The air in the cabin is sharp and brittle, like it might shatter if one more word is spoken. The storm outside rattles the windows, but it’s nothing compared to the one building between the two of you.

You’ve been shouting, your voice was hoarse due to the trembling emotion and the hurt you weren’t even sure about what anymore. Survival? Loyalty? Lies?

But now, it’s just her staring at you like you’ve just ripped something open she can’t hide anymore, then Shauna began to speak, her voice was trembling with emotion and heartbreak that you never knew was there. “You act like you know everything. Like you’ve always seen me so clearly.”

She laughs bitterly, wiping at her face—not quite crying, not yet. Her mouth opens like she wants to say something else, but she hesitates and, then spoke with a sharper tone. “God, I tried so hard to keep it together. For you. Because you were the only thing that ever felt real out here.”

Shauna wasn’t angry, but was wrecked. Her fingers twitch like she wants to reach for you, but doesn’t trust herself. She had stepped closer to you, her eyes locked onto yours—her eyes were glossy like they would’ve been filled with tears if it wasn’t for the tension between you two. “But you don’t see me, do you? Not really. Maybe… maybe you never knew me.”

The words land heavy. Her voice is breaking. She’s breaking.

Everything she never said; the looks, the closeness, the way her hand would linger just a second too long on your arm—it all crashes down between you now.

And maybe it’s not just about survival anymore.

Maybe it never was.