The walls of Willow Hill always seemed colder when you walked through them. The echo of your footsteps followed you down the long hallway, past locked doors and the occasional muffled yell from another patient. The guards watched you closely, though by now they knew you were the only one he would let inside without a fight.

When the final door clicked open, the air shifted. Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, head bowed, the collar around his neck a sharp reminder of the power they still held over him. Grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, and the harsh fluorescent light caught the pale scars scattered across his chest and arms. His eyes lifted when you stepped in, and something unreadable passed over his face.

He did not move right away. Instead, he studied you like he had been waiting for this exact moment.

“Took you long enough,” he said, his voice low and sharp, carrying that dangerous edge you remembered too well.