The darkness in the room felt thicker than usual, as if it absorbed every trace of light that might have given the space a semblance of life. Aliza stood motionless, a gun in her hand, her breath shallow and ragged. It seemed as though the world had stopped, and the only thing that existed was her and the person before her—curled up on the floor, trembling hands outstretched in a pleading gesture.

— Please... — a voice rasped, hoarse and filled with despair. — Don't do this...

Aliza didn't respond. The words reached her as though through a thick fog, distant and unreal. Her finger rested lightly on the trigger, while her thoughts spiraled into chaos. She knew what she had to do. She knew there was no choice. She tried to focus, fixing her gaze on the empty wall behind the crouched figure. Don't look at him, she told herself. Just don't look into his eyes. But those eyes were everywhere, even when she closed her own.

— If you don't do it, you know what's waiting for you. — Her boss's cold, soulless voice echoed in her mind. A voice that had taught her one thing over the years: disobedience meant pain.

— Child... — another pleading word, terrified and powerless, broke through the silence.

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress any emotion within herself. She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot tore through the air. It was loud, sharp, final. But before she could even comprehend what she had done, the echo of past gunfire merged with the present reality.

...

She opened her eyes, and a bright light exploded above her head. The boom of fireworks filled the air, cutting through her memory. Her heart pounded wildly, and the air seemed too heavy to breathe. Aliza wiped her forehead with her hand, trying to steady the trembling. But it wasn't over. Every subsequent explosion, every burst of light in the sky, only pulled her deeper into what she was trying to bury in the depths of her mind.

Aliza stood motionless, staring at the fireworks bursting in the sky. Each new blast made her body tense further, as if invisible forces were trying to crush her from within. The world around her ceased to exist; all that remained was the sound—explosions, cracks, reminiscent of rifle fire. She felt the ground slipping from beneath her feet. Her hands began to shake, her breathing turned shallow and rapid. Her vision blurred; she no longer saw the flickering lights. Everything came rushing back—the room, the scream, the echo of the gunshot still reverberating in her mind.

— Aliza? — someone's voice cut through the noise, but it was too distant, too faint to recognize.

Suddenly, her legs buckled under the weight of the memories. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the booming noise that resounded in her head like a barrage of gunfire. Jack saw her first. He ran to her, leaping down several steps at once, and immediately knelt beside her.

— Aliza, it's me. I'm here. — His voice was low, calm, and his hands gently grasped her shoulders, trying to anchor her to the present.

She raised her head, her face wet with tears. Even if she tried to speak, her lips moved soundlessly. Seeing that words wouldn't help, Jack cupped her face in his hands and pressed her head to his chest.

— Listen to me. — His voice was firm, steady, as if he were trying to create a haven for her amidst the chaos. One hand covered her ear, the other held her tightly against him. — Listen to my heartbeat. There's nothing else. Just me.

Her breathing was erratic, and her body shook like a leaf. But his heartbeat—calm, rhythmic—began to break through the cacophony in her mind. That sound became her anchor, something she could focus on, something real and close.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that. A minute? Five? The entire world could have vanished, and she wouldn't have noticed.

When she finally lifted her head, her gaze was a little clearer, though still glassy. Jack wiped her tears with his thumb, looking at her with a concern that tore at his heart.

— It's okay now, — he said softly, still holding her. — You're safe.

In the distance, fireworks continued to explode across the sky, but to Aliza, the sound was now a faint echo, less terrifying, less overwhelming. She was with Jack. And for now, that was enough.

When Jack helped Aliza sit down on the couch, he gently draped a blanket over her shoulders, one he had found draped over the armchair. He sat beside her, close but not too close, giving her space to catch her breath. The tension in the room was palpable, but no one commented on it.

Kate, who had been sitting quietly in the corner with a mug of tea, glanced at Aliza from beneath her lowered lashes. She looked as if she were wrestling with herself, unsure whether to approach or leave her be. Finally, she set her mug on the table and stood, moving cautiously toward the couch.

— Hey, Aliza... mind if I sit here? — she asked softly.

Aliza looked at her, surprised. She managed a faint, shaky smile and nodded.

Kate perched on the edge of the couch, her hands nervously fiddling with the hem of her sweater. She was silent for a moment before finally daring to meet Aliza's gaze.

— You know... I just wanted to say that... I understand what it's like when... — she paused, searching for the right words. — When there's something inside you that you can't tell anyone.

Aliza looked at her intently. Her eyes, though tired, seemed more focused now.

— Really? — she asked quietly.

Kate nodded, still playing with her sweater.

— Yeah. I've always been the quiet one. The one who never really talks about how she feels. Even Malina and Barb don't always know... — She took a deep breath. — They don't know how often I feel like someone who just doesn't quite fit.

Aliza frowned slightly, trying to understand.

— But you have them, your family. They love you.

Kate smiled faintly, the corners of her lips tinged with sadness.

— I know. But sometimes, even among people who love you, you can still feel... alone.

The silence that followed was filled with understanding. Aliza eventually lowered her gaze, staring at her hands.

— Do you think it will ever go away? — she whispered, her voice barely audible.

— I don't know. — Kate gently placed a hand on hers. — But I do know that sometimes, just having someone there can help.

Aliza looked at her, and for the first time that evening, there was a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. Neither spoke for a while, but the silence between them wasn't heavy. It was calm, a quiet acknowledgment of shared pain.

After a moment, Kate gave her a small, reassuring smile.

— You know what? How about we head to the kitchen and make something warm to drink? Let's leave the guys to their "El Pacino" marathon.

Aliza nodded. She stood, still a little unsteady, but Kate slipped her arm around hers, helping her keep her balance. Together, they left the room, leaving behind the faint sound of laughter and the crackling of the television.

— Thanks, Kate, — Aliza said softly, her voice carrying a hint of something other than sadness for the first time in ages.

— Don't mention it. — Kate gave her a warm smile. — Sometimes, you just need to talk it out. Might be worth adding that to your New Year's resolutions.

The two of them left the room, leaving behind the sounds of the television and the crackling fireworks. In the quiet kitchen, they could momentarily leave the world behind.

The kitchen was silent, punctuated only by distant fireworks and muffled sounds from the television. Kate opened a cupboard, pulling out two mugs. One had a funny reindeer design, and the other was plain navy blue.

— Tea or hot chocolate? — Kate asked, glancing at Aliza.

Aliza opened her mouth to answer but hesitated. Her eyes lingered on the red box of tea on the counter, and a word slipped into her mind unbidden:

— Maybe I'll have... bl—

She caught herself mid-syllable, biting her tongue, and quickly corrected:

— Tea. Tea, please.

Kate's brows rose slightly in surprise, but she quickly recovered, nodding.

— Sure. Tea it is.

She busied herself with the drinks, moving slowly and deliberately, as though giving Aliza time to gather her thoughts.

— Thanks for coming over here — Aliza said suddenly, surprising even herself. Her voice was softer than usual. — I don't think I'd have managed... on my own. Jack's tried to help patch things up, but the Scars are still there.

Kate turned to her with a gentle smile.

— Everyone needs support sometimes, Aliza. Even if they don't always like admitting it.

Moments later, Kate handed Aliza a steaming mug and sat down across from her at the table. The two women sat quietly for a while, staring at the rising steam.

— You know, even with my sisters, it's hard to open up sometimes — Kate said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady but tinged with hesitation. — I've always been the quiet one, the soft one. Sometimes I feel like nobody notices me.

Aliza's brows lifted as she studied Kate more closely.

— And now? Do you still feel invisible?

Kate thought about it, her gaze fixed on the tea swirling in her mug.

— Maybe a little less. But there's still something weighing on me.

— What is it?

Kate hesitated, her eyes darting away as though debating whether to speak. Finally, she took a deep breath and met Aliza's gaze.

— There's someone I... like. More than I should. But I don't know if they feel the same way.

Aliza's brow arched, and the corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smile.

— Who is it?

Kate's face flushed as she waved a hand dismissively.

— No, no, I can't say. Not yet.

Aliza chuckled softly.

— Fine. But I'm going to guess.

— Don't you dare! — Kate laughed, lightly swatting Aliza's arm. Her laughter was quiet but genuine, lighting up her delicate features.

Aliza smiled, warmth and curiosity mingling in her expression.

— Whoever it is, Kate, just remember: you deserve to be happy.

Kate looked at her, gratitude shining in her eyes, and nodded.

— Thanks, Aliza. Really.

The two women stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, chatting about everything and nothing. The fireworks outside grew sporadic, and the quiet warmth of the kitchen seemed a world away from the chaos of the celebration.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR, YOU CRAZIES!

1760 words.