Page 122 of Hide From Me

She shakes her head and finally lifts her eyes to mine. The weight of her gaze feels unbearable. “I don’t know what that means anymore.”

I want to reach for her. God, Ineedto. But the IV tugs at my arm, and the space between us feels wider than it’s ever been—like we’re on opposite sides of a canyon, yelling across the void.

“Ray,” I say, careful and slow. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I thought I had more time. I thought I could control the moment you found out.”

Her laugh is soft, bitter, almost a scoff. “You thought you could control the truth?”

“No. I... there was a lot involved that made it difficult, but I thought I could make it easier,” I admit, because that’s what it was.

Her eyes are sharp now, cutting through me like glass. “That’s not your decision to make.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I know that now.”

She hugs her arms tighter across her chest, as if trying to hold herself together.

Fuck baby just let me hold you instead.

“I didn’t come here for a fight.” She mutters.

“Then why did you come?” My voice sounds desperate, but I don’t care, because a surge of hope rises within me, raw and messy. I need to know—I need something to hold onto before I slip under again.

“Because…” She hesitates, looking down at her hands and fidgeting with the frayed edge of her sleeve. “I needed to see for myself that you were still alive.”

My heart twists so hard I can barely breathe. “That’s all?”

I brace for the answer, even though I’m not sure I can survive it

“Laura took the fall, by the way,” Raylen says suddenly. “She technically told me everything, so you don’t have to worry about consequences. Or whatever it is that would’ve happened since I found out.”

She’s not looking at me—just staring somewhere past the foot of my bed, like she’s reading a script off the wall. Like if she focuses on anything but me, the words will sting less going down.

“She also told me not to tell you. Said you’d hate her even more than the time she told Caspian you were suicidal.”

My jaw locks tight. A vein ticks in my temple.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath, dragging a hand over my face with a groan. I don’t want to do this, not this way— not with her spewing other people’s guilt just to dodge her own fear.

“Sunshine, I don’t fucking care about any of this. Don’t you understand—”

“I had a long sit-down with Sharkie,” she cuts me off, like she didn’t hear me. Or maybe she just doesn’t want to.

“She explained things better. Why it was so secret. What I signed, what it protects. Something about them enforcing new NDA terms. How families can finally know. How people can understand what kind of world their loved ones are living in—and the odds of them coming home.” Her voice is steady, but she’s rambling now, running on fumes and avoidance.

“So, at leastsomething good came out of it.” She shrugs like it’s a casual thing. Like the world didn’t crack open the night I bled out on her floor.

This is a long-ass monologue I can barely follow—noble in theory, sure, but it floats around my head like smoke. Because what’s the point? What does it matter if the one person I wanted to break the rules for—didbreak the rules for—is now standing across the room talking like she’s already packed up and gone?

I stare at her, try to keep my voice calm. Steady.

“Raylen.”

She doesn’t answer.

“Ray,” I try again, a little lower, a little softer. I tilt my head toward her, willing her to meet my eyes. “Is that all?”

Her mouth tightens, and a flicker of something dangerous sparks behind her eyes.

“What else is there, Moe?” she snaps, suddenly on fire. “I watched you bleed. I listened to your brother scream. Ifeltthe moment your friends broke. I held my breath for three fucking days not knowing if I’d ever hear your voice again, then another nine wondering if it would've been easier to let you go if you were dead or like this.”