"SELECTIVE Mutism," I state. "That is the name of your condition, according to the information you have presented me."

"Wait what?" Sommer questions. "I have a disease?" Her expression alights with confusion, the dim lighting casting shadows across her face.

My digital clock reads 4:00 AM. Never have I seen hours this early. I am beginning to feel the effects of my lack of sleep, the adrenaline drained from my body.

"It is an anxiety disorder," I continue, restraining a yawn. "A strand of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, in which an individual who is normally capable of speech does not speak in specific situations. I have studied it only briefly."

"Oh." Her glance remains low. "I didn't realize it was a thing."

"I feel privileged," I smile at her. "that you have chosen to confide in me."

Sommer leans her head against my shoulder, pulling the bedsheets over both of us.

Her hair is further darkened in the minimal light, tangled and spread across her face and neck like the feathers of a wild raven in flight, allowing insecurities drift to the ground below her as she confidently soars. I see this freedom in Sommer I have never seen before, this ultimate happiness radiating from her being. She knows she is free, for she has nothing left to hide. I can hardly see her face in the dark, but still, I see this glow emitting from her person.

"What is that?" she whispers, stiffening. I look at her in confusion. "That sound!" The alarm in her voice concerns me.

I listen closely, hearing a slight shuffling in the hall. Before I am able to react, the door is opened and two bodies enter. Sommer and I remain frozen in shock. The intruders' faces are dark and unrecognizable.

"Metro? Is that you?" a deep raspy voice that is unmistakably Jagger's speaks from the end of the room.

A sudden relief washes over me, quickly distinguished as I contemplate how he was able to enter this institution at such early hours. The dark figures come closer to us, noting that Sommer and I are sitting on my bed together, close under the ruffled sheets.

"What the fuck is going on," Jagger speaks slowly, bitterly. His face remains dark in the dim lighting.

"Oh shit." The other figure steps beside him, clearly the voice of Titus.

"Metro I am going to fucking kill you," Jagger speaks quietly, great hostility in his voice. "I told you not to touch her. I fucking warned you."

"Oh shut up Jagger," Sommer responds, throwing the sheets across the bed to reveal our fully-clothed bodies. "I'm not a baby."

Jagger stands silently. Although he does not speak and I am unable to view his expression, I can feel the heat of his anger expelling from his silhouette.

"Oh. I see how it is." He stiffens his posture, speaking with bitter sarcasm. "Now he's good enough to talk to. The purebred who took advantage of us and left us on our asses is now your fucking boyfriend."

I am quickly able to see through Jagger's act. He is unaware of Sommer's extensive knowledge that I am responsible for. A feeling of deep guilt swells throughout my abdomen. I rub my forehead in stress.

"Jagger it's not like that," Sommer pleads. "Metro just did that to protect us!"

We are all silent for many moments. I feel Jagger's eyes on me. He sighs heavily.

"Jagger..." Titus approaches him. "Sommer just showed up here. I don't think Metro had much of a choice."

"I know, I know," Jagger speaks softly. He turns, pressing his forehead and hands against the wall.

"I am heartily sorry, all the same," I add quietly, keeping my head low.

"What?" Sommer's glance alternates between both parties. "Jagger what's going on? What did you know?"

"It's nothing Sommer."

"You're always leaving me out of things. Tell me!" she cries.

"Shhh!" Titus hushes her. "I know we're already fucked, but if we wake someone we'll be even more fucked," he whispers.

"I knew what Metro was doing all along," Jagger speaks quietly.

"What?" Sommer rises, approaching him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid you'd do this," he continues, continuing to face the wall. "Try and contact him. But I guess you did anyway."

Sommer clenches her fists.

"Jagger sometimes you make me so mad," she speaks bitterly, voice trembling. "I'm not stupid. I can take care of myself," she says coldly. "Why won't you look at me?"

"Sommer I don't think you understand how dangerous this situation is." Titus gently takes her arm in an attempt to lead her away from Jagger. She tears from his grip.

"Jagger look at me." She walks to the door and turns on the main light. "Hiding in the dark like this is silly. It's not like I haven't seen you cry before. I'm not stupid. I know things. I deserve to know what's going on. You can't just--" Jagger faces her and she is silent. We are all silent. Sommer's expression fills with horror.

A large bruise has formed around Jagger's eye, the deep purples and blues consuming the left side of his face. His right cheek has been cut, blood dried over scratches as though clawed. His face has swollen, eyes bloodshot. His eyebrow piercing has been torn from its place, leaving a large gash where the hole once was. A fresh cigarette burn marks the edge of his jaw beneath his right ear.

"Jagger..." Sommer speaks softly. "What happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," he replies, avoiding her eyes.

"You don't get in fights." She walks to him slowly. "Please don't lie to me anymore."

She approaches him, inspecting his wounds.

"Is this from a cigarette?" She lightly touches the circular scars that dot his neck and back as though they were freckles. "You have more here. Older ones..."

In her eyes I see the pieces connecting; the realization of her mother's abuse has finally reached her. As I stare critically into her expression, I see something die in Sommer's eyes, as though a part of her has been torn off and destroyed, never to return. In her eyes, I can see Sommer's heart shatter.

Jagger looks to the floor in shame. Sommer looks as though she could scream.

"No..." she hardly manages to mutter.

Sommer stares at her brother in disbelief, begging him to return her eye contact, to tell her that the conclusion she has come to is false. But Jagger does not speak. Sommer, the wild,
flying raven, has lost her freedom. Her wings have been taken from her.

"Mom was looking for you," Jagger speaks, hardly audible. "She got mad when I said I didn't know where you were."

Sommer begins to breathe heavily, tears spilling down her cheeks unceasingly. She swallows heavily, stifling a loud cry into a harsh exhale of breath.

"No Jagger, no..." She shakes her head. "Why would you let her do that?" she manages to speak. "You're stronger than she is," she says angrily. "You're stronger than she is!"

She begins hyperventilating, her expression filled with every emotion; anger, desperation, pure and utter despair. Titus gently takes her and brings her to the bed. She sits, collapsing her face into her arms and sobbing on her lap. Jagger stands solemnly, reaching to rub his forehead, visibly trembling.

"This is all my fault. This is all my fault." She continues bawling, curling her body into a spherical position.

"Sommer, just take it easy." Titus sits beside her, placing a comforting arm across her back. "Nothing's your fault. You didn't know."

"I was too stupid to know," she cries. "I was too stupid to see what was going on."

"Shh..." Titus rubs her back gently.

"I could just die right now," she speaks between sobs.

"Don't talk like that. We're gonna get through this. All of us," Titus whispers. "It'll be alright."

He glances back at me, an expression of concern masking him. Jagger looks to me also, wearing a similar mask. Titus reaches out and takes his hand.

"We're a strong group, the four of us," Titus adds.

"That we are," I respond in agreement.

We must be.