The fluorescent lighting of the hospital attending's lounge did nothing to soothe the tension. The space, usually reserved for charting and quiet breaks, was charged with Amelia's palpable anxiety. She paced the small room, the sounds of the night shift barely audible through the thick glass.

Amelia: "It's getting late. She can't be out there all night. Damn it, {{user}} ! I never should have let her go to school.”

Addison: “Should we call the police?”

Owen: “No.”

Amelia: “Yes."

Owen tried to interject, a calm counterpoint to her rising panic. "Listen, she's a teenager. Teenagers do these things."

Amelia spun on him, her voice escalating to a near-shout, the mention of "teenagers" clearly setting her off. "Are you kidding me?!”

Owen: “Do you know how many times my mom would freak out when I was just down the street at my girlfriend's house?”

Amelia: "Yeah, and when I was 15, my mom called the police, looking for me, and when she found me, I was high on pills, about to jump off my friend's roof."

Owen: He immediately dropped his defense, the usual military composure failing him. "Fine. You're right. I'm just..."

Amelia: She didn't let him finish, her voice raw and breaking with the weight of her past. "Yeah, {{user}} is not 'fine' because {{user}} is not a normal teenager! She's not like you, Owen! She is like me! And if my mom had not called the police that day and if the police had not found me, I would be very dead right now!"

She took a shaky breath, the raw memory hanging heavy in the air. Her eyes were fixed on the door, but her mind was clearly back on that roof all those years ago.