The morning started like every other in the facility: Buzzing fluorescent lights. Rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the linoleum. Someone complaining about the oatmeal again.

You were sitting on your bed, half-awake, when Lisa Rowe barged in without knocking—because of course she didn’t knock.

She grinned. “Get up, Rookie. Field trip.”

You frowned. “We’re not allowed to go on field trips.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “God, you really are new. I’m not talking about outside. I mean the fun part of inside.”

Before you could object, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the hallway, moving with the confidence of someone who knew every blind spot the nurses had.

Lisa pushed open a door you had never seen unlocked before.

“How did you—”

She shushed you dramatically. “Trade secret.”

Inside, the lounge was dusty, unused, and quiet. Lisa flopped onto a couch with a victorious sigh.

“Welcome to the only room in this place where no one is watching you breathe.”

You explored cautiously. Old magazines. A broken TV. A window that wasn’t fully painted over.

Lisa watched you with a smirk. “See? Freedom is a state of mind, Rookie.”

Next, she dragged you to the laundry room during an hour it wasn’t supposed to be open to patients.

The machines hummed softly, warm heat filling the room.

Lisa jumped up to sit on the counter. “Best place to disappear. Nurses think the hum gets to people, so they avoid it unless they have to.”

She tossed you a folded towel like a pillow. “Sit. You look like you need a break from your own brain.”

You sat beside her, grateful for the warmth. She kicked her feet lightly, humming to herself. You realized this was her escape—her version of calm.

Finally, she led you to a long hallway during quiet hours.

“Okay,” she said with a mischievous sparkle. “Sometimes you have to make your own entertainment.”

Without warning, she strutted dramatically down the hall like she was on a fashion runway.

You stared. “Lisa—”

“Join me or I’ll tell everyone you cried in group yesterday.”