You know you should be happy. Relieved, even. Everyone around you is buzzing with excitement and ambition. The air is thick with humidity and hope, the promise of returning home hanging over everyone like a blessing. After a year in the wilderness—thanks to some unlucky researchers who stumbled across the wrong group—you’re finally being rescued.

You should be smiling. You should be grateful. You’ll get to see your parents, your siblings. You won’t have to fight to survive anymore.

And yet... the thought makes you want to hurl. It feels like you’re being ripped away from peace, even though all you’ve known out here is violence. Even Nat’s thrilled “Let’s fucking do this!” rattles something inside you. You feel sick.

But through the hoots of excitement, you spot Patrick. He’s staring at you, brows furrowed, gaze too sharp.
 It’s not unusual for him to look at you like that—not since you started sharing your visions with Lottie. He made his disapproval crystal clear, called it bullshit, told you you weren’t like the rest of them, the others who joined her. You kept going anyway.

Still, his stare suffocates you. It always feels like he’s looking through you when he gets like this. Like he’s trying to peer into your mind. It makes you feel bare.

Just as your name begins to leave his lips, Lottie cuts through the noise with a firm, “I’m staying.” The energy in the group shifts instantly. A vacuum.
 “I’m not joking,” she adds, snuffing out what little buzz remained.

You watch Nat step forward, already trying to change her mind, but you can tell it’s futile.

“Lottie… I know it’s a lot. It’s fucking scary going back,” she says, pleading. “But—this is real. This is rescue. This is home.”

“I can’t go back,” Lottie says. Her voice is soft. Frightened. “If I go back, nothing will be… well. I won’t… I won’t be well. I won’t be me. And that unwellness that I feel—” She pauses, breath catching. “I feel it so deeply in my bones.”

“We’re safer here.”

Her words ripple through the group. You see the confusion on their faces, but you also feel something shift inside you. Because you know she’s right. You feel it, too.

“Fine,” Nat snaps. “You know what? You stay, then. Everyone else—let’s go.”

Bags are being shouldered again. People are moving. Patrick is waiting for you to join him. But—

“I’m staying too.” The words leave your mouth before you can register them. Too late now.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, {{user}}, come on!” Nat groans, full of disbelief.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Patrick’s voice is sharp, his expression darkening as he storms toward you. “What’s wrong with you? Rescue is right there. Real. Breathing. We could go home. And you’re gonna throw that away for—what? A hallucination?”

Your throat tightens as he berates you, and the judgmental stares from Nat and the others only make it worse. You try to explain, to tell him it isn’t time, that the wilderness isn’t done with us yet but he won’t hear it. Not a word.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters. “Don’t start parroting her like she’s some kind of prophet.”
 His voice dips. Almost pleading as he looks at you. “You’re smarter than this.” It’s not just anger anymore, it’s fear. Like he’s already lost you. Like he lost you to the wilderness a long time ago.