My life likes to play this game with me where I say I'm finally getting it figured out and pulled together and it's like lolllllll you THOUGHT. I'm sick of the sound of my own apologies, and at this point idk what my life is anymore so I unfortunately don't see a scenario where I'm handling it any better. Anyway. No idea when the next one will exist but here's the chapter.

tw for strong suicidal ideation/talk of suicide, depression, and child abuse

She sobbed the entire drive to the school–cried so hard that she didn't let any thoughts or even tangible emotions through because she knew she was in no state to handle them–just cried and tried to get them all out but instead found that they just kept coming.

They kept coming as she walked up to the office entrance of the school, through the office and past several adults calling after her that stupid, stupid question of whether or not she was alright, and to the police officer's office where she'd promised to meet Joel.

Tears were still streaming down her face as she tapped on the doorframe and regretted everything she'd ever done in her entire life.

"Come in," came Stepehens' voice through the open door, and then he appeared, leaning back in his chair to see who it was, and his casual expression immediately turned to one of intense alarm.

"Adira?" He was on his feet and rushing over to her in a second, ushering her inside with one hand on her shoulder as he leaned down to her level. "Hey, what happened?"

As he continued to look at her, she recognized a look in his eyes that said he knew the answer to the next question, and he didn't like it.

"What happened to your face?"

She had cried enough to banish every trace of makeup from her face, and it now no doubt looked like absolute hell.

She didn't say anything, just sank into the chair she'd become way too comfortable with and allowed her head to drop into her hands.

"Okay." His tone was heavy with compassion and a little helplessness. "I got you."

He poked his head out the door and said to whoever happened to be there, "Can you send Mr. Ellis in here please? Thank you."

He closed the door behind him and moved to the other side of the desk she was now sitting in front of, picking up his phone receiver with one hand while the other keyed a search into his computer.

When he'd found it, he began punching numbers into the phone, and then she heard it ringing, and a faintly familiar and accented voice saying something on the other line.

"Good morning, Joel," Stepehens replied, and for once she was relieved that was who he was calling. "This is Officer Stephens at Hillsboro High School. I'm calling about Adira Rhodes." A pause, then he reassured quickly, "Ye–yes. She's okay. I mean, she's right here. She's not... well..." His tone darkened. "She is hurt. But I don't think she needs a hospital. She hasn't said anything, but I think it may be a similar situation to the last time, so I'd like you to come in if you can..."

Why had she picked up the phone?

"You are? So you've spoken to her? Good. That's good. Thank you. I'll talk to you soon, then."

He hung up the phone and slowly walked back over to her, dropping down onto one knee next to her.

"Are you breathing?" he asked quietly, his tone level and gentle.

She tried to nod but choked on a sob in the process.

"Not too well," he replied simply. "Try to do it with me. One..." She gasped in a breath as he exaggeratedly inhaled. "Good. Two..."

They repeated, and she choked again, coughing on the way out.

Why, why, why would she pick up that phone?

"Hey. Hey."

She'd pressed her eyes closed, but she felt his hand on her arm.

"You're alright. I'm right here. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you, Adira."

She heard the door open and close and someone, no doubt Ellis, crossing the room, sensed him standing a few feet away, could feel the helplessness radiating off of him.

"I know talking's kinda hard for you right now," Stephens' voice cut back through the screaming in her head, "and I'm not gonna make you do it. But can you just nod for me, let me know you can hear me?"

She obeyed, and felt him returning the gesture.

"Okay. Good. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? You're safe now. You're safe now. Mr. Ellis is here too. Joel's gonna be here in just a minute. We're gonna help you." He hesitated before adding, gently and deliberately, "I know you don't think it's possible, but it's gonna get better. Please just stop fighting us. We want to help. We just want to help."

"You can't arrest them." She was surprised by her own, desperately shaking voice. "Pl–please. Please don't arrest them."

A slow sigh fell from the officer's lips, a hesitation as he clearly struggled with how to respond. "We're gonna keep everyone safe. That's what we're here to do."

What had she done?

They were going to kill her.

Or they were gonna get arrested.

Why hadn't she just jumped?

Stephens was talking again, but his voice faded to a distant echo behind the ringing in her ears. She should be dead right now. She should be dead right now.

For a moment, she registered the pain of her nails driving into her head, hard, but that quickly faded out too. Everything was just noise and light and the constant reminder that she wasn't dead because she was weak and stupid and so, so pathetic.

She couldn't even kill herself right.

Why would she answer the phone?

Maybe her mother was right... maybe she just wanted attention.

She deserved to die for everything she'd put everyone she loved through.

She deserved to die because... because she just did.

Why would she answer the phone?

Why, why, why...

She came back to reality like coming up for air after being underwater, gasping, but with more luck at actually inhaling oxygen than she'd been having before.

She opened her eyes as she started upright, looking around her and having to reacquaint herself with where she was. It felt like she'd been out for hours, but it had clearly only been a matter of a minute or two–maybe even less.

She'd let go of something when she "woke up", and she realized now that it had been Stephen's hands, and he must have transferred her grip to them to keep her from tearing up herself like she had been.

A few deep, red marks on each of his palms, the fingers his sleeves hadn't protected him from, screamed up at her.

"Oh my God." Her voice was barely audible as it fell from her mouth. "Oh my... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"For what?" he asked, brow creasing, clearly trying to determine where her head was, before following her gaze to his own hands. "That? Forget that." A small laugh. "I'm a police officer, Adira. That is literally what I'm here for. Better me than you, every day of the week."

"B–but..." She faltered. "I..."

Before she could find words, there was a hurried tap on the door, and then Joel was rushing through it, breathless and looking like he was on the edge of panic.

When he saw her, his face completely broke, and this time, it was him who rushed across the room, Stephens stepping aside so he could wrap her in a fiercely desperate hug.

And she buried herself in him, starting to cry again as she clung to him like a scared kitten.

"I'm sorry. I–I–I..."

As usual, he was immediately shaking his head, but this time, he stayed silent as he did, and a small sob betrayed the fact that he was crying, too.

They stayed like that for a long moment, and then he slowly detached her from him, stepping back with one hand on her shoulder to look her up and down. His face broke all over again as he looked at hers, his other hand combing through her hair like she was a small child.

"Darling, you–they..." He took a deep, shuddering breath, clearly struggling to pull himself together. "You're safe now," he said instead of continuing to address the bruises she knew were screaming at him directly. "I promise you're safe now."

She just let her head drop again, all of the strength falling out of her shoulders, only staying upright because of the hand still holding her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." The words came out barely audible.

"No, Adira." It was Ellis, speaking for the first time since he'd come in, shaking his head as he looked at her. "No. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, and we are all very proud of you."

"How about you sit down again," Stephens added before she could argue. "And we're going to get all of this figured out. Just take a deep breath, and try to tell us the truth, okay? We just want to help."

She obediently sank back into the seat she'd stood up from to hug Joel, but she didn't raise her head, and she started to shake again, her knee bouncing up and down like a rubber ball.

Stephens went back behind his desk while the others pulled up chairs as well, before he broke the silence once more. "I know you already talked to Joel a little on the phone," he said steadily. "But can you tell us what happened?"

She squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, a few last years fighting out as she did.

Usually, this was where she went into damage control, tried to back up and talk them down and undo all the mistakes she'd made. But this time, she simply didn't have the energy.

"I just can't do it anymore." The admittance came out hushed and ashamed. "I... I just can't. Not like I couldn't before, I–I–I don't know. I don't know how to explain it. I just can't."

"You hit a wall," Ellis put in, his gaze and his tone both utterly understanding.

"Yeah," she whispered heavily. "I hit a wall."

"So what did you do?" Stephens prompted gently, almost casually, like he was asking how she'd responded to an every day inconvenience.

"I didn't really mean to." She didn't know whether that was true. "But I dropped Reagan off, and then I went to this park, and then I started walking, and then I was on the overpass, and it–it just seemed right."

"To jump?"

She didn't say anything as she nodded this time, keeping her eyes fixated on the carpeted floor.

"Okay. And then what happened?"

"Joel called," she whispered heavily.

She hated herself so, so much.

"I don't know why I answered, b–but I did." A deep, shuddering breath, a shame-filled second's glance at Joel as much as she could bear. "And I don't know why I–why I listened, but I did." A beat of silence, then, defeated, "And now I'm here."

"Good job," Stephens told her with a tight, sad smile. "You're doing great."

He exchanged a quick look with Ellis before taking a deep breath and standing up, carefully laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing a little as he did.

"Me and Mr. Ellis are gonna step out for a minute and have a quick chat with the school psychologist. Joel's gonna stay right here with you. Just sit tight, and we'll be back soon. Okay?"

She nodded numbly, eyes on the carpet until the door had closed behind them. When it had, her eyes closed as well, desperate to avoid Joel's at all costs.

There was a long pause before he asked quietly, "What's your favorite Bible story, Adira?"

The question came out of nowhere, and it took her a moment to process it. It was asked like you would ask a child, but not in a demeaning way... just in a simple way. There was no loaded what's your favorite Scripture, no expectation to give some deeply spiritual answer that would prove just how close she was to God–or the opposite, if she gave some generic Psalm 23 or John 3:16, implying that she might as well have never even read her Bible.

"I always liked David and Goliath," she whispered after what she guessed was close to a minute of silence.

She could hear the slight smile in his voice as he answered. "Classic. What do you like about it?"

"When I was little, it was that he fought a giant." This time, she didn't really have to think about the answer... it just spilled off her tongue in a soft and broken tone. "But then I got older and realized that God fought the giant, and David always knew He would. He was so confident, but not in himself. And I guess that's even better."

"Amen," the musician agreed quietly. Then, gently, after another short pause, "So why do you always try to fight him all by yourself, Love?"

It was asked so tenderly, like a warm rag on a throbbing wound, but it still immediately brought moisture to her closed eyes, so much that she could only hold it at bay for a few seconds before it began to leak out, down her cheeks.

"I don't know."

She hadn't thought it was possible to sound anymore broken than she already had, but apparently, it was.

She choked on a sob, gasped in a deep, shuddering breath, and added, "I can't anymore."

"Darling, you never could."

She wasn't quite sure how exactly it happened, but she suddenly found herself sobbing into his shoulder, wrapped in a hug so tight and so safe she wasn't sure how it existed in the same universe as the chaos and pain that made up the rest of her life.

"It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay."

As impossible as the repeated promise seemed, it was so soft and so confident that a part of her–just the tiniest part of her shattered soul–believed that it might be true.