The adrenaline that had kept Ivy standing finally drained from her, and she sank to the floor, trembling. Tom turned to her, his sharp features softening slightly as he crouched down.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

She shook her head, though her wrists ached where Cedric had gripped her. “I… I thought he was going to—” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands.

Tom hesitated before reaching out, his hand hovering near her shoulder. “He’s gone,” he said firmly. “He won’t hurt you again.”

Ivy looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why are you even here, Tom? Why do you care?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His dark eyes searched hers, and when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Because I see you, Ivy. The real you. And I’m not going to let anyone destroy that.”

She laughed bitterly, wiping at her tears. “You think you’re so noble, don’t you? You think saving me makes you better than him? It doesn’t, Tom. You’re just as dangerous.”

Tom’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stood and extended a hand to her. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Ivy hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. Every instinct told her not to trust him, but she was too exhausted to fight. She took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

As they walked through the empty corridors, Ivy couldn’t help but glance at Tom, his expression unreadable as always. For all her anger and mistrust, she couldn’t deny the faint glimmer of safety she felt with him by her side.

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t over. Cedric’s madness, Tom’s inscrutable motives, her own fractured heart—it was all a ticking time bomb, and she had no idea how to defuse it.