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He was silent for a moment, tapping his pen against his papers. Hesitation crept into his voice when he spoke again. “Did you learn anything about the conditions she was kept in?”

“What?” her voice was like ice.

“We don’t know the full magnitude of the situation.” He waved his hand in the air, frantic for the first time. “If I can generate a report on how dangerous this man is, we might secure more resources for the investigation—”

“Obviously, she was sexually abused,” Trinity interrupted.

“I managed an initial exam when she was first brought to me. However, she now refuses further treatment and given her current mental state, we can’t compel her to do it.

I can treat her to the best of my ability, but remember, I am a general practitioner, not a pediatric gynecologist. However, the patterns of her outward injuries also suggest that she was hunted for sport. ”

My thoughts turned dizzy. It was the worst possible outcome I could have imagined.

“Eric Richards and his people are wolves,” she said. “You’re searching for shifters.”

Bianca POV

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Reed’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I glanced at her. “Did something happen?”

She and Julian had been conversing on the other side of a borrowed office, and I was taking advantage of quiet as I still shivered from a feeling I couldn’t quite place.

When I’d woken up, everything had seemed normal. My face was dry, I was back in bed, and the nurses seemed the same. Had I imagined the night before?

It was possible. I’d also had that very weird dream. I might even be going crazy.

I couldn’t tell Dr. Reed. It would make everything worse. I couldn’t act suspicious. I hadn’t even realized they were paying attention to me.

“I’m fine.”

“Bianca,” she said and waited until I looked at her to continue. “You’re clearly not fine, and there’s only so much I can do at this juncture. Your parents will not approve your discharge until there is significant improvement.”

I blinked at her. Improvement with what?

“What?” she asked.

“Um,” I began. “What—what do you mean?”

“You need to talk to someone,” she told me. “Do you think you’re able to discuss things with Dr. Nam now?”

I pushed back on the seat and wrapped my arms around my knees. My attention wandered between the two of them before lingering on Julian.

Right now, Julian was my doctor, not my friend. This distinction was glaringly obvious even in our positions. He sat across from me, near his mother, and when Dr. Reed touched his arm as he moved to come to me, he had stopped.

The look in his eyes made my soul ache.

With difficulty, my focus tore from his and returned to hers. “Talk about what?”

What did they want from me ?

“Bianca,” she said, her shoulders drooping. “You need to, eventually, discuss what happened before you were adopted.”

The ground dropped out from under me, and my senses went numb. “Wh-what?”

“Eventually—” she said again, but I cut her off.

“Why?” My heart stuttered and began to race once more, and I sounded strange. “I can’t go back!”

“Go back where?” she asked. “To Eric Richards?”

His name filled the air, poisoning the space. “Y-y-yes,” I answered.

“ Bianca .” Her voice startled me out of my panic. My heart pounded as our eyes met, and there was a steely determination in her gaze. “You’ve been made well aware that you’d never be returned there,” she said. “Everyone has told you this. So where’s this fear coming from?”

I pulled my knees closer to my chest, trying to get warm. “That’s not what he—he said…”

“What who said?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“The—the man in the suit,” I told her. “The one who talked to me when I was first adopted.”

“I know the man.” There was a chill in her voice that frightened me. “What exactly did he say?”

“He said—” I began. My vision blurred. “He wanted to talk about Mr—Mr. Richards. He said they would take me back—they needed me to show them. But I-I don’t want to go.”

“He was wrong.” Dr. Reed’s voice was firm, and I looked at her over my knees. “And he was severely reprimanded for approaching you. Abigail has only ever wanted you to focus on your recovery. The detectives do not require your assistance for their investigation.”

“Recovery?” I blinked. “W-why?”

She continued speaking in that same tone that caused my skin to prickle. “For what happened during your time with Eric Richards.”

The ground seemed to fall out from under me, and I could scarcely breathe. My thoughts scattered as panic took over. They couldn’t make me talk about it.

“Nothing happened,” I said, shuddering as my throat burned. It hurt so much. I closed my eyes as my skin began to hum, and when I opened them again, my body felt warm.

“Is that true?” she asked, but she didn’t seem convinced. “So then, why are you afraid to go back there?”

“I—” I looked past her—past Julian’s stricken form—and breathed. This room, at least, had a really big window, and I watched a leafy branch swaying in the wind. How could I explain? “I don’t get along with a boy who lived there.”

I couldn’t let him find me. If he found me, I’d be trapped again.

“Why?” she asked. “Who is he?”

“Someone who…” I began, shaking my head. I breathed in and forced the knot in my shoulders to release. “I thought he was my friend.” When neither responded, I added, “It doesn’t matter. Can I go now? I want to sleep.”

She studied me. “Yes,” she said finally, and Julian stood.

By the time he held his hand to me, the comforting lull masking my thoughts had slipped.

But it was okay now because it was over. And, thankfully, I’d never have to talk about this again.

The muscles in his arms were tight, but his grip was soft as his hand closed around mine. The tenseness immediately retreated from my body, and I looked at him.

“Thanks,” I said, my skin flushing as I was, somehow, able to smile. I was so proud of myself. Now, there was no reason for them to be ashamed .

Nothing was wrong .

The troubled expression left his face, and my racing heartbeat began to relax. “Bianca,” he began, and I could tell he wasn’t sure which words to use. He swallowed, expressing clearing, before finally saying, “Get some sleep, you’ll be safe. I promise.”

I nodded.

The lights flickered on, illuminating the shadowy figure stalking Finn. It was familiar to me now, as it’d been something I dreamt about since the first time I’d seen it.

The figure should go away soon. It always did.

But this time, it didn’t.

Instead, it came closer to me, and the smoke-like figure spoke.

“—wish for me to leave him alone?” It sounded female, speaking with an aloof and almost mocking tone, and I realized that I missed some of the conversation. “What are you willing to give me in return?”

Words jumbled together, hers and mine, but everything remained stubbornly out of reach. I knew what happened next. Fear washed over me, and the only sound I could focus on was that of my own heart.

She was pleased. Her golden eyes watched mine, and she reached a limb-like appendage toward me. “You agree?”

I was that child again, and I’d been petrified. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to touch this thing. I knew it was a memory, but everything felt so real.

I wanted to run away. I wanted to say no.

But Finn would die.

I had no choice. “Y-y-yes.”

And then there was the pain—the fire that spread through my every nerve. I was being burned alive.

I jerked awake for the second time in two days. Even though it hadn’t been real and I wasn’t there, the memory of that day still caused me pain.

“Bianca?” Damen’s voice, thick with sleep, pulled my attention from the remnants of my dream. The fire vanished as my attention shot toward the corner of the room.

Damen was pushy and annoying, and he made my heart race. I should have been happy to see him, but seeing him as he lay out between two chairs caused a surge of annoyance to shoot through me.

Out of everyone , why did it have to be him?

The surge of emotion faded quickly, and guilt immediately replaced it. This was a good thing, right?

Goosebumps broke out over my skin. “D-D-Damen?”

He rubbed his eyes as he shook his head. An instant later, the sleep wiped from his face, and he was on his feet, rushing to me.

“Bianca,” he said as he sat on the bed, facing me. Close, but not touching. When he said my name this time, his voice was strange. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I’m studying here for a bit,” he explained, pointing to himself. His face beamed with pride. “I convinced Gregory that I need it for my dissertation.”

Oh, Lord.

Why did he look as though he’d just solved world hunger? What even was this plan? There were so many issues that I couldn’t even begin. Most glaring was: “Didn’t you repeatedly state that you have no interest in clinical psychology? You’re in forensics. They aren’t the same thing.”

How had these boys made it so far in life without my wisdom ?

“I know that.” Damen jutted out his bottom lip. “But the undergraduate degree is the same.”

I rubbed my temples as a migraine began to form. “This isn’t discreet at all,” I muttered.

He wasn’t even dressed for the part!

“You’re not wearing scrubs,” I pointed out, noting his rumpled shirt and jeans. Everyone wore scrubs—even Julian. “You’re not even trying.”

“You’re not happy to see me?” Damen leaned closer. We were close, but the intensity between us seemed different. But I couldn’t put my finger on how. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to leave?”

The room was getting too hot, and it was harder to breathe. “N-no.”

“Perfect,” he said. Then, he suddenly stood up and walked to the door. I watched, confused, as he opened it and said something to someone on the other side. He returned to his previous position in front of me.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I frowned at him. There was something wrong.