Van grips her bag tighter, eyes darting between the others as the weight of Lottie’s words settles over the group.

“I’m not going.”

It’s like a switch flips. First Lottie, then Shauna. And then—

“I’m staying too.” You drop your bag.

Your voice is steady, sure, and Van’s stomach drops.

She turns to you so fast it’s like she didn’t even hear the others. Like none of this matters except you. Her bag drops from her hand, almost unconsciously. “No. No, you’re not. You’re not staying here!”

You square your shoulders. “I am.”

Van shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping. “No. No. Pick it up. You don’t mean that. You’re just caught up in the moment.”

“No, Van. I’ve been thinking about this. I don’t—” You hesitate, eyes flickering to the others before settling back on her. “I don’t know if I can go back.”

Van exhales sharply, her expression caught somewhere between frustration and something rawer, something that looks a hell of a lot like fear.

“You can’t go back?” she repeats, incredulous. “Do you hear yourself? We’re about to be rescued.”

“And then what?” you snap, stepping closer. “Go back to pretending? Back to a world that’s never going to understand any of this? Any of us?”

Van’s jaw clenches. She doesn’t want to argue, but she needs you to understand. “I don’t care about them. I care about you. And you—” she exhales sharply, shaking her head. “You can’t stay here. We weren’t meant to stay.”

You see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. That tiny, traitorous part of her that isn’t sure if she even believes what she’s saying.

You reach for her hand, and she lets you, but it’s tense, reluctant.

“I don’t think I can leave,” you admit, voice quieter now, pleading.

Van stares at you, something breaking in her expression. “You’re not staying here.”