deep breath and reminded myself to be understanding with Phoenix. She had probably been through things that I couldn't ever comprehend, and she was hurting inside. She needed someone to lean on, someone to hold her as her world came crashing down.

I would be that person.

She opened the door before I even had a chance to knock, almost as if she could sense me from inside her room. There was a sadness in her eyes that I had missed earlier on, and she fell into my arms. Stroking her hair, I held her in the dark corridor as she buried her head into my chest. Her silhouette was illuminated by the moon's rays that swallowed her room.

Shuffling inside, I laid her down on her bed where she hugged her knees and stared at me with huge eyes. She reminded me of a child in that moment: vulnerable, scared and waiting for me to tell her what to do. Closing my eyes, I pieced together what I should say.

"Phoenix. Just tell me," I whispered to her, moving a piece of hair that was covering her face.

"They did things. They said things. Smith told me not to say. Not to worry you," she choked out, tears welling in her eyes and I stroked her cheek comfortingly.

"What did they do?"

"Too many things. Things I don't want to remember. You can understand that? Harry, please just hold me. No more questions. I don't want to tell you more lies," her words were disjointed, and her eyes still couldn't meet mine.

But I obeyed her wish and just sat with her in silence as she feel asleep in my arms; my little fairy's eyes closing and opening as she fought sleep pathetically. I was in paradise. She was back with me, her body next to mine as I guarded her from the horrors of the outside world. While I couldn't guess what had happened to her, I could still protect her from it.

I'm sure that had Phoenix been in a calmer state of mind, she would have told me leave. That she didn't need me to look over her like a guardian angel. But even those who are strong need someone to take the weight of their troubles at times.

Once she was asleep, I carefully moved her limbs off me and stood up. Admiring her for a moment, I watched as the moonlight streaming through the window played on her cheeks, the way the soft light seemed to blanket her in this ethereal glow. I left when I could pull myself away from her beauty, and stood in the corridor for a moment breathing heavily.

All I could see was rage. I was angry that Smith had put her through something like that, furious at a system that didn't care about its patients, and fuming that I could do nothing about it. No one was patrolling the corridors that night, the nurses all secretly sleeping in the staffroom or wherever was out of sight, so I was able to walk by myself without being questioned.

My feet made their way to the reception, and I stared at the double doors for a moment. Outside the sky was pitch black, and only a few cars littered the car park. I could have run, sprinted out of those doors and nobody would have been any the wiser. People would only find out the morning after, and by then I would be long gone.

But I couldn't leave Phoenix in that dump, not before I knew what was happening to her. She needed me, and I knew in my heart that I couldn't walk out those doors guilt- free. Instead I made my way into the receptionist's office which was never locked.

Idly I fiddled with the things cluttering her desks, opening drawers and shifting through unimportant looking papers. Tracing the outline of the filing cabinet, I was anxious to know what the files inside contained. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave patient information in the reception, would they?

Opening the first drawer my excitement dulled as I was greeted by piles and piles of bills and money transactions, none of them fuelling my desire to know all the secrets about the place. As I glanced down at them, I noticed that every month a significant amount of money was being placed into an unnamed account.

"Well that's odd," I whispered to myself, my fingers running underneath the numbers as I read them.

In all the other bank transactions made by the centre a named person was either printed on the document or scribbled in the receptionist's handwriting. These documents however had no name attached to them. Every month thousands of pounds were being invested in this one bank account, and I scratched my head trying to work out what it could be used for.

Maybe I was overthinking it, but I had no clue what the centre could have been investing in. As I thought long and hard, standing in my pyjamas in the moonlight, my mind began to conjure up pictures of Smith. How he always wore expensive clothing, the newest watches and he was perfectly groomed all the time. I had even glimpsed at his car when he had driven to the airport for that infamous trip, and that too was impressive.

Surely he couldn't be living a life that luxurious by working as a therapist? It couldn't have been fraud, because the whole centre was in on it- even the witless receptionist.

Reclining back in the office chair I had seated myself in, I looked around at the welcome room that looked permanently depressing, and wondered what was going on in the place. Suddenly it didn't feel so much like home.

Ooohhh has Harry just uncovered some secrets about the centre? Will Harry and Phoenix be able to be friends again?

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