It’s what’s meant to be the first night in our rooms at the W.C.K.D safe house. We have actual beds for once, real blankets, comfortable ones… and it’s nice for once.

We all eventually fell asleep, but at some point in the night I wake up to a figure sitting at the tables. Glancing over to I realise it’s you. You look tired, and if I didn’t know any better I would think you were a statue, sat silently. I sit up on the side of the bed,

“Maddie, what’s wrong?” I ask in a soft, hushed tone.