Heather and I spent the next three days locked in that cell. Michael never showed up, and the other soldiers only came by to drop off that gooey food and water.

Heather told me about the days we spent apart. She had gone through endless interrogations. They were very interested in her past and her family, but even though she told them over and over that she grew up in a sanctuary and didn't have any memories of them, they didn't seem to believe her.

"They were really insistent. I have no idea why." She said.

"Now that I think about it when they ambushed us in the forest, they said, 'We found what we were looking for,' referring to you." I explained.

"They wanted... me?" She gazed at the floor thoughtfully. "What if all of this is for revenge?"

I frowned. "Revenge?"

"Yeah... for all that happened with your brother." She said.

"I don't think so. Michael didn't seem very interested in our family bond." I sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She said.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but at this point, I've learned that despite whatever happens in life, we all make our own choices. Michael made his too."

"Yeah, but he's the only family you have left." She said.

I nodded. "And I won't give up on him yet. But I refuse to feel guilty anymore."

I stood on tiptoe to look through the small window of the cell. I could barely see anything. There was just a faint light filtering in from another window. It seemed like we were underground.

"How long do you think we'll stay here?" She asked.

"I don't know... Hopefully long enough for Beverly and Stella to rescue us." I said.

"I don't want to leave." Heather said.

"What?"

"I need to get to the bottom of this. They seemed to know more than I do." She said.

Suddenly, the noise of the metal door echoed between the four walls of that hole, and a female soldier with a braid that nearly reached her feet brought us, once again, that disgusting food.

"Hey." I called her attention. "Where's Micha... Rowand? I want to talk to him." I asked.

"The Commander is not available." She said without even gazing at us.

"You've said the same thing over the past three days, if he wants something from us, he'll eventually need to talk to us." I said.

Heather remained silent behind me.

The soldier left the cans on the floor and gazed briefly at me. "I'm just as tired of this as you are, believe me. But the commander has changed his plans, he's been locked away for days."

"What do you mean locked away?" I asked.

"I don't know honestly. He's reflecting I guess..." The soldier turned to leave.

Changed plans? Michael was locked up reflecting? What the hell was happening?

I sat on the floor, staring at the repulsive food pastry that seemed to taste worse with each day.

Heather sighed and kicked the discarded straw bag that was supposed to be our bed. "I'm going to lose my mind if we don't get out of here soon."

I stretched my arms forward and rolled my neck to relax the muscles. She had a point. The situation was certainly claustrophobic. The heat in that cell was suffocating, and the days felt like we were being slowly roasted in an oven.

Heather was dismayed by all the questioning about her family and clearly on edge. Plus, Michael didn't seem very stable either, now he was locked away? Was that a good or a bad thing?

Heather sat on the floor with her head resting on her knees, clearly exhausted. I moved closer and gently placed a hand on her left arm.

"You're not going to lose your mind, okay?" I said, trying to lighten the mood. "But if you do... just make sure to do it in a funny way so we can at least get a laugh out of it." Heather raised her head and shot me one of her half-smiles, one of those that told me she was tired and fed up with everything, but also happy to at least not be alone.

"Besides, you can not lose your mind with the breathtaking view we have." I gestured towards the tiny window in our cell. "Behold, the most exclusive landscape view you've ever seen." I joked.

"Enchanting." She said flatly and then, let her head fall again onto her knees.

"And that's only the beginning." I said, gently lifting her face to look at me again.

She half-opened her eyes. "Oh, please tell me, can't wait to know what other wonders are waiting for us in here." She said sarcastically.

"What about a five-star dinner date? The chef here is amazing." I said with a grin.

Heather chuckled. "So true. I've heard the food is to die for." She laughed at her own joke, which made my heart ache a little less.

"And today we are so lucky because they brought us the specialty: A delightful can of mystery mush!" I said, pointing to the cans on the floor.

"How could I resist such an offer?" She said lazily, moving to sit in front of one of them, and I did the same on the opposite side.

There was a silence, and we looked at each other.

"You know what I'll do when I come back?" I said.

Heather shook her head.

"I'll head straight to that sushi restaurant you took me to once." I said. 

"Oh no, don't make me think about delicious food right now, Grace. That's torture." She said, closing her eyes in mock agony.

"Think of it as motivation," I replied. "Dreaming of what we miss keeps us moving forward."

She looked down as if lost in memory. "That sushi was amazing, that's a fact."

"Absolutely. And the company was even better." I winked at her.

Heather smiled. "You know what I'd like to do when I come back?"

"Shoot." I said.

"I'll spend a whole day swimming." She said.

"That sounds fantastic. You should. It's your thing."

"It was." She corrected me.

"Why did you stop? Was it because of me?" I asked.

"It was because of everything. I guess I wanted my whole past to disappear." 

She gazed at the floor. My hand instinctively reached out to hers and I gently caressed it.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

Then I pulled my hand back to give her some space. 

She looked up and met my eyes. "It's ok. It helped me realize how much I miss it." 

I raised my can. "Let's toast, then."

Heather let out a laugh. "What?"

"Let's do it. Studies prove that the things said in toasts are more likely to happen." I explained.

"Where the hell did you find that study?" She said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Oh, come on! It's data, trust me!" I insisted and took her hand to force her to raise the can.

Heather laughed but didn't resist.

"For the things we miss?" I said, smiling at her.

Her beautiful lips curved into a confident smile.

"For the things we miss." She repeated, and we toasted our mystery mush together.

· · ·

After what felt like a week, Michael reappeared with the female soldier with the long braid and another soldier who had a shaved head with a very strange pattern.

"Finally!" I said. Michael looked just as serious as the last time I had seen him, did he never smile anymore?

The two soldiers accompanying him opened the cell and entered.

"What's going on?" Heather asked.

One of the soldiers grabbed Heather and the other one grabbed me.

"Where are we going?" I asked Michael while they guided us outside, but he didn't answer.

The soldier who was holding me squeezed me tightly, probably to make sure I didn't try to escape. Honestly, I was pretty sure I could take him down in a second, but I decided not to. I wanted to find out what this was all about. Heather was also calm; we locked eyes for a few seconds and I could see in hers that she had the same plan in mind; to let things unfold and see where they would lead.

We slid through a long gray hallway illuminated by orange-yellow fluorescent lights until we reached a fork. There, I realized they were going to separate us.

"Where are you taking her?" I asked immediately.

"I'll be okay. Don't worry." Heather said as the soldier pushed her to the left.

Michael stayed with me, and the other soldier continued walking with us.

"Bring the face mask." Michael ordered the soldier.

She pulled out a black face mask and covered my eyes.

"What the hell?" I said, annoyed.

After that, I had no idea where I had been taken. All I knew was that I had gone upstairs, and somehow I reached the outside because I felt the wind on my skin.

After several minutes of walking, I felt solid ground beneath my feet again and heard a door closing. Then, Michael removed the face mask.

I found myself in what appeared to be some kind of barracks or an improvised meeting room. A large, weathered wooden table dominated the center, surrounded by many chairs. Maps were hanging on the walls, marked with various points, and covered in notes. Two armchairs were positioned opposite each other, and stacks of dusty books were scattered around. Light streamed in through a large barred window, casting long shadows across the room.

Michael stood in front of me. He had huge dark circles under his eyes. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who hadn't slept.

"What is this?" He asked suddenly, while pointing to a tiny wooden box with a handle, no bigger than the palm of a hand. It was resting on the table.

I frowned, confused. "That? I have no idea. It looks like a tiny wooden capsule." I said.

"I'll ask you again. What is this?" His tone was tense and angry.

"I just told you. I don't know!" I replied.

Michael turned the handle of the box, and a soft melody played.

"Oh. Music, that's cute." I said, raising an eyebrow. I had no idea what was happening.

"Okay, then." He said, then moved to one of the armchairs and sat down, taking a deep breath. He looked really tired.

"Michael, what's going on?" I asked.

"Sit, please." He pointed to the armchair in front of him.

I sat, and it felt like the most comfortable armchair I had ever tried. After so many days sleeping on a straw sack, what can I tell you?

"Where the hell am I?" I said, gazing around.

"This is one of the headquarters houses of the Phoenix Group." Michael said while massaging his temples as if he had a headache.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He looked exhausted. "I've heard you've been locked away..."

"I needed time to think." He said.

There was a long silence. Like way too long.

"And now... it's when you tell me what you thought about." I said.

"It's complicated. There are things going on here that you can't even begin to understand." He said.

"Do I look that stupid?" I closed my eyes in exasperation. "Why did you bring me here, then?"

"I wanted to test you. To know if I could trust you." He said gazing at the wooden box.

"Not following." I said.

"This little music box made of wood is the gift from Erik that you gave me." He said.

"Really? Wow, that makes much more sense! I wondered what it was!" I said.

"There was a message in the notes, coded with the musical language Erik and I created." He explained.

"Is that so? Erik is a genius," I said, scanning the music box. "Well, what does the melody say?" I asked.

Michael took a deep breath before answering. "Trust her."

My heart filled with joy, and I couldn't contain a smile of satisfaction. How could Erik have been so crucial in our lives? What would I have done without him? He was always the one who brought light when everything seemed dark, literally with his makeshift flashlight and metaphorically with his coded music. He had an uncanny knack for saying the right thing at the right time, pushing just the right buttons. He could anticipate events like no one else. And that time, even in his difficult situation, he had managed to scout the perfect message that was going to save me.

"And... do you trust me now?" I asked.

"Maybe..." He said. "I still have my doubts. Especially due to your obsession with Heather Anderson."

"My obsession?" I raised my voice because he said it as if it were a childish whim. "Let me remind you that the last time the three of us saw each other, I let you escape by pointing my gun at her."

Michael huffed. "But I told you to come with me, and you chose to stay with her, despite knowing she was the main reason we spent so much time apart."

"You shot her, Michael! Have you forgotten that? Did you expect me to leave her bleeding on the ground?" I raised my voice.

"I didn't have a choice. She would have shot me too. It was either her or me." He raised his voice too. 

"That's what you want to believe!" I said. 

Michael went silent for a moment. Then he stood up, his fists clenched tightly, and turned away, as if he needed to move to decompress from the tension of the conversation.

"It was a mistake, ok? I know that now." He said.

"Finally. You could've started the conversation with that." 

"In fact... I was relieved to know she had survived." He explained. "Otherwise, we'd have lost the crucial piece we need."

"What do you mean? Why are you so interested in her?" I asked.

Michael turned towards the table and carefully picked up Erik's music box. He stared at it quietly. In that instant, it became clear to me that Erik was still very much present in Michael's thoughts and heart, no matter how hard he tried to move on.

"I'll tell you, but first, there's a lot you need to see." Michael said, sounding much more relaxed than before.

"Show me." I said. 

With a nod, I stood up, eager to figure out how The Other Side was somehow connected to Heather Anderson.

Author's Note: 

Hey there, lovely person reading this! How are you? I hope you're doing great and that you enjoyed the chapter. 💕

What do you think about Erik's message in the music box? And how do you feel about Erik as a character? I'd love to hear your thoughts!!

Thanks a bunch for reading! Sending you loads of love! 💫

Ava 💫