Like every morning, it could be said that Fatin woke up in a bad mood. It was hard for her to think about the routine she had followed at home, getting up early to rehearse several hours a day, going back and going to bed because she was tired, because now she just wanted to sleep as long as possible to avoid living the same day to day. She rubbed her eyes and brushed the sand off her face and other parts of her body, stretching in the process.

Despite following the same procedure, she could feel that things weren't the same. The girls around her were slowly waking up —'anyone wants more of these juicy, red bitches?' Dot had asked— but none of them were hungry. Their stomachs were clenched from the events of the day before, even if it was none of their business, just because seeing Lydia out of her element was a huge surprise to all of them.

Fatin groped beside her with narrowed eyes, as if she wanted to go back to sleep, but sat up a little more alarmed. The side that Lydia used to occupy next to her in the towel was empty and cold, as if the girl had been up for a long time, and although that puzzled Fatin, she thought she would have gone to pee or satisfy any other needs. Fatin smirked to herself.

Because the truth was, she knew what was going on between her and Shelby. Come on, it had been obvious! From the beginning she had felt Shelby's glances at her friend, the attempts to flirt with her with brief physical contacts, the smiles she managed to get out of her. Fatin had already warned Lydia, but she, far from paying attention, had fallen into the temptation of the Texan. Of course, the cellist would say nothing even to Lydia: she would wait for the British to confess because she didn't want to make it too uncomfortable for her.

So she glanced at Shelby to see if she knew where Lydia had gone, but she found green eyes staring at her, concerned, almost searching for an explanation, and Fatin didn't like that at all. "She's off to pee. She'll come back soon."

Five minutes, ten, twenty minutes passed, and the British still hadn't returned, so the mood in the camp began to go downhill. Dot approached Fatin to check her makeshift bed. "Her glasses are here. And I told her not to take her sling, only if she was sleeping. She's not one to disobey."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shelby chimed in, getting up and walking over to the others.

"Guys, she's probably lost there," Martha contributed, a loving and sweet tone taking over the situation.

Leah sat up quickly, her blue eyes wide and her voice faltering. "We have to find her."

"Are we sure this is the proper environment, given, you know...?" Rachel trailed off, and this only elicited a glare from Leah.

"I would never hurt her. I would never hurt Lydia."

"It's okay, Leah, that's not what we said," Dot tried to calm the tension. "We are eight, so we can split and look for her. Rachel and Nora can go together, and Toni and Martha. Leah, you come with me," the other Texan said, knowing that she was the only one who could control Leah if things got ugly.

Fatin took Shelby by the arm and gave her a consoling look. "We can go together. We'll find her. That bitch must be in the lake," the cellist tried to make Shelby smile, for her unease could be seen for miles.

Clasping her own hands to keep her anxiety out of the way, Nora glanced at Fatin and Shelby, by far the most concerned about Lydia's whereabouts. She knew she shouldn't have done that, she deeply regretted it, she would never have put herself under those circumstances before. But otherwise Lydia would've talked and all her secrets would be revealed. She wanted to hit herself because she did know where the British girl was, but who knew in what conditions? She had beaten her and left her in the middle of the forest and hadn't even looked back.

Rachel, oblivious to her sister's concerns, grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Dot, Leah, Shelby, and Fatin, who walked into the woods through the camp, while the two sisters, Toni and Martha walked away. They were nearing the back of the island, where it would be easier to find the lake. The four girls just looked at each other and said nothing, because they knew that Lydia's disappearance was even rarer than when both she and Fatin had left the camp. They all knew that Lydia wouldn't leave that long, especially without saying anything.

"Lydia!" Leah screamed, pushing her way through the trees. She felt terribly guilty, as if the fact that Lydia had left had been her fault. She knew that the other girls were not exactly her biggest fans, and that the British girl had disappeared hours after their fight did not make her look like an angel.

"Lydia, where are you?" Dot repeated over and over, to no avail. She struggled to hide it, but she was beginning to be truly concerned about the girl's whereabouts. If the other four girls had found her at the lake, they would have warned by now, and the fact that they kept looking without success made her hair stand on end. "Lydia!"

"What the fuck is happening, Fatin?" Shelby asked the cellist in a shaky voice. "She wouldn't just leave like this."

Oblivious to Leah's thoughts, Shelby also felt a little guilty. The day before hadn't been quite the way she'd wanted, and the worst thoughts raced through her head as she thought she hadn't done enough for Lydia. She swallowed hard when Fatin squeezed her hand, and at that moment it was clear to her that Fatin knew everything, but still she said nothing. "I don't know, but we'll find her."

A few feet away, Dot and Leah were still calling out Lydia's name, and Leah felt even worse than when they had set out to find her and Fatin's weeks ago. Her voice cracked, her vision was clouded, and she felt her feet were off balance: what had started as an innocent search had turned into tremendous worry.

Suddenly Dot froze, her gaze fixed on a point in the bushes and felt herself turn pale. "Holy shit. HOLY FUCKING SHIT, LEAH. WHAT THE FUCK," the Texan ran to an inert body among the fallen leaves, making out Lydia's blonde hair in a ponytail, now full of mud, dirt and dry leaves. "Guys. GUYS."

Leah literally felt sick. The British girl's body was face down, but her hair and the clothes she was wearing were unmistakable. She wasted no time in approaching her, crouching next to Dot, and discovering to her horror that her face was stained with dirt and her pale skin was covered with blood. They made out an open wound at the root of her hair, and with an alarmed look they knew that Lydia had been there longer than they would have liked.

"Lydia, come on. Wake up. Wake up!" Dot took her in her arms, tapping her cheeks gently and thus staining herself, but the British didn't move.

"Did you find her? Where?" Dot and Leah heard Shelby's voice behind them, and they didn't have to wait long for Fatin and Shelby's whimpers of horror.

"We don't know what happened, she was here when we arrived and she—" sobbed Leah, not believing the situation. "She won't wake up and we don't know what the fuck to do."

The pain that Fatin felt in that instant was not comparable to anything, not even when she discovered her mother crying when she found out that her father was cheating on her. She felt faint, seeing her friend in that state made her want to vomit everything she had inside, but she couldn't help the tears that were accumulating in her eyes. She couldn't believe that she had thought she was in the lake when she was really lost in the woods with a wound that could have ended her life.

But her pain was not comparable to what Shelby felt. Her knees buckled and she slumped next to Dot, who was still holding Lydia, trying to wake her up or identify if there was still a pulse to save. Shelby felt tears run down her cheeks, but she was so numb she didn't make an effort to push them away. She ran her fingers over the girl's face, stained with blood, so much so that she couldn't even see her funny freckles or the little scratch marks she had on her cheekbones from the first days. Your pretty face, what happened to you?, thought the Texan.

"We have to take her to the camp. We have meds, we'll take it from there," Dot said, trying to stay calm. "Leah, help me carry her. Can any of you let the others know? We'll need as much help as possible."

Fatin knew that she did not want to be separated from her under any circumstances, but her heart forced her to choose between Shelby or her to warn the others, and she made the decision to go. With all the pain in the world and blurry vision, she took one last look at Lydia and ran toward the lake.

"What are we going to do now?" Shelby hiccupped once they left Lydia on the towel. Her eyes were still closed, her neck turned in a strange direction, and Shelby couldn't help but remember Becca. How she hadn't been able to do anything for her, how she hadn't even said goodbye, and that brought more tears to her eyes. It was happening again. Anyone who approached her was hurt.

Dot didn't respond, just ran her fingers quickly to the side of Lydia's neck, fearing the worst. But Dot took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, there's a pulse. We should clean all the blood, have a real perspective of what the injury looks like."

Leah nodded, letting out a shaky groan, and used Fatin's cloths and the water they had heated the day before. Little by little they regained the vision of Lydia's face, who did not react even to the cold water on her face, which made Leah shake her a couple of times but Dot stopped her for fear that they would break something delicate.

They heard footsteps crashing against the sand, hurriedly, and then Fatin's shouts that they were here. The remaining four girls stared at the scene in horror, not believing what was in front of their eyes. "Fuck," Toni was the first to run towards the others. "What happened to her?"

"She must've slipped and hit her head, we don't know, we found her there and she looked so... helpless," Leah trailed off, her eyes not looking at anything in particular. She couldn't think straight. She just couldn't.

"Dottie, what do we do?!" Shelby urged, kneeling by the towel, refusing to leave Lydia alone. She cared little for comments and opinions anymore —if she was honest, she hadn't even thought about them once since they'd found Lydia— she just wanted to make sure the girl's life didn't slip through her fingers.

Dot shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to leak out. "I don't know, I don't know!"

Toni bent down and poured out the contents of the black bag full of medicines and other wound-healing utensils. She stirred the peroxide and cotton between the gloves, the bandages, and the plasters, and nodded to herself several times. "Martha's mom is a nurse. She often would heal my injuries from playing basketball and whenever I had an ugly one, she would use stitches," the player shook a small package that included thread, stitches, and scissors so small Dot was sure she couldn't use them. "I've only done this a couple of times in my life and I can't promise this will be alright, but I can try."

The others nodded, a little more hopeful. Dot and Leah ran to provide Toni with the supplies she needed —water, bandages, a towel to clean up the oozing blood. Martha was the only one who stayed with the basketball player, after all, it was her own mother who was the professional, so she decided to stay close if she could help with something.

Rachel squeezed her sister's hand as the needle in Toni's hand made contact with the pale skin of the inert girl, as if trying to mitigate the pain she felt that way. Nora squeezed back, an expression as guilty as it was concerned on her face. It was her who had caused this, it was her who had left without reaching out for help, she'd been the one to hit her! Lydia didn't deserve this, and Nora knew the British would be torn between life and death this morning.

"Is she... Is she alright?" Nora hesitated, knowing it was a stupid question, but Dot understood what she meant, so she just shook her head gravely. "Will she be alright?"

"I don't know," Dot answered truthfully.

Shelby allowed herself to be embraced by Fatin when Dot spoke those words, totally losing control over her body and crying into the cellist's shirt. Fatin squeezed her eyes shut, two fresh tears leaking out and rolling down her cheeks, sniffing. She couldn't stay strong much longer, with Shelby sobbing in her arms and the girl she had learned to love so much dying without her being able to do anything.

"I know you know," Shelby muttered through tears, her voice taking on a nasal tone. She raised her head slightly, and Fatin saw her pale face. "About me and Lydia," she hesitated.

"I know since the beginning, since any of you even knew," Fatin chuckled a bit. "She caught your eye and she soon fell for it, too. I know you've been trying to keep her mind off things, and given her circumstances lately it seems like it's been working," Fatin then pretended to seal her lips. "But I won't tell anything to anyone. Your secret's safe with me."

"She's your best friend, I get it. You wouldn't hurt her."

Fatin shook her head, and Shelby found her completely sincere when she spoke. "She's my friend, but I would never do anything to hurt any of you, Shelby."

"I don't know what I'd do without her," the Texan admitted. "I know it's too soon, and that's probably why it scares me so much, but I haven't got the chance to tell her yet. I think I—"

Fatin shook her head and shushed her. "I know. You tell her once she wakes up. It's her who deserves to hear it first."

Shelby clung to the cross around her neck, small and golden, delicate, almost like the girl lying a few feet away right now. Shelby's voice was shaking, and Fatin understood why: she kept struggling between what was right and what she thought was wrong. But Shelby didn't let go of the cross for an instant. "I've hurt her. I wasn't there when she needed me to be. It's happening again. Everyone I touch, I hurt."

"What are you saying, Shelby?"

"The truth!" Shelby screamed. "I said horrible things to her, I pushed her away when it was my fault, I pushed her to do that when she was a good person."

But Fatin knew she wasn't referring to Lydia. So she left her alone, let her sit down again, but this time on a rock, alone, away from the others, and when she was better she would know how to come back.

"Guys, it's done," Toni announced a while later. Her hands were bloody and her face was permanently disgusted, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed into a fine line. She knew that she had already done her part. "We should check her temperature every now and then, you know, to control she's still... stable."

"Okay, I can take care of that," Dot nodded. She cleaned the cloth Toni had used to treat the wound, which looked much better. Dot winced at the poorly aligned stitches, but patted Toni on the shoulder anyway: covering the wound was the only thing that could save her life right now. "She's lost a lot of blood, man," Dot muttered for only Toni and Martha to hear. "You should've seen how the ground around her looked like. A fucking crime scene. It'll be a fucking miracle if she wakes up and is in her normal state again."

"What do you think happened to her?" Martha whispered.

Dot shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know, really. She must've tripped and fallen, but that wound is a nasty one. I don't even want to imagine what could've happened if we didn't go look for her. What do we do now, doc?"

"Now we wait," Toni simply answered.

The rubber ball bounced off the wall and headed straight to Lydia's hands, who looked bored. Agent Young had given her that ball, knowing she had nothing else to do in there, and if she went another twenty-four hours doing nothing, she would go crazy. The British bounced it again but this time it didn't land in her hands, but misjudged the trajectory and drifted toward the door.

With a huff, Lydia got up and picked up the ball. She leaned out the window out of sheer curiosity, not knowing what she would find on the other side, since they hadn't let her out of there once. The quarantine period, the agents said, but she couldn't care less. She had lost track of time locked up there, she didn't know how many days she hadn't seen the sunlight, she missed the other girls and was surprised to find herself thinking that she also missed her parents.

She fell on her back leaning against the wall, saddened by the situation. She knew they were probably watching her, so she was partly glad that they could feel guilty. But could the people who kept them there feel guilty? Lydia felt like an animal in the zoo, as if she was being watched twenty-four hours a day for sheer entertainment.

Suddenly the light went out momentarily. She went to the door in case someone came in to fix the light, but it came back and an alarm went off. Lydia's heart raced and she looked everywhere, as if she had been the cause, as if trying to discover what was the origin of that infernal sound.

"Allergy alert. Allergy alert," a robotic voice repeated.

And Lydia's world stopped. If the girls were there, the only one with a known allergy was Shelby. She pounded on the door hard, hurting herself against the metal that separated the nurses running from one side of the room to the other. "Shelby. Is it Shelby? Please, tell me!" The British shouted, but her voice was barely heard from the other side.

She kicked the door, punched it and even tried to open it by applying some pressure, knowing that all effort would be useless, but the door gave in, and when she thought she had succeeded, two men entered her room and tried to hold her.

"Please, I just want to know if it's Shelby. Please," she sobbed. The nurses said nothing, they only tried to hold her to calm down, but far from that, Lydia's blood boiled inside her, and without knowing how she got rid of the two men and left the room for the first time in what seemed like months. "SHELBY!"

She ran through the corridors without knowing where she was going, just blindly following the sound of the alarm and the path followed by the nurses she had seen from the glass. She hurt her feet every time she put them on the ground, because she was barefoot and her speed was high, knowing that the nurses would be following her.

"SHEL—"

A hand covered her mouth, and although Lydia struggled to scream, she was dragged by a force greater than her own into a room. The room was poorly lit, but Lydia could catch a glimpse of Leah's blue eyes glowing in the dark. "Lydia," the girl whispered.

"Leah," Lydia burst into tears at that moment but held her tight. Leah reciprocated the hug despite everything, because despite everything that had happened between them, Leah knew that Lydia was the only one on her side, and vice versa. "What are you doing here? What is this?"

"I'm hiding. I escaped my room, trying to find something that tells me what the fuck is this," Leah was talking very fast, and Lydia understood: they didn't have much time. "I saw Shelby yesterday. She's doing okay. She says she believes us," Lydia smiled through tears.

"Have you seen any of the others?" Leah shook her head. "Are they even alive?"

"Everything will be okay, Lydia. That's what you used to say to me, remember? I need to get out of here, but they can't catch me or they'll suspect we don't trust them. I have to find something, I don't know what, but something that tells me this is fucked up."

"I can buy you time. I'll keep them busy, do whatever you need to do. Good luck," she gave Leah one last hug, kissing her cheek briefly, and before leaving the room she looked both ways to check that there was no one waiting for her on the other side.

Lydia gave her one last look before disappearing down the hall. She ran again, looking for the room the alarm had come from, which was still ringing faintly, as if the emergency was ending. She caught a glimpse of a door going down some stairs, red like her own, with a small peephole and a name tag, but without her glasses she couldn't read. She ran hoping it was Shelby's and she could make sure she was okay, but before she could knock on the door, she was picked up by someone.

"No, no! Please put me down! I just want to know if she's okay, please," she sobbed once again. "Shelby, SHELBY!" And the orderlies led her to her room, leaving Lydia unaware that Shelby had heard her from inside her room.

The girl calmed down considerably when the needle dug into her skin, injecting a strong tranquilizer into the girl's body, who was laid on the bed by one of the nurses while the other made sure that the door wouldn't open again. She sobbed some more in her bed, wondering if Shelby would be okay, if Leah had managed to find something to help her figure out what this was all about and hoped they hadn't discovered her.

She opened her eyes momentarily, but she was very sleepy. Everything felt light and it was a bit difficult for her to make out what was in front of her, but her breath hitched when the figure of her grandmother appeared in front of her. "Granny? Oh, granny, I miss you so much. You have to help me, please, you have to look for me. I don't know where I am, but the plane crashed and we ended up in a deserted island and you probably think I'm dead by now."

"I am looking for you, honey, I am. You're okay now. You'll be alright."

"But Shelby...," Lydia trailed off, her eyes slowly closing and her mind dozing off. "Shelby will be okay? I just want her to be okay."

Her grandmother smiled fondly at her, as she always did whenever Lydia needed comfort. "I'm sure she'll be okay, too. Now have some rest. You deserve it."

Lydia Winston considered herself born again that night, her eyes weakly opening up to the midnight sky.