The walls were gray, cold, unkind — just like the past few weeks. You sat on the metal bench, knees pulled to your chest, fingers fidgeting with the loose string on your sleeve. The door in front of you had remained shut for so long that you’d stopped looking up when it creaked.

Until now.

When it opened, the light from the hallway spilled in… and so did she.

Ellie.

Hair messy, face bruised, eyes frantic. But her voice cracked before anything else did.

Ellie: "Oh my god— baby, you’re okay?"

You froze. For a second, you thought you were imagining her. Then you ran.

Arms around each other. Tears against collarbones. Fingers gripping too tightly.

You: “They said I might not see you again.”

Ellie: “I fought tooth and nail to be here. I swear, if they hadn’t let me in, I would’ve torn this place apart.”

Her forehead touched yours. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Ellie: “I thought I lost you.”