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Paris, France. April 2036.

   "Where is Nadine?" Antonia whispered at a volume too low to be heard. She was lying in a room. They wouldn't let her out. She had been there for two days, she thought, unable to count them properly.

   She didn't remember much of what had happened. She had memories of the months when everything turned into chaos. Losing her family, the crimes in Paris, the fleeing of the figures of power. She also had a vague memory of the university being taken over by that chaos. She never left, just changed rooms the night she and Nadine ended. She found plenty of empty rooms, students began to flee. Everything had spiraled out of control in just a few days.

   The following months were nothing but confusing and blurry flashes, tinged with red. Drugs distorted her perception of reality during that time, and her mind struggled not to remember, to protect itself. However, for the past two days, the only things she consumed were provisions in good condition and clean water. The absence of toxins in her body was like a fog lifting, exposing painful memories.

   Rosadella watched her with a serious and distracted expression, standing beside her. A male nurse, short in stature, slender, with hair almost as dark as her eyes, spoke to her in a low and timid voice.

   "The toughest part hasn't arrived yet; her condition is such that she's still under the influence of drugs. Detoxification is a hard process that is usually done gradually, step by step. The problem is we can't afford to spend the few medications we have on her. This will make the process more intense, but the injured need the medications..." The young man hid his lips in a line, his gaze wandering over the sheets. "I'm sorry, really. Both of you have some difficult days ahead..."

   "Don't worry, Álvaro. Thank you. I'll stay with her as long as necessary."

   "Where is Nadine?" Antonia repeated a bit louder.

   The nurse looked at her, whispered something in Rosadella's ear, and with an apologetic smile, he left.

   "Hello, my name is Rosadella," she said, with a slight sideways smile. "Nadine can't see you right now. She's okay, safe, but she's busy."

   Memories of Nadine's screams when she was confined caused a slight shiver in Rosadella. To disguise it, she took a step forward, standing by Antonia's bed with her arms crossed, delicate flower tattoos visible on them. She wasn't wearing her hoodie. She waited for Antonia's response, which took a few minutes to come.

   "Why?" She suffered from a severe headache, which worsened every time she moved or spoke.

   "Why, what?"

   "... Where am I?"

   "At the Opera Garnier, headquarters of Pangea... Paris." She shrugged, unsure of what she remembered and what she didn't.

   "...Ah."

   "You have no idea what I'm talking about."

   "Truth is, I don't."

   "It doesn't matter, just focus on getting better, nothing else. You're safe, Nadine too. When both of you are better, you can catch up."

   "When we're both better?" Antonia tried to sit up, alarmed. She gave in to the strong muscle pain. "What happened to Nadine?..."

   "She's just tired. Probably you are too. Go to sleep. I'll be outside your room if you need me."

   Without saying more, she left, leaving Antonia completely confused. She sank into the soft pillows, biting her nails as she observed the lights above her head. Withdrawal was near. Minutes passed, and the young woman eventually fell asleep. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept without fear.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   In Rosadella's room, Nadine curled up on a mattress on the floor. She had moved to that room the night Wilfred died but had refused to be the one to sleep in the bed. With her gaze fixed on the ceiling, tears fell silently. The last image of Wilfred repeated itself over and over in her mind.

   The food tasted like rocks, and life like crap.

   Leonardo visited her daily, bringing her meals and always had something sweet to say, but she made no sound. He wouldn't leave until he made sure she ate and drank. He saw little of Rosadella; she didn't leave Antonia's side. She had promised to take care of her, as long as she let Leonardo take care of her too.

   The memories began to torment her, so after eating the minimum that Leonardo demanded, she turned over and pretended to sleep. In complete silence, the man left. Nadine remained lying down, clutching Wilfred's stuffed crab and wearing Rosadella's purple hoodie.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   Rosadella walked through the corridors with Antonia's dinner in hand, only to encounter her much earlier than expected. Weakly, Antonia opened doors and rummaged through every box she found, turning over every drawer and cursing. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing clean clothes. Rosadella sadly observed her wounds for a moment before anger took over.

   "What do you think you're doing?" Rosadella's tone lacked any hint of patience. She had forgiven her the first two times she caught her trying to steal; they didn't want to infringe upon her freedom. She had given her one last chance, but now she had lost her trust.

   She wouldn't let her wander the halls in that state, especially considering the immense fear she had that she would find Nadine and make things worse.

   "I'm looking for Nadine."

   "Last time I checked, Nadine wasn't hiding in the dresser drawers."

   "Get lost," Antonia turned to look at her with annoyance.

   In response, Rosadella, raising her voice, grabbed her by the shirt, approaching her with annoyance:

   "Let's get one thing straight, this is no game. What you're looking for, you won't find. We're not stupid enough to leave drugs lying around for you to find. You're going back to your damn bed, and you're going to cooperate."

   "Let me go!" Antonia struggled weakly. Rosadella remained unmoved.

   "Let's go."

   Taking her by the arm, she began to drag her to the infirmary. Antonia started screaming loudly, causing volunteers to peek into the hallway to see if everything was alright. They returned to their rooms after Rosadella assured them that everything was fine with just a nod of her head.

   Once in the infirmary, Rosadella rudely left Antonia's food on a table, while she continued to scream and thrash. She put her in bed, attempting to handcuff her left hand with the shackles prepared on the hospital bed long ago.

   It wasn't an easy task; Antonia fought as if her life depended on it. Despite being very weak and Rosadella being very strong, it took her a few minutes to handcuff her. Rosadella's patience had reached its limit, but she tried her best to remain calm.

   "Go to hell!" Antonia shouted, spitting saliva in the process.

   "Shut up or you won't eat," Rosadella responded seriously, holding the plate of food out of Antonia's reach once again.

   A few minutes of silence later, she handed her a plate of canned vegetables and moved away to sit in a chair. From there, she watched her with an unfriendly expression. After finishing her plate, Antonia fell asleep. Rosadella took the leftovers and left.

   With slow and tired steps, she returned to her room; Nadine remained in the same position.

   "You can fool Leonardo, but not me," Rosadella said, smiling slightly as she put on a jacket, the sun had already set.

   Nadine turned around, looked at her, and simply smiled sadly. Rosadella sat down on the floor beside her and waited until Nadine finally asked what she wanted to know:

   "How is Antonia?"

   "These past three days, she simply slept and devoured everything on her plate. Probably, the toughest part will start in a couple of days."

   "Will she be okay?"

   "Of course, darling! She's not in any danger, Nadine. But the detox process isn't pleasant, I don't think it's a good idea for you to see her until both of you are better... she'll probably start getting violent."

   Silence in response.

   "Well, rest," Rosadella whispered softly as she tucked Nadine in. She headed to her bed, blew out the candle, and settled in to sleep.

   "... Family or partner?" Nadine suddenly said.

   Rosadella let out a small laugh at Nadine's understanding of her words.

   "Both. My parents were taken by an overdose when I was just eleven. Nahuel, my partner for years, committed suicide after relapsing. One year sober..."

   Silence. Nadine waited, then encouraged her:

   "That's not the end of the story..."

   "Almost was. After nearly three years of sobriety, I relapsed. One day I woke up, and all this had started a while ago. They had cut off the electricity months ago, I didn't realize anything until I was forced to go out into the street in search of... supplies." She closed her eyes, still remembering that apartment she and Nahuel had shared. She smiled realizing she hadn't said his name since his death. Those letters felt safe and rusty on her lips. "Desperate, I snuck into Pangea, I needed to consume something, I didn't care if I had to steal it, I didn't care if the world was falling apart around me. I searched every corner I could, only found a few expired aspirins... I was tired and wanted to leave. However, someone stopped me," she chuckled melancholically and murmured, "with a blow to the head."

   "I woke up handcuffed in the same bed where Antonia sleeps now. Greta had followed me from the moment I walked through the front door. She said she wasn't going to let go of the opportunity to help me, that she had seen a future for me in Pangea from the very beginning. She helped me, or rather, forced me to detoxify. I didn't resist, I felt alone and just wanted someone to take care of me." Rosadella's gentle laughter filled the silence of the night, Nadine couldn't help but smile too. She loved the joy Rosadella radiated, even in the worst moments. "You... you're going to the shelter, aren't you?"

   Rosadella's voice seemed to tremble as she uttered the last sentence, but Nadine's mind was too distracted to notice. Lately, she felt as if she were living in the clouds during a storm. Her only moments of peace were when Rosadella was with her.

   Both lay in their respective beds, in the dark. The tension in the air was strange, but it didn't feel like something bad.

   "I have to wait for Greta's message," Nadine cleared her throat and sighed heavily. "She promised to check the records to see if they're there. She warned me that she couldn't do more than that, that she couldn't be sure if it was them, that she was only going to stay there for two days and had a lot to do."

   "And if they're not there?"

   "I'll keep looking for any clues around here. The strange thing is that they never passed through this headquarters."

   "Most people avoid the city for safety. Don't worry, I'm sure Greta will bring good news."

   They talked for another hour, as if minutes were passing in a world that wasn't broken. Together, they filled the silences until they fell asleep, feeling that some wounds were beginning to heal.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   A week had passed since Wilfred's death, seconds dragged heavily, time seemed to bend, and memories became an endless stream of moments that would not return, laughter they would never hear again, and hands they would never hold.

   Greta was on her way to South Asia; one of the largest headquarters stood resiliently. In a week, a volunteer would arrive with supplies for the Paris headquarters and a letter for Nadine, or at least that's what she hoped for every second.

   In the infirmary, in Antonia's room, she was still handcuffed. She argued with Rosadella.

   "You have to eat."

   "I'm not hungry, please," Antonia complained.

   After much insistence, Rosadella managed to get her to eat. An hour later, she vomited everything she had consumed; the vicious circle had begun four days ago. Her body constantly spiked a fever; she vomited everything, and her irritability and violence had increased considerably. Her body was starting to go crazy due to the lack of substances.

   Seconds after vomiting, Antonia began to beg Rosadella to please give her something, that she felt like she was dying and her organs were on fire. In response, she only received silence, and then she started to get violent. Rosadella sighed exhaustedly, every evening the same circle, she thought.

   "You damn bitch," Antonia said, sitting forward as much as the handcuffs allowed.

   "You're always so sweet to me," Rosadella responded, smiling sideways. She stood watching her, out of her reach with her arms crossed and legs apart, as she always did when Antonia acted like this. "You should write poetry."

   Rosadella's sarcasm was met with Antonia's screams, insults too tangled to understand, words overlapping and saliva spitting. Rosadella was aware that her attitude irritated her more, but at least the episodes lasted less.

   "Nadine! Nadine!" Antonia's screams suddenly echoed through the halls. Rosadella's smile disappeared automatically, replaced by panic in her eyes.

   "Silence!" She made her shut up with the back of her hand. "The longer it takes for you to improve, the longer you'll be without seeing Nadine! I won't allow her to see you in this state; she's been through enough. And you of all people should understand that!"

   Her behavior lasted a few more minutes, as she kicked her legs like a petulant child, screaming with frustration. When she calmed down, Rosadella left without saying a word. She was sure Nadine had heard the screams from the end of the hallway. Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest.

In the room, Nadine was suffering a fit of rage. She had destroyed the room while crying inconsolably, pulling at her hair. The pain was consuming her; memories of Wilfred tormented her every second, and anxiety was beginning to implant the idea in her head that her entire family was dead. She had believed she heard Antonia calling her; that's when she knew she was losing her mind.

...

   "How is she?" said Álvaro, the nurse. At that moment, he was in charge of the weekly check-up of the volunteers, trying to make sure that none of them were falling ill. The lack of analysis made early diagnosis of diseases difficult. Rosadella followed his steps.

   "Unbearable," Rosadella sighed heavily, exhausted. She had sought out her friend to clear her mind a bit; she wanted to see Nadine with the best energy possible. "Probably within a couple of days, her body will be better. She has an appetite most of the time, but her system rejects anything that's not drugs."

   "Their fights can be heard throughout the halls," he replied as he took the blood pressure of a smiling elderly woman.

   "Don't get me started on that," Rosadella huffed. "She insists on seeing Nadine, but I don't think it's optimal. She's very fragile, and Antonia is very violent."

   "How is Nadine? No one has seen her since what happened."

   Álvaro bid farewell sweetly to the elderly woman, and together with Rosadella, they began to walk through the halls. He observed Rosadella carefully as she searched for answers in the floor tiles.

   "She's still on the floor of my room. She eats forcibly, but anguish sometimes makes her vomit. She doesn't get out of bed, barely speaks, and when she does, she asks me about Greta's letter or about Antonia. Waves of crying suddenly overwhelm her... she has changed a lot, I can feel it."

   "I know you don't think it's a good idea, and I respect that, but maybe seeing each other under supervision might be good for both of them," Álvaro murmured timidly. Rosadella looked up to meet the young man's eyes; his cheeks flushed. "Even if it's just for a few minutes, to see that the other is also struggling to get better and that allows them to focus more on themselves."

   Rosadella looked into the distance as she sighed. She didn't know who was more concerning between the two.

   "Or maybe not, I don't know..." the boy stuttered nervously, his voice trailing off.

   "No, no. You might be right; it's worth a try."

   Rosadella accompanied him to finish the rounds as he told her about the state of the volunteers and refugees. After a while, she bid him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and headed to her room.

   She found it empty.

   Both mattresses had been thrown to the other corner of the room. The mirror was broken, along with Nadine's belongings, scattered on the floor. Rosadella's things were intact, just a bit disheveled.

   Automatically, she began to run towards the infirmary, searching for her in every hallway. A few meters from the door, she could see her standing, with the hood of her purple hoodie covering her head. She was watching Antonia, who was completely asleep.

   Silently, Rosadella sat on the hallway floor and waited.

   Antonia looked pale, with dark circles under her eyes, dirty nails, and unkempt hair. She looked very ill. Nadine, with her hands in her pockets where she kept Wilfred's crab, watched her just as beautiful as ever. However, the feeling was no longer the same. With a solemn expression, she observed her, her body heavy. She hadn't stood up in a long time. And since she had lost her little companion, something as simple as breathing was a struggle.

   She turned around, sat on the chair where Rosadella used to keep her company with Wilfred, and as she watched Antonia, she fell asleep.

   Antonia's struggles woke her up; she felt like she had fallen asleep five minutes ago but also twenty hours ago. Antonia was shaking frantically, trying to escape from the handcuffs; her wrist was completely irritated from so much daily struggling, despite being covered in fabric. She muttered curses and screamed in frustration. Without noticing the presence of the one she had been asking for so much, she started to cry, begging for something, not wanting to remember. She ended up vomiting, cleaning her mouth with her free hand, and abruptly lifting her gaze towards Nadine. She watched her with a darkened face, and she didn't look very healthy either.

   Scared, she stood up, determined to leave. Unaware that in the hallway, Rosadella was listening attentively, waiting to intervene if necessary.

   "Nadine, please don't go," Antonia pleaded, sobbing.

   Nadine stopped abruptly. She didn't turn around, nor did she make a sound.

   "Please," Antonia repeated.

   Nadine turned around, her expression unchanged but with a hint of resentment in her eyes. Slowly, she returned to the chair, sighing with annoyance.

  "Hello," Antonia smiled. She received no response.

   Minutes passed with Antonia's attempts to start a conversation, but she got nothing in return. Nadine didn't even look her in the eyes. This irritated Antonia; she started struggling again. Under Nadine's gaze, she felt ashamed, but she was also desperate.

   "Can you tell them to give me something? Please, Nadine-"

   "No one's going to give you anything; stop making a fool of yourself," Nadine interrupted cruelly.

   "You don't understand, I don't want to remember..." Antonia's crying sounded like that of a little girl.

   "You don't understand! For once in your life, stop making everything about you," Nadine stood up, furious, shouting. "Look at yourself! You're disgusting..."

   She spoke the last words in a whisper, but they felt like stabs. Rosadella entered the room hastily. Antonia cried silently.

   As time passed, Antonia's memories in Nadine's mind had distorted, creating a sweet lie. Seeing her again, reality had taken away one of her great comforts, reminding her of all the pain being with her had caused her. And understanding that had felt horrible; she had nothing left.

   "Nadine, I think it's time for you to go back to the room," Rosadella said authoritatively but sweetly.

   Nadine didn't look at her; she simply left through the door, bumping her shoulder against Rosadella's. Now alone, Antonia tried to hide her tears. Rosadella took the chair from the corner and brought it closer to Antonia's bed, where she sat.

   "Hey... Are you feeling any better?"

   Antonia shook her head, pouting like a child.

   "What's wrong?"

   "I'm very cold."

   At that moment, Rosadella noticed that Antonia was trembling. She took the thermometer from the infirmary cart and placed it under her armpit. After a few minutes, it started beeping. Rosadella looked at the screen.

   "Thirty-eight degrees. You're starting to have a fever," she lifted her gaze from the thermometer and said gently, "It's the home stretch, Antonia. Hold on a little longer, and you'll feel better than you have in a long time."

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   Rosadella entered the room quietly, her plan was to lie down directly; she was exhausted. Nadine tossed in her bed, crying and whimpering; she was having nightmares again. Rosadella knelt beside her, taking her by the arms, she woke her up. Nadine woke up with a slight scream and started crying inconsolably. Rosadella hugged her until she fell asleep again.

   She stood up, blew out the candle, and lay down in her bed to sleep. In her dreams, Nadine called out for Wilfred and her family.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   The following days, Antonia's temperature rose, and she deliriously dreamt of memories from the parties that haunted her. She wouldn't let anyone touch her, but she was no longer violent. Sometimes she even shared parts of what she remembered with Rosadella, who listened attentively and responded with words of support.

   In the infirmary, Rosadella and Antonia were chatting. Antonia was sitting on the bed, telling Rosadella an old anecdote. Finally, they had removed her handcuffs. Rosadella, sitting beside the bed on her chair, laughed.

   They were interrupted by Leonardo, who knocked on the open door as a sign of permission.

   "Leonardo!" exclaimed Antonia excitedly, while Rosadella stood up and left the room.

   "Hello, beautiful! You look more energetic," Leonardo said.

   They talked for a minute, then Leonardo bid farewell to talk to Rosadella, who was waiting for him in the hallway.

   "It's incredible, she looks so much better," Leonardo said with a smile, pointing towards the infirmary.

   "Yeah, once the fever goes away, she'll be better. Although withdrawal doesn't go away so easily, I know it's still there, even though she disguises it. On the other hand, she really has horrible memories of those months... She asked about you," Rosadella said.

   Leonardo smiled delightedly. He had been a psychologist and now used his knowledge to help survivors. Antonia had refused every time he had tried to talk to her, but that seemed to have changed.

   "If she wants, I have some free time right now," Leonardo offered.

   "Perfect, thank you," Rosadella said, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. She sighed and asked, "Now, tell me, what happened?"

   "Nadine refuses to eat. This morning, I couldn't get her to eat anything; she said she felt nauseous, so I let her be. I just tried to give her dinner, and she told me not so nicely to take a walk. I think she knows that the volunteers from Iceland are supposed to arrive tomorrow."

   "Have you told her about...?" Rosadella trailed off, nodding towards the infirmary.

   "Yes," Leonardo sighed heavily. "Last night. I think that's why she stopped eating. The anxiety must have closed her stomach."

   "Alright, thanks, Leo. I'll talk to her. And you...?" Rosadella asked, nodding towards the infirmary.

   "Go ahead, don't worry," Leonardo assured her.

   Leonardo entered the room with Antonia, where they talked for hours until Antonia's head started to ache. She had a lot to tell and a lot to cry about. Most of it she didn't remember, but the things she did threatened to drive her insane. She told Leonardo about all the things that were done to her and all the things she did. Leonardo promised to come and talk to her twice a week to help her move forward. As night fell, he retired to his room. Antonia, however, couldn't sleep; she lay there staring at the ceiling, thinking about the conversation between Rosadella and Leonardo that she had overheard.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   "I'm not going to do it," Nadine said, sitting on her bed, hugging her knees, and looking at Rosadella sitting on the floor in front of her.

   "Nadine, I know it's not pretty, I know it sounds cold. But it will only be for a minute, we can't deviate from the protocol. And it will be in a different room," replied Rosadella.

   "Equally empty, with no way out? No, thanks," Nadine responded.

   "Damn it, Nadine. What do you want? Should I put furniture for you to smash over my head?" Rosadella exclaimed.

   "You're assuming I'm going to turn into a drowning. Do you know something I don't?" Nadine questioned.

   "No, I don't know anything. That's why we have to follow the protocol," Rosadella replied.

   The next day, Rosadella stood with a notepad in hand and a pencil. There, she wrote down all the supplies arriving from Iceland. Leonardo guided the volunteers carrying the boxes of canned goods, while Álvaro escorted the injured from the journey.

   Nadine, in an empty room, with no windows and only one door, its walls painted in a dull sky color, leaned against the wall facing the exit, waiting for Rosadella. In her mind, she could hear the screams from the morning she lost Wilfred, causing her nausea.

   Antonia walked slowly through the opera house corridors. The day before, Leonardo had granted her permission to leave the infirmary, and she now had her own room converted from a salon. Tonight would be the first night she spent there.

   She had toured the entire opera house, passing through each hallway, pausing on the upper steps, observing the empty stage where silence now reigned. Just a few days ago, the joy of children filled the place. Now, she stood by a window, contemplating the provisions arriving.

   Back in the empty room, Nadine heard someone inserting the key into the door. A shiver ran down her spine, and she began to sweat. Wilfred's name echoed constantly in her head; she had to get out of there or she would go crazy. It was Rosadella, who showed her the envelope in her hand. She turned it around to show Nadine that it was still sealed, indicating she also didn't know anything. Behind her, she locked the door again.

   As they had discussed the night before, Nadine sat on the floor at one end of the room, Rosadella at the other. With a tranquilizer in hand, Rosadella forcefully slid the envelope across the floor, which hit Nadine's legs. Desperate, Nadine opened it and began to read. Rosadella's hands were sweating, but she was ready to react at the first sign of violence.

   Rosadella wished for the best news for her. She kept her gaze on Nadine, a smile forming on her lips as she thought about how beautiful she was.

   "I don't understand," Nadine said with anguish, looking up from the paper at Rosadella and then back down at the letter.

   "Read it to me," Rosadella requested.

   With a sigh, Nadine began:

   "Nadine, I hope you are feeling better. I have consulted the list of refugees: your family's surname is here, along with the clarification that they come from Burgundy. I haven't been able to visit them, as there is great chaos here, preparing to receive refugees from all branches," Nadine read aloud from Greta's letter. "But I can assure you that four people with the surname Dubois are here, and they came from Burgundy."

   Finishing the letter, Nadine looked at Rosadella with a serious expression. At first, she had felt despair and anguish, but suddenly, she stopped feeling, as if a switch had been flipped. She couldn't think clearly.

   "I don't understand what you don't understand..." Rosadella said.

   "There should have been five people, not four."

   At this, Rosadella stood up, sat down next to Nadine with her back against the wall, and wrapped her arm around her. Nadine rested her head on her shoulder and intertwined her fingers with Rosadella's. And they stayed like that for the next hour.

   Nadine reread the letter over and over, hoping that by some miracle the words would change. But even if they did, the facts wouldn't.

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