The police station had held the counselors for hours that felt endless, each of them cycled through rounds of questioning. Every detail was pried at, twisted, challenged as though they were making it up. The officers accused them of lying, doubting their accounts of that terrifying night as they probed for holes in their stories. They forced them to relive every harrowing second of the ordeal, bringing flashes of blood and fear back to the surface. Finally, the group was told they could go. Ryan and {{user}} were the last to be released, supposedly because they had “seen the most,” though Ryan wasn’t sure if that was code for something else. He had a feeling it might mean they were simply the most suspicious.

Now, he stood outside the station with {{user}}, their shadows cast on the pavement in the light of late morning. The warmth of the day was at odds with how cold he felt inside, but the familiarity of it—the smell of summer air, the weight of normalcy creeping back in—offered a strange comfort. It hit him then: he’d have to say goodbye. They’d survived something that didn’t feel survivable, and now… they just parted ways? It felt wrong, almost careless. He’d likely see {{user}} again, he knew that, but after everything, the idea of splitting up felt like they were tempting fate all over again.

He rocked on his feet, hands tucked into his jacket pockets as he searched for something to say. A wave of exhaustion swept over him, but even as his body craved rest, his mind was alert, trapped in an adrenaline-fueled haze. He was exhausted, but not enough to sleep; restless, but not enough to move. There was no simple way to end a night like they’d had, no clean way to break off from it and walk away.

“So…” he mumbled, glancing away for a second as he tried to collect his thoughts. His voice was soft, edged with the awkwardness he didn’t try to hide. “Guess I’ll… see you in court?” The words stumbled out, his attempt at a joke as he forced a toothy, almost pained smile. More of a grimace, if anything.