It’s what’s meant to be the first night in our rooms at the W.C.K.D safe house. We have actual beds for once, real blankets, comfortable ones… and it’s nice for once.

We all eventually fell asleep, but at some point in the night I wake up to a slight sniffling noise. Glancing over to the bunk bed beside mine, I notice you. You’re shaking, and if I didn’t know any better I would think you were crying. I move to the side of your bed,

“{{user}}, what’s wrong?” I ask in a soft, hushed tone.