Chapter 87

For all that I've endured, there was no reason I should have come back to consciousness so quickly. But under the nothingness, there was one trigger, one bell, that managed to somehow ring my senses awake. One bell that I subconsciously begged to ring. And when that bell rang, when his voice reached me, I was lifted back to reality.

I wasn't able to make out his first words that were in hearing range. It was just the sound of his voice from several yards away. I heard the franticness, the panic, the emotion. I could hear again, think again, and sense my surroundings. Under my closed eyelids, my body lied limp and was swaying. I finally heard words as the voice – his voice - got closer.

"Is she okay? Albany, Albany!" came his panicked voice from a distance.

I swam towards that beautiful voice. Softer voices reached the air from yards away too, scolding him. Much closer to me were even footsteps, then a hushed voice. "He needs to stay quiet."

Wanting him, needing him so terribly, I opened my eyes. I was staring up at a dark night sky. The stars were mostly blocked by the massive trees slowly passing by. The branches were thinner and allowed moonlight in though. Enough light to see what was happening.

I was lying flat on a stretcher, being carried by two men through the woods. The men suddenly stopped carrying me, their steps against the nature floor pausing. Standing there, they turned their attention to where other fast footsteps approached and shuffled through leaves. "Sir, she'll be fine, calm down," one of the men whispered in annoyance.

The portable bed I was laying on shook slightly when the man rushed into sight, fell on his knees, and gripped the side of the stretcher. He stared down at me with desperate and wide green eyes.

He was alive.

The back of my head, my gunshot wounds, and my wrists all throbbed in pain. The sensation of my heart lurching through my chest took it all over. My straining eyes reached his and I gasped in surprise and emotion that I wasn't sure how to express. My man, my fucking man, was right here, with me, right now.

The moonlight offered everything I needed. His jawline and cheeks were covered in heavy stubble, his forehead crinkled, lips gasping. All framed sweetly by his wavy brown hair. "Fuck, fuck," he breathed, hovering over me. His rough but loving hands gingerly flew over me, but he hardly touched me out of fear. "Oh my god baby; baby, you're here," he said softly, voice breaking with wetness in his eyes.

The men were badgering him, protesting him, even grabbed his arm to move him back, but he shook them off. Despite scolding Luke, they did set the stretcher on the ground, allowing Luke to hover closer. He cupped my face, stroked my cheeks, and smiled softly through his tears.

Laying there, I was stunned for a few long seconds. Just staring up at him. I could hear my breath moving faster, my heart racing to keep up. Was this real? Was the man of my dreams really here, alive, and right before me? My chest ached harder and despite the awful zipping pain, I sat up, grabbed him with a grunt, and wrapped my arms tight around him. And guys... I was home. "You're alive," I whimpered through my breaking voice. I closed my eyes tightly. "You're alive."

His arms flew around me and held me tight, not realizing how hurt I was – and me not caring. "And you're alive," he whispered, ducking his head against me. His back and shoulders were shaking, but his muscular arms were tight around me. "You did it, baby," he whispered with a broken voice.

The men continued quietly scolding Luke. "She's been shot, she's hurt, you need to give her space," one of the men growled, putting him hand on Luke's shoulder again. This time, I think Luke registered what they were saying. "We need to keep moving."

Luke tried moving back, but I just held him tighter. "No, I don't care," I said into his strong shoulder, breathing him in. Breathing in his familiar musk, I allowed myself to get swallowed in the warmth. I couldn't believe this. I was alive. He was alive. I got to hold the man I loved and the man I had feared was dead.

It was such a huge contrast from what I just went through that it felt unreal, unnatural, and I wanted more. I wanted this forever. It was hard to believe that the rest of my life might not be limited to minutes or hours anymore.

His strong back under my hands began to shake harder. With his uneven breath against my neck, I knew he was silently crying. His arms offered so much love and warmth... something I didn't think I would feel again from him. Something I wanted so badly, wanted every second I was in that hell, and now... I had it. Jesus, I fucking had everything I'd ever want right here in my arms.

"Please. We aren't out of this yet, Mr. Prenta. We need to keep going," came the same voice.

He moved back slowly and cupped my face. Stroking my cheeks. Gently, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to mine. It was a soft kiss, but one that was filled with so much love. His lips on mine sent tingles through me, tingles that actually didn't accompany pain.

Lips detaching, he looked deep into my eyes. I couldn't believe this was real... and that I was this lucky. I couldn't believe this was happening right now. The reality of this incredible moment forced a small smirk out of me. "If I knew I'd be seeing you this soon, I would have put something on with a little less blood."

His gasping lips spread into a white and gorgeous smile that made my heart shake. "I'll forgive you this one time," he said in amusement through his loving wet eyes.

My stretcher shook and the men straightened it out and stood, signaling it was time to move. The distraction brought me back to the sharp pains all over my body. My head spun slightly, and Luke helped lay me back onto the portable bed. "I love you more than anything, baby. More than anything. Everything's going to be okay now."

My vision danced with dots again. I was about to go back under. Before I could though, I bit my lip and said, "I love you too. So much." Just as the two men started carrying me again, I smiled and added, "Which is why I'm going to need my ring back, sweetie."

***

I woke up in a hospital. I hate hospitals. Compared to everything I went through though, I could care less that I opened my eyes to monitors and IV bags. Hospitals, country music, even the name 'Morgan Honeywell' didn't sound as bad as it use to. Then again, who the fuck knows. I was probably as high as a kite right now.

Nobody was in the room when I first woke up. Which honestly was probably for the best. It gave me time to process (or try to process) the fact that I was alive. That Luke was alive. That somehow... I made it out of there. I mean come on guys; do you know how hard that was to believe? I actually... did it. I made it out and won. Looking around the room though, with the only music being the beeping heart monitor, it didn't feel like the winner's circle to me.

In fact, as the minutes passed, it was anything but a winner's circle. The room was small and white – very white. I wasn't free. I was restrained by IV's and needles in my arms. Looking down at myself and around the room... the steady beep of my heartrate picked up. Was this real? Was I actually in the real world? It was too white, too restrictive, too... good to be true. The bright white walls and bed were horrifically familiar. There was a window to my right, the glass streaming with rain, but was that real? Was it a taunting tease instead to get my hopes up? What if this was actually a hospital room in the institution? Did I hallucinate getting out? Did I?! I was breathing hard, looking all over. I was back there, I was in the institution! I—

The door on the far left of the room opened. The two men that stepped inside... put me at ease immediately. Not only put me at ease, but swarmed me in warmth and relief.

Francis was carrying a coffee, talking to the man who followed behind him. He cut himself off and froze when his eyes reached mine through his thick frames. "You're up," he grinned, but it was slightly reluctant. Setting his coffee down, he stood there awkwardly for a second. As if debating with himself. Then he sighed and quickly marched to the bed and bent down, wrapping his arms around me. "You okay? You need anything?" he asked, immediately letting go and stepping back after remembering I wasn't in the best shape.

I glanced from Francis to the man who followed behind him. It was Jackson. He looked to be in rough shape, with dark circles under his eyes. Seeing me though... he looked wide awake now. Hair slicked back, his jaw was tightly set. The sight of both of them gave me a sense of sureness. This was real. And... I was beyond grateful to see two of the people I thought I'd never see again.

I couldn't say anything. I just looked between them, soaking them in. I was out of that hell. However, there was plenty I didn't know – and it rushed me all at once. "You guys okay? Everybody alright?" The anxiousness of not knowing what happened to the institution, the deal with the FBI, any of what happened while I was in there. "Brooke is okay right? You're family is okay?" I asked Francis. Then I looked to Jackson. "You and Luke aren't going to get in any trouble, right? I kept my end of the deal and the FBI got there. They made direct contact with the institution—"

Jackson stepped quickly up to the bedside and looked down to me with Francis. "Everything is fine. Don't worry about anything, okay? It's all over. The only trouble anybody is in is this one for helping you go in that shithole," he said sharply, scowling towards Francis.

I had to refrain from laughing. I'm sure Luke and Jackson gave Francis absolute hell for helping me go behind their backs. I'm sure I still had a good bitch-out-session coming my way for handcuffing Luke too. Regardless, it was worth it. I traded myself for Brooke and got her home; I took down a disgusting cult, killed the leader, I— Oh my god, Hailey!

Cocking his head, Francis smirked down to me. "Yeah, they kicked my ass pretty good for that one." He turned and started heading towards the door. "Anyway. I'm going to get Luke and tell him you're up."

"Wait!" I nearly yelled, eyes wide from remembering the huge bombshell I was desperate to reveal. But when he turned back to me in worry... I couldn't speak. Not yet. There were a few concerning factors and I couldn't just blurt out this life-changing discovery I made. "Um, never mind, I'm good. I'm just... out of it," I chuckled.

Giving me a weird look, Francis left the room. Leaving me with Jackson. My father. Before I gave myself over to Reid and his fucked up system, I looked at Jackson with a level of disgust mixed with respect. I wasn't sure how to feel about him, now knowing what specifically he was a part of before. I did know one thing though: he wasn't emotionally invested in Hailey. I could tell him.

"I need to tell you something. I'm not sure if anyone knows yet," I said softly.

He wasn't too invested in my words. He was distracted and looked conflicted. Awkwardly, he pulled a chair up to the left side of the bed and sat down. "Nothing matters. Just you. You're alright and..." he sighed, looking away from my eyes. "I can't describe to you how proud I am of you."

He wasn't good with displaying how he felt, especially because of our rocky relationship. I was the same way. It was awkward, but honestly, hearing him say that... it felt better than I wanted to admit. "Thank you," I mumbled. "But this is really important. Does Luke and his family know about... Mike? Did anyone find that paper I had in my shirt pocket?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There was nothing found or revealed about Mike being connected to all this?"

He sat back in his chair. "What? No," he looked at me like I was stupid. I wish I was.

I looked between the door, which was still shut, and Jackson. I knew I didn't have much time, but I didn't know what to do about the information I had. Well, about the information regarding Mike anyway. I would have to talk to Jackson about that later though. "Does Luke at least know about his sister? Do they know Hailey was in there? Did the FBI find her and the other girls yet?"

Jackson's confused expression was answer enough – and would have to be enough for now anyway. Before he could answer, the door opened. Luke marched into the room with purpose, making my heart leap. He knew nothing about Hailey – or his dad's involvement. The part about Mike... I would keep to myself until I know more or talk to Jackson about it. But the fact that I found his sister to begin with, I was so anxious to tell him! So ready, I wanted to sing it, and give him the relief he has needed for all these years.

Luke moved to the other side of the bed and leaned in, giving me the biggest hug he could without hurting me. He sat down on the side of the bed, still holding me. "Albany," he whispered shakily, kissing the side of my head gently. "I'm so glad you're up, it's been nearly two days, baby. Are you okay?" he asked, almost in a scared voice, holding me tighter. "How do you feel?"

"I'm alright," I nodded. And I was. I didn't feel the same pain, or the level of it, as I did before. The little movement I've made since waking up resulted only in soreness. "Better than before."

He stroked my hair softly as he held me. "I need to tell you... I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry we didn't get you out of there and get there sooner. I'm so sorry," he whispered against my ear.

"Luke, I have something to tell you. Been wanting to tell you ever since...." Ever since I met her and realized who she was.

Leaning back, I saw his green eyes were slightly wet. We both were still processing the fact that I was back, alive, and fine. But I couldn't go a second longer without telling him, especially because I had no idea what all happened and where she was right now. Clearing his voice, he asked, "What is it?"

I paused. This was... beyond life-changing. This needed to be private. "Jackson, can we talk later? I need a minute with Luke."

Glancing to where he was sitting in the chair, he met my eyes, looking almost stunned. Probably from basically revealing to him that I found Hailey. He nodded, stood, and left the room. Now, it was Luke's turn to learn the truth.

Sitting up further in the hospital bed, I took both his hands in mine. "I... I met someone while I was in there. And the chances of this were so slim, but this was set up to happen."

He nodded in encouragement. "Alright...."

"I found her. I found Hailey."

He stared at me, eyebrows slowly raising. Other than that, his expression remained unmoving. "What?"

"Yeah.... I found your sister. I fucking found her, Luke. She's alive."

***

When I revealed the information about Hailey... Luke was stunned, shocked, and shook up. Panicky too. According to him, the FBI was still sorting everything out at the institution, including all the brainwashed girls discovered there. Some men got away, dragging a few girls with them. Most did not get away though by the time the FBI intervened. Which made the chance of actually getting Hailey back more promising.

Luke wasted no time and got on the phone. Shook to his core, he called one of the agents sorting everything out at the institution. By the time that phone call ended, Luke was a mess. The agent told him that his sister, Hailey, was in fact still there.

They actually, truly... had her.

As you can expect, from that confirmation, Luke broke down hard. It was a painful and beautiful sight. The weight of his sister's absence started to lift from his shoulders and it's all I wanted for him. It's what he's needed for most of his life. He could finally have some closure. Some.

Though she was found, most of her life was spent as a brainwashed servant. Luke blamed himself for her going missing. He would always feel guilty for that – until he finds out the truth. The truth about Mike. And the second he learns the truth, has that relief, his spirit will be crushed.

However, I learned I didn't even have the full truth.

Luke, completely a mess after that phone call, rushed off to find Francis and call the rest of his family. Full of anxiousness and excitement to share the news about his alive and found sister. A few seconds after the door shut behind him, it opened again.

It was a man I didn't recognize. Immediately, my heart spiked in panic. Who was this? What did they want? Did they just let fucking anybody in here, the idiots?! I didn't have any protection, a gun—

"Miss. Higgins," he said, nodding to me. "I'm Agent Hoffle with the FBI. Do you have a moment?" He was an older slender gentleman, with short greying hair. He was in a blue raincoat, with droplets still clinging to it. Guess he wasn't here to kill me.

Sighing, I sat up more against the pillows behind me. "Well, being in the hospital, I do have a busy schedule. I was just about to go for a run, but I guess I can wait," I said, humoring myself. My smirk froze at the sight of what was in his hand: a manila folder.

Finding his eyes, he neared me and sat down in the chair next to my bed. "I apologize for bringing this up. I'm sure you are still trying to adjust being back with your loved-ones. I have a hunch though that something is weighing on you," he said, sliding a sheet of paper out from the folder. He held it up to me. The creased paper, stained with a few red spots, was the document I snagged from the Prenta file. "Do you recognize this?"

Well... I guess it didn't just randomly fall out of my pocket. I also guess I didn't just imagine the whole thing. Honestly, I would prefer that over this being real. I felt sick and nodded. "I grabbed it from Reid's file room. Did you guys search that yet? There was a whole room of files and one—"

"We have obtained most of the paperwork and documentation in that room, but this will be a long investigation. After finding this on you though, we... were motivated to examine the file you took this from." He paused, setting the document and the folder on the table next to my bed. Glancing back to me, he sighed. "Are you aware of Mike Prenta's work?"

"Not really. He goes out of town for business a lot and he is really successful. But..." I shook my head, feeling a lot of pent up frustration want to reach the surface. "But he's just the nicest, sweetest, guy and a better father to me than my real one. I-I don't get how he could do this, but then again, I've learned you can't trust anyone, even yourself and your opinions and instincts."

His light brows dipped, making a clear outline of his nose and eyes. Sitting back, he folded his arms. "I don't think we are talking about the same person."

"Oh yeah? How many fucking Mike Prentas' would apply in this situation?" I sneered.

He grabbed the paper he set down and extended it, offering it for me to take. "Two."

"What?"

"The Mike you are referring to... is the son of Michael Prenta Sr. who was an entrepreneur late in life." I grabbed the paper and looked over it. What the hell...? There was no indication that this was Mike's dad, but he sounded sure. "Read the print. It details the contract, the terms, the amount, and includes who it's for – a Mr. Michael B. Prenta. Just because his signature doesn't distinguish him from his son, it's in the print."

Sure enough... it did. Still, how could I believe this? Luke's grandpa, not the Mike I know, was the one who signed this? I looked up at him, stunned. "How do you know this for sure? You have to have more sources."

"I do. The dates, the times, and family history. Not to get wrapped up in details at the moment, but Mike Sr. created a shipping company that did poorly for many years. He and his business always struggled to stay above water. Until suspiciously it became a huge success. And it happened within a year of this document being signed." He looked to the folder he set aside. "The Mike you know didn't get involved in the business until years after it was already a huge success. We have no evidence indicating that he knew anything about this."

I shook my head, letting the paper fall to my lap against the white covers. "How did he not know? His dad's business – his business – was built on dirty money and he doesn't know? Doesn't know that this freak sold his granddaughter?"

The man shrugged and hummed a note of amusement. "By the time Hailey was born, his dad had died from a stroke. From what I've collected, he and his father were no more than business partners. You'll have to ask him for more personal details. I only have facts."

I closed my eyes and sagged back against the propped bed. Yup, I'll go ask him about it, no problem. Sure, after Luke reveals to Mike that his daughter is found, I'll grab the phone and share something a little more twisted about why his daughter went missing in the first place! What the hell?

"Well..." I sighed, dragging my hands down my face. "It sounds terrible, but that does make me feel better." It was a selfish thing to be happy about. After all, it still happened. She was still sold by her family. I just kept thinking that it wasn't Mike (the Mike I know) and because of that, the Prenta family might be alright. "I have to say though, it's still hard to believe. I mean Reid told me, even Hailey was certain—"

"Albany, I'm not your therapist. But I can ask you to be logical and remember that place ran on nothing more than lies. She was manipulated; he mastered manipulation."

"You reminded me of why I hate therapists," I snapped. I wasn't fucking retarded.

The man stood, as if spending another minute here would be a waste of time. You know what, fine. I didn't want to see his stupid face anymore either. Before he left though, his eyes offered a sense of care. "This was a lot to wake up to. You just worry about yourself, okay? The reason I'm here is actually to break the news about Mike Sr. and his involvement. I plan on pulling Luke and Francis aside soon. So don't let this weigh on you anymore."

Ironically, all the chaos that has happened since I woke up... was basically a vacation. This weight he spoke of acted as welcoming distractions. Luke informed his family about Hailey. That was off my chest. I learned Mike really had nothing to do with his daughter going missing. That was off my mind. And it was all a little... too good to be true.

A few hours had past. The rain drops on the fourth story window of my room continued pelting softly. The small clock next to some flowers on my windowsill read 8:34. About an hour ago, Luke explained he and Francis were meeting with someone to talk about something crucial. So, while they were both currently receiving the news about their family's sketchy past, I sat here. In this bed. Alone. Perfectly alive and breathing. It bothered the fuck out of me.

My eyes kept sweeping the room. Ending up usually at the closed door. Anyone could just walk in. Anyone could just walk into the hospital, go up an elevator, and enter my room. The only upside to that would be ordering pizza and guess what, I tried that earlier, and it apparently 'wasn't allowed.' Instead, I needed to eat controlled portions, mainly on their watch, and I couldn't go anywhere. Sound familiar folks?

I was a sitting duck. Extremely weak. Vulnerable. I suppose it was fitting. I was weak, I wasn't good enough. Though they said I will be out in a few days, even though I can walk perfectly fine, I wasn't good enough to be allowed to do that. Yet, here I was. For fucking anybody to come in and kill. Even the dumbest killers out there would have an easy time. Thanks to my paper wristband, my name and all my information was free to see.

The beeping of my heart monitor only got more erratic – which made me even more conscious of my antsy state. I just needed something. I needed a gun. I was completely worthless and weak, but my god, I couldn't stomach sitting here. Sitting here and not moving. Either I'm going on a walk, eating some fucking pizza, or I'm getting a damn gun.

Reaching to the side of the bed I reclined up, I rang the buzzer for assistance. A few moments later, my nurse stepped in. She had curly hair and beautiful facial features, which reminded me of a certain someone who did a shit job of raising me. With a set frown in place, she sighed. "Yes?"

I smiled. I liked the thought of a Clare look-alike serving me. Especially because she was clearly fed-up with my bullshit already. "Do you know where a fella named Jackson could be? He's in his 40s, one very ugly fucker. A little intense and creepy too."

She was trying to keep her cool with me. I felt bad, but you can't blame me. She shut me down for pizza, she refused to let me walk around unsupervised, and she had nothing to offer as entertainment besides some stupid puzzle. Taking a long deep breath, she said evenly, "I'll do my best to find him. Anything else?"

"Nope."

It was the first time she actually did what I requested. Even still, Jackson wasn't much of a prize to begin with. I will say though that when he walked in... my chest untightened, and I could breathe a little easier. Instead of sitting in the chair, he perched himself on the edge of the bed, facing me. "If you're going to ask me to go on a pizza or Burger King run again, you can forget it."

I rolled my eyes, sitting further up and propping my back against the reclined bed. "Do you have any fucking idea what I went through? How deprived I was of food? I ate once a day."

"That is why you need to control your eating. Did you have dinner with Reid each time?"

"Yeah, why?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, like there was nothing innocent little him could do about it. "Then you experienced some kickass fine dining."

He wasn't wrong. His attempt at humor though only reminded me of his past. "That's right, you were one of them." From what I went through, it made me sick. Sure it was in the past, but it still happened. Eyes staring up into his, I narrowed them and kept speaking. "So I'm sure you know every little thing that happened to me?"

His eyes dropped. He wasn't an emotional man, but the amount of sadness and heartache that was in his eyes was something I couldn't un-see. It was... different. "No. I can't imagine. You being the focus of it all... I'm sure it was worse." He bit the inside of his bottom lip and inhaled sharply. "Do you know I would have rather died, would still rather die, than have you experience that place?"

Talking about the hell I endured wasn't what made me change the subject. It was seeing the emotion build in him. "Jackson, I need a gun. I need something. You don't get it, you don't understand. I'm just... sitting here. Not as Peggy, not as Morgan, but as Albany. I'm publicly here and stuck in a fucking bed. If you don't get me out of this hospital, or give me a fighting chance, I'm going to snap!" I hissed. Not sure when my hands turned into fists, but they did and were shaking in my lap.

His eyes were calm and controlled, as if what I was stressing was nothing. Meant nothing. I couldn't blame him. "Albany, who is going to come in here, looking to kill you?"

"Someone will. Doesn't matter who, but someone will."

He leaned forward, grabbing one of my shaky fists. "You're safe. I'm here. And... lover boy is here to protect you too," he mumbled.

"I can protect myself. If you want me to sleep and feel safe, then I want a gun."

He didn't get me a gun.

Instead of a gun, he left the room to get me a snack from the cafeteria downstairs. From the moment he left my room, all I could wonder was would I still be alive when he gets back. There is no way, no way, I made it out of that institution and will just have a happy fucking life. Nope, this wasn't done.

I got up carefully, slid the needles out of me, and unhooked myself from the monitors. Though I was sore and still hurting, like magic, I could breathe better. I wasn't their animal, their pet, their bitch. I wouldn't be dressed like one either and discarded the hospital gown. Luke said he had a duffle bag of clothes for me once I'm discharged and I dug through it. I threw on a sweater, jeans, and with desperation, I tied my hair up in a tight bun. That helped me from bursting at the seams by the time I slid on shoes and quickly left the room.

Unfortunately, the cafeteria wasn't far enough away. Quickly walking down towards the elevator, a rough hand on my arm stopped me. Jackson whipped me around to face him. It made the side of my head ache and I winced before groaning. "Ten minutes. Ten fucking minutes I want outside! That's all!"

He scrunched his nose in annoyance. Tightening his grip, he hauled me back towards my room. "I'm sorry, Albany, but you made it this far. You can handle a hospital." Just like that, we were back in the room. The tight, small, white, clean, cage of a room.

"But I can't! I want to wear what I want to wear. I want to sleep where I want to sleep and I want to fucking eat and not starve! I'm right back where I started," I said, shouting up into his face. "I want out of here by tomorrow, you got it? Not in a few days, tomorrow. Or I'll fuck you up like you used to do to those poor little girls!"

I think that last little bit struck a nerve. He didn't say a word to me. He calmly called the nurse in, set down the tray of pudding, and left. By the time I was hooked back up to everything, I was beyond livid, but there was nothing I could do. I just... internally shook. That's the only way I could describe it. I sat there, laid there, and tried the keep the shaking from reaching the surface.

It was about an hour later. Luke wasn't back yet. I could only imagine the pain they were going through, learning about everything with Hailey. When the door opened, I thought it was him. Surprisingly, it was Jackson.

Nothing was said. He stepped inside, shut the door, and walked right up to the side of the bed. I didn't move from where I was laying on my side and just watched him, disgust slowly building in my bones. Then, he reached behind him and pulled out something from his waist. It was a gun. He slid it under the covers and out of sight before heading towards the door.

I sat up and watched him near the door. "Hey...."

He turned and raised a brow. His voice was much softer. "I'll be ten feet away in the waiting room. No target practice, no Russian Roulette, no shooting the nurse. Okay?"

I chuckled under my breath. "Okay," I said, laying back down. Tucking the gun under one of my pillows, I turned my attention to the TV. Which finally, thanks to the gun, I could focus on without feeling panic.

I had a feeling it would be temporary though. This was the first day awake. A lot happened, but honestly, I still knew hardly anything. I didn't know shit about what was to come, didn't know what happened while I was in there, and didn't tell anyone yet what really happened. Though those questions would provide a good distraction... I felt almost like I needed to be content with today. Because in my gut, and in my unstable head, I knew this was just the start of restarting everything.

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I loved writing this chapter! Loved bringing back the men that we've missed so much and its nice to focus on other things. Like rebuilding life and the struggles she has now. Anyway, let me know what you guys think! We're almost there, but there's still a little bit to go!