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T he first thing I noticed was warmth. I had been feeling cold for so long, my body going numb, succumbing to the horrible burn inside of me. But the burn was gone now…and I felt nothing. Nothing except for the warmth that wrapped around me. And it was soft, cozy.

The next thing I noticed was the steady beeping sound.

It was soft, but it came every five seconds, consistent and dependable.

And frankly, it was annoying, which is why I took in a deep, slow breath.

It felt good, full and deep, but it also caused a sting in my lungs, surprising me, and my eyes flew open.

I was in a familiar room, all white and sterile.

My face was turned toward a window, and sunshine slipped in through the partially closed blinds.

It only took me another moment to notice the monitor beeping beside me, as well as the IV bag hanging with a delicate clear tube dipping down and then up onto my bed, attached to the needle nestled in the crook of my elbow.

A hospital. I was in the hospital.

I blinked several times, trying to remember everything that happened.

Finding Jacob, that horrible shrill alarm, and the never-ending wave of hellhounds.

I remembered my brother, limp, hanging from a line connected to Matias.

And Blondie…she was there, too. And Wes.

I remembered Wes fighting off those things, and I remembered helping him. We almost escaped, but then…

I fell.

I fell, and I drowned.

My heart pounded as the memory of being lost in the depths of the ocean sent fear jolting through me.

Suddenly, I was back in the sea, fighting to hold my breath, fighting to breathe.

And the burn. The burn of the ocean water as it assaulted my lungs felt like it was happening all over again.

I started hyperventilating, but the air I dragged into my lungs stung, causing me to panic more.

How was I still drowning? How was I back in the sea when I was in a warm bed just seconds ago?

I was dying all over again. Drowning all over again!

“Mara!”

I heard him — his voice—but it was so dark in the water. So dark and heavy.

“Mara!” His voice screamed at me again. But I kept drowning, suffocating in the deep abyss.

“Come back to me, Mara…”

Wes? Where was he? How could he be here? Or was this some cruel joke my mind was playing on me? Some sick, twisted way of punishing me even more for what I had done?

“Mara!” This time, his voice was shrill and desperate. “Stay with me!”

And then it all snapped into place. A sharp breath, several rapid blinks, and suddenly I was back in the hospital. Warm, dry, safe. And standing right over me, hands cradling my cheeks, was Wes.

My vision focused on him as my chest rose and fell with jagged breaths. Was it really him? Was I really safe? Was I actually alive? How could I still be alive?

“Hey,” he whispered gently. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassured. His eyes burned like molten gold and glistened with tears that looked near to falling. But he cleared his throat, swallowing back his own emotions.

“Wes?” I still couldn’t believe it. I still couldn’t believe that, after all of that, I was still alive. We were still alive.

“It’s me,” he reassured me as he stroked my hair.

Relief washed over me, but no sooner than it did, every ounce of fear that had rattled me to my core at that stupid prison came rushing back with a vengeance.

I blinked several times, feeling the tears fill my vision, and then I broke.

A sob escaped my lips, the tears began to flow, and every piece of me collapsed into itself as my body shook with the intensity of it all.

Because I had died.

Because I saw Jim murdered right before my eyes.

Because I thought I had lost Matias, only to save him.

Because I saw my brother again, and then almost lost him at the very end.

Because I saw more carnage, more blood, more grotesque imagery than I ever wished upon my enemy.

Because I rescued Jacob, only to abandon the lives of so many others.

Because Wes lived when I thought for sure he was gone forever.

Because I was alive…and I didn’t deserve to live.

It was too much for anyone. Too much trauma and horror for anyone to experience, and I crumbled under the sheer weight of it all.

I cried into my hands, shielding myself from the world, and then I felt him.

I felt Wes shift his weight in the bed, and suddenly, I was in his arms. He wrapped himself around me, pulling me into the safety of his embrace.

I smelled the clean scent of him. Not the cologne I knew him to wear, but the scent of the first spring rain and the natural freshness of eucalyptus leaves rustling in a fall breeze.

He was the end of a season and the birth of a new one all in one breath.

And with each shuddering breath, the aroma opened my lungs, expanded my airways, and gave me life as though I had never truly breathed before.

It soothed me. It eased my aching heart, calmed the storm within me, and slowly settled me until there was nothing left inside of me.

I shivered as I closed my eyes, listening to the steady thump of Wes’s heart and the firm comfort that was his arms around me, and then I exhaled, letting it all go. I felt him shift, slowly loosening his grip.

How did I screw this all up? How did I manage to completely destroy everything as badly as I did?

I gave this up. I gave up Wes. And for what?

Nothing I planned came to fruition. It all backfired, and now here I was, back where I started, back at square one.

Only this time, I had hurt one of the people I loved more than anything else, and I didn’t even know what to do about it.

Truth. Tell him the truth.

But would it be enough? If I explained to him what really happened, would he forgive me? Would he be willing to give me another chance? And even if he did…even if he forgave me for everything, it didn’t change what I was.

I was Raúl’s daughter.

I was no better than him.

And Wes deserved better.

I shuddered at the thought, scared of what it meant but confident in its truth.

And slowly, I pulled away from Wes to look at him.

Gone were the tears from his eyes, and his unreadable mask was firmly in place.

His face was mottled with bruises, and a gash above his brow was neatly sewed up with six little black stitches.

The corner of his lip was cut, but looked like it was healing okay, and I noticed his one shoulder looked bulkier than the other—probably because of swelling or bandaging under his shirt, or both. Probably both…

He looked like crap.

I wanted to tell him as much. An older version of me would have totally teased him about it. But we weren’t in that place anymore. And I wasn’t in a position to give him crap when I was sure I looked just as bad.

“Wes,” I muttered, “I need to—”

“Knock, knock,” another voice said as the actual sound of a knock greeted my ears. I looked over and saw Matias, a bouquet of daisies and lilies in his hands.

“Matias,” I said, feeling relief consume me. He was alive too. He had made it out just like Wes and me.

“Hey,” he said cheerfully. But no sooner was the word out, his eyes darting from me and then to Wes, did the energy in the room suddenly shift into an awkward place, and his smile faltered.

Wes stiffened and then cleared his throat as he stood up.

Oh no… Oh no, no, no, no. “Wes,” I started. “It’s not what it seems—”

Wes lifted a hand at me, effectively silencing my protest. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said as he walked to the door. His voice was stiff, hard, and emotionless.

“Wes,” I tried again. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t listen. He ignored me, walking out the door and out of sight.

And just like that, Wes was gone.