Hello all! Well... Yeah. Last night happened. Let's pretend it didn't. I am still so angry and so disappointed, but somehow, not shocked in the slightest. I'm really good at aggressively ignoring canon (any of my stories from my Prison Break phase should tell you that) and that's exactly what I'm going to do in this story. To my wonderful, precious blueberries of anonymous reviewers, yes! I am going to write another multi-chapter fic! And here it is! Thank you for your kind words, as always. I always review-reply to everyone who reviews my stories and it makes me sad that I can't ever reply to the anons. But I love you. Thanks for being there. :)

So yeah, this one. My muse wouldn't shut the hell up and I kid you not when I say that I wrote eight chapters of this story in one week. Granted, seven of those chapters still need editing and the rest of the story needs to be written, but I guess I can throw this one out there. At first, I hesitated posting it (and SpobyFicStalker can confirm that I was a little shit about it, as always), but after last night's episode, I feel like I can take any creative liberties I want and it will still be better than the finale. So this starts off at prom and goes AU after that.

That being said, it's not a happy-go-lucky, make-you-feel-better-about-last-night story. I'm promising you now that it gets that way. It doesn't start off that way. I'm sick of nothing happening on the show. I'm sick of dumb reveals. I'm sick of the girls barely getting away every time. And so, I changed it. Please be brutally honest with me. Trust me, I can take it. If you hate it, hate it. If you like it, that's cool, too. Regardless, I'll be posting it because I need to write or else I'll never be able to sleep. The story title and the description come from the spoken word song/poem "Kite Flying" by Joseph Kerschbaum, brought to recent fame by Dance Moms. Listen to it; it was inspiration for Spoby's head space for the first five or six chapters. Anyway. Yeah. Kay. I think we're on the same page now. Any questions and my PM box is always open. Or review them. Or visit me on Tumblr at dreamsarefantasmic dot tumblr dot com. Love y'all. Stay safe out there. Radley ain't for you.


One

In the end, this is the last memory she has before everything falls apart. They're banned from their own senior prom and it turns out everything Andrew had said about them (toxic, Rosewood wants them gone) had been true all along. It's funny, now that she thinks of it, that the town deems it necessary to punish them even further, as if this whole torturous, drama-filled nightmare is their fault in the first place. She supposes it probably is; if they'd told the truth, if they'd fessed up to Jenna's downfall, if they'd stood up for themselves or never befriended Alison in the first place… Well, who knows where they'd be now? The what-ifs will never stop torturing them and she's beginning to believe –A never will, either. She isn't the type for trips to the salon, getting dolled up and attending formal events, but she was actually looking forward to prom if only to escape the trauma of her everyday life. She has a dress, she has a date and then, well, she has nothing.

Their mothers plan an elaborate, homemade prom and it's one of the most ridiculous things she's ever been a part of, but it's the thought that counts, she guesses. They end up sneaking out to the real prom, anyway. Sarah Harvey is there and Ezra Fitz and Spencer understands; really, she does. But they seem so out of place and there's an unknown tension brewing between Hanna and Caleb and she's wondering if everyone is going to fall apart the moment they leave Rosewood. She's dragged Toby reluctantly into the middle of the floor, and they're swaying slowly, arms around one another, as she wonders what's next. They were so close to unmasking –A and she'd ruined it; now, they're close to the end of the school year and she has no idea what she's doing or where she's going next, but she doesn't want to ruin this too. Toby looks pensive and Spencer bites her lip, afraid of what he's going to say. She isn't often the one with the most stable relationship and the last thing she wants to do is lose the title she'd fought so hard to win.

"We should talk about this," Toby says after a beat and when she looks up at him, he's got conflict in his eyes. He's at war with himself.

"About what?" She wonders and for some reason, her heart begins to pound.

"You," Toby tells her. "You said you were having problems again and-"

"I told you to let me say something," She frowns. "I'll do whatever I can to help you. This wasn't your fault. It was mine!"

"Not that, Spence," He sighs and rubs her arms a little. "Look, if you don't feel like you can tell me these things-"

"I do," She cuts him off, gripping his hands in her own. "I swear, I do."

"No you don't," He tells her gently. "You didn't tell me last time, either. It's okay. I mean, I'm not mad at you. I'm just… I'm worried. I don't want you to get yourself into trouble… Into more trouble."

"But I fixed it, remember?" Spencer tells him. "I stopped taking it, I went to meetings-"

"And I'm proud of you," Toby tells her. "I'm so proud of you. But if you need someone who understands it better than I do… I mean, maybe you should talk to someone. Contact your old sober coach; what's his name?"

She stills and then hurriedly shakes her head. "Yeah, Dean. No, that's not a great idea."

"Why not?"

"It's nothing," She refutes. "Really. I don't want to talk about it."

"Spencer…"

"Seriously, it's fine," Spencer insists. "It's nothing."

"What did he do?" Toby asks gently. "Did he say something? Did he hurt you?"

"No, he just…" She sighs. "He's just a typical Rosewood male."

Her boyfriend sighs, his eyes closing. "He hit on you."

"I don't want to talk about it. Please," She clutches him closer, her arms around his neck. "Can we just dance? Please?"

He nods, obliging, and locks his arms around her waist. "I'm not very good at it. I'm definitely not a dancer."

"You're fine," She murmurs. "You know there's no one I'd rather be here with than you."

He smiles, pulls back, kisses her. The theme of their senior prom has something to do with fairytales and she's dressed like Ariel in homage to The Little Mermaid, possibly one of the most ridiculous of them all. Spencer doesn't believe in fairytales; she never has. But then, something funny happened that changed her perspective, just a little. She fell in love and suddenly, things were different; The Little Mermaid is fitting for them, but not Disney's clean-cut, happy-ending version. In the original story by Hans Christian Andersen, the Little Mermaid sells her tongue for a pair of human legs and though she and the Prince grow to be great companions, he doesn't fall for her. Instead, he falls in love with a girl from the town and the Little Mermaid is offered a dagger with which to slay him and return to the sea to live out her days with her family. When the time comes, she cannot bring herself to slay the prince; she loves him too much. Instead, she sacrifices herself and dissolves into sea foam, forced to hug the shore as the Prince gets his happily ever after instead.

It's morbid and it's dark; definitely not something that Disney would approve of and so instead, King Triton kills the Sea Witch and Ariel gains her legs and her voice and she and Eric live happily ever after. But Spencer prefers the original version; call her a sadist, but it's realistic. It's them. Their entire relationship is made up of sacrifices for the good of the other; keeping the other safe, keeping the other alive, is worth the pain and suffering in the long end. She looks at him now, her confidante, her savior, the absolute love of her life, and she frames his face in her hands and kisses him soundly. Her own magical fairytale, her once upon a time, her happily ever after. There is no way she could've gotten through any of this without him.

There's a crackling sound at the back of the room and the lights dim and the music quiets just a little. Spencer lifts her head from Toby's shoulder and glances in the direction of the disturbance, just as Mona, from beside them, deadpans, "He's here."

"Who's here?" Hanna wonders.

"We have to do this now," Mona says instead. "Let's go."

"Charles decided to crash the party," Alison fills the others in. "Of course he did. We were stupid to think it wouldn't end this way."

"Wait, you guys can't do this," Toby stops them. "At least not alone."

"We tried it your way, remember?" Alison spits back. "You were too busy trying to count the colors of the air to catch him!"

"Back off of him, Ali!" Spencer roars. "That was my fault and it doesn't matter what we do, he always eludes authorities. We have to go a different way."

"Let's surround him," Caleb suggests. "Like we did when you were in that bunker. Let's get him surrounded and finally get rid of this son of a bitch."

"He'll never allow that," Mona shakes her head. "If he senses we tipped anyone off, he'll be out of there like his ass is on fire. We have to go alone."

"That's not a good idea," Ezra disagrees.

Aria counters, "It's the only way."

The girls continue to bicker with Caleb and Ezra, who disagree with all of their ideas and Toby pulls Spencer aside. "This is a terrible idea and you know it."

"I know," Spencer pleads with him to understand. "But we tried your way and that didn't work either."

"I wouldn't exactly say that it was my way," Toby says. "You wouldn't let me call Tanner, remember?"

"For this reason," Spencer replies. "Every time we get other people involved, someone gets hurt."

"I'm not convinced going alone won't get someone hurt, Spencer," Toby sighs. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"It's okay," Spencer says. "It'll be okay. That's what you always tell me, right?"

He hesitates. "I don't know… Something doesn't feel right."

"Spencer!" Aria beckons, nodding towards the exit.

She nods towards her friend and turns back to Toby. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, come find me."

She pulls his mouth to hers one last time and feels him kiss back as though their lives depend on it. Her eyes lock with his when they break apart. "Ten minutes."

"Spencer!"

"Five," Toby negotiates and then she's gone.


She needs to listen to Toby more often. That's the one thing that's running through her brain in the aftermath. They're somewhere deep in the woods and there are trees and branches and twigs snapping on the ground and leaves getting caught in their hair. Toby was right. Toby's always right, lately. She needs to listen to him more often. It's like a motto, it's like her new mantra, and she just keeps repeating it over and over and over in her head. I'll listen to you. I'll do what you want me to. I'll listen. I promise. If she makes it out of these woods tonight with somewhat of a semblance of her sanity, she's going to listen to him. That's what she's telling herself. That's what she's focusing on. Because she can't bear to focus on anything else.

Alison is still on the ground. She's crawling ever so slowly over to Mona, terror and shock in her eyes, and she reaches out blindly, grips the cold girl's shoulder. She begins to shake her, jar her, force her awake. Hanna's scream crying, her chest heaving, the white tulle of her dress caked with dirt and mud. Aria's mouth is wide open, as if she'd frozen mid-scream and Emily's clutching Hanna to her chest, trying to calm her with shaking hands. I'll listen to Toby more, Spencer repeats one more time and then she, too, drops to the ground and yanks on Alison's arm, pulling her away. The blonde refuses to give up on Mona, and there's so much irony and no time to realize it, so Spencer grabs her by the sleeves of her golden dress and forces her to look her in the eye. There's blood on Alison's hands and guilt in her eyes and for once, when Spencer looks at her, she doesn't see the manipulative teenager Alison's become. She sees a sad, scared little girl and she doesn't know what to say.

Aria snaps out of it first. She tells them they have to get out of here, they have to get help, they have to find someone. The problem is, they have no idea where they are. Charles or –A or whoever it is had led them on a wild goose chase and they're so far from the school, they're easily in the middle of nowhere. Spencer doesn't remember how they got here, honestly. She doesn't really remember anything. They followed a blind lead, there was a lair and a brilliant bright light, and then there was darkness. There was a hooded figure with a gun and there were screams. Now, there's a body on the mossy ground and five broken girls and a howling, piercing wind that chills them to the bones. But Spencer stands, follows Aria's lead, and together, they find their way out of the woods.

They end up just down the road from Spencer's house and there are about a dozen police cars and an ambulance and news reporters held back by caution tape. Alison's trembling, still dripping with blood that isn't hers, but almost was. Hanna's still scream crying and Emily's in shock, now. Aria and Spencer navigate through the crowd like they're still intact, but it's a flimsy façade, at best. They were crazy to think that their prom wouldn't end in death and in despair. They were crazy to believe this would be the end, that they'd follow Charles' lead into the woods and leave knowing who he is and why he's doing what he's done. Or maybe they are just crazy. Maybe this entire ordeal has done nothing but reserve them permanent spaces in Radley Sanitarium.

Spencer spots Toby at the edge of the crowd, conversing with Tanner and a few others while still in his suit, and she runs towards him, reminiscent of the dollhouse reveal weeks earlier. She throws herself into his arms with reckless abandon, completely ignoring his boss and colleagues, and her breaths are coming in short gasps. He holds her just as tightly and can barely get her name out. "Spencer-"

"I'll listen to you," She needs him to know or maybe she needs to remember. "I'll listen to you. I promise. I promise I'll listen."

"What are you talking about?" He implores gently, ignoring the puzzled looks on his coworkers' faces. "What happened?"

"She's dead," Spencer gasps out. "She's dead. She's dead!"

"Who?" Toby wonders. "Who's dead?"

But she can't say it and he must not need her to, for he looks past her tufts of wild hair at the others who'd managed to escape the thicket of trees and notes that six girls had gone into the woods. Only five came out.

"Spencer," Tanner addresses the trembling girl. "Where is Mona Vanderwaal?"

She pulls away from Toby, only slightly, and shakes her head. "She's still back there… in the woods. She's dead. We saw her… We watched her die."

Toby grimaces and pulls her closer, back where she was, and Tanner purses her lips. "It seems to me like we've been down this road before. With Mona, I mean."

"She's gone," Spencer says. "She's really gone, this time."

Tanner looks skeptical and asks, patronizingly, "Are you sure?"

Spencer looks stricken. "I saw her die."

"Are we sure?" Aria shrieks from beside her, eyes flooding with tears and mascara dripping down her cheeks. "Are we sure? Why don't you go back and check the woods if you don't believe us?"

"He was there," Emily fills in. "Charles. He was there and he had a gun. He aimed for Ali but Mona…"

"She was my friend," Hanna cries. "She was sick. She was manipulative and she was obsessive but she was my friend. And she's dead! She's dead because you weren't there! You're never there! I watched her die! I heard the shot, I saw the blood, I watched her take her last breath and where were you? Where were you? You weren't there!"

"Hanna," Caleb says, holding her back from lunging at the detective, but that's all he has to say. Her anger melts back into grief and she dissolves into tears.

Tanner turns away from the scene, calls for backup, and motions for her men to follow her into the woods. Her eyes drift from Lorenzo to Toby as she says, "Cavanaugh, that means you, too."

Without awaiting a response, she heads towards the trees. Spencer peels herself from her boyfriend's arms and wipes at her eyes. "Go. It's okay. Go."

"She's got more than enough officers with her," Toby shakes his head. "I'm not going to leave you. Not now."

"I'll be okay," She says but her voice betrays her, cracking somewhere in the middle.

"No," He insists. "She suspended me, didn't she? She can't decide to lift that just because of what happened. That's not how it works."

"But-"

"But nothing," Toby tells her. "I'm not choosing, remember? I'm not choosing between this job and you."

She remembers his words from months earlier and nods slowly. "You already have."

Burying her face into his chest, she feels him press a kiss to her crown and his arms curl protectively around her. He's all she needs to get her through; he's all she's ever needed, from day one. And she doesn't know where Charles has gone and she doesn't know what comes next. But as long as she has Toby by her side, she can force herself to go on. She has to.


The woods are roped off with caution tape and she has officers combing for evidence and patrolling the scene. Dark, rustling leaves are caked and soaked through with blood and Mona Vanderwaal's been sent to the morgue for her autopsy. It feels like déjà vu; this is the case that had brought Tanner here in the first place, this whole Alison-Mona mess, only this time, they have a real body to deal with and no real killer. She drops Lorenzo's suspension after fourteen hours, Toby's after ten. She needs all hands on deck here, and while she isn't pleased that they went off book, went rogue, all because of a handful of tips from teenage girls, she's willing to overlook it in the grand scheme of things. They've got bigger things to deal with.

She's got Toby cataloging evidence and Lorenzo putting a search team together to further their investigation. Tanner herself is poring over the details of that night and picking a few officers to rotate around the girls' hospital rooms when the doors to her office burst open. In storms a handful of men and two women in dark uniforms like her own, but theirs read, in bright yellow letters, "FBI." She stares endlessly at them for a solid few minutes before the leader of the pack clears his throat and removes his sunglasses; it makes her smirk. Sunglasses? At night? And here she thought the FBI only wore them in movies. She stands to meet their height, comes around the desk, and offers her hand.

"Detective Linda Tanner," She says. "How may I help you?"

"Are you the one in charge here?" The man at the head of the pack asks and she nods.

"Yes I am." Tanner nods somewhat proudly. "I'm the head of the department. Everything that happens in this building gets run by me first."

The man smiles wryly. "Not for long. Sit down, Detective. You've got some explaining to do."

Tanner frowns and sinks back into her chair. "What's this about?"

"My name is Agent Lawson," The man introduces himself. "We've been keeping a close eye on this case ever since those six girls were retrieved from the search and rescue mission a month earlier. I understand you still have not caught the perpetrator?"

"Not yet," Tanner admits. "We've come close numerous times, but-"

"I'm afraid 'close' doesn't count, Detective," Lawson cuts her off. "My team and I have been doing extensive research on this case and it's gotten extremely out of hand. For instance, the kidnapping of these teenagers was the culmination of two years' worth of cyber stalking, physical harm and numerous counts of attempted murder?"

"Yes," Tanner's lips are pursed. "But-"

"The measures you've taken in keeping these young girls safe and protected are ill-fated and seemingly inadequate," Lawson continues. "A couple of cops outside their dwellings aren't going to keep the perpetrator from striking again, as evident by tonight's circumstances."

"Tonight was a special case," Tanner attempts in defense. "The girls weren't supposed to be at the school prom and-"

"Even still," Lawson says. "Your sorry attempts and scant coverage resulted in the murder of an eighteen-year-old girl. Mona Vanderwaal's blood is on your hands and you should be ashamed of yourself and your force."

"Sir, you have to understand-"

"No, you have to understand," A woman from the back of the group cuts in. "Rosewood's police force is the laughing stock of Pennsylvania. We're ordering a full investigation of each and every one of your officers and those who pass get to stay. Those who fail will result in the revoking of their licenses and the banning of ever working for the force ever again."

"Detective Tanner," Lawson sighs. "We really don't want to have to do this, but you're leaving us no choice. You were told to end this for these girls and you failed in doing so. Now, we have to step in, clean up your mess, and finish what you started."

Tanner's livid. "And just what exactly are you saying?"

"We're saying, Detective, that this case is no longer in your hands," The woman tells her. "The FBI will handle all matters from here on out. Stick to stolen bicycles and parking tickets. They're more your speed."

The agents begin to make a retreat, leaving Tanner, dumbfounded, in the dust. Lawson adds, "You had your chance. You blew it. It's time we handled this our way."

Tanner wonders, "And what am I supposed to tell my team?"

"Tell them," Lawson lowers his sunglasses once more. "The FBI is taking over. They're no longer needed."


"Did any of you sleep last night?"

It's an obvious question and they all know it. Here they are, back in the hospital, their cuts and bruises tended to, but nothing can staunch the wounds in the minds and hearts. The sun's come up on a brand new day, but everything's different and yet still somehow exactly the same. They're curled up, all five of them, on Emily's tiny hospital bed, and they're not sure how they're going to move on from this, but they have no choice but to try. Hanna's long since stopped scream crying, but she's got a hollowed, empty look in her eyes and Alison's definitely still in shock, for she's never been this quiet. In an effort to spark some sort of conversation amongst them, Aria's asked the silly question, even though she already knows the answer.

"Of course not," Spencer answers anyway. "Every time I closed my eyes…"

"I kept hearing her scream," Emily fills in. "I kept seeing the gun and the blood and her eyes… They were so wide. They were glowing."

"It was meant for me," Alison says and the girls eyes snap to her, because it's the first thing she's said since the night before. "That bullet was meant for me. He aimed at me and…"

Hanna deadpans, "Mona got in the way."

"She told me…" Alison states. "She told me that she wanted to help. That she owed me more than a car ride."

"Wait," Emily shakes her head. "Are you saying that she got in the way on purpose?"

"You think Mona took that bullet for you?" Aria asks gently.

"Well, don't you?" Alison asks. "It makes sense."

"No, it doesn't, not really," Spencer disagrees and when the others shoot her a look, she backs it up. "I'm serious. There's a difference between owing someone your life and literally owing someone your life. One's an expression and the other… Look, I'm not saying Charles is a bad shot. But we were all huddled around you. That bullet could've hit any of us."

"Well, it didn't. It hit Mona," Hanna says. "And whether she did it on purpose or Charles took her as collateral damage, that doesn't change the fact that she's gone."

They have to give her that one. After a long silence, Emily asks, "Now what?"

"I don't know," Aria shrugs. "We can't keep doing this. We can't keep agreeing to meet him in secret."

"If we don't, he won't show," Alison points out. "But if we do, someone always ends up dead."

"I'm just so tired of this," Spencer frowns. "The lying, the running, the secrecy…"

"Yeah, but what else are we supposed to do?" Hanna points out. "I mean, people know the truth now; everyone knows about Charles and it's like it's getting worse."

"If we can't lie," Aria says. "And we can't tell the truth, what are we supposed to do?"

"Be silent," Alison says ruefully.

"Yeah," Spencer sighs. "He's trying to shut us up. For good."

There's a knock on the door and Pam Fields enters, a warm smile on her face despite the horrors she knows her daughter and her friends have endured. It's only when she's stepped a little closer that the girls notice the despair on her face. Emily asks, "Mom, what's wrong?"

"There's an FBI agent waiting down the hall," Pam tells them. "He wants to speak with you. All of you."

They stand and follow her warily down the hall, where she pushes open a door and reveals a handful of agents in suits and the rest of their parental units. A tall, burly man in the middle nods and says, "Girls. Welcome. We've been waiting for you."

Spencer turns towards her mother, suspicious. "What's this about?"

Veronica's eyes are red-rimmed and Spencer's immediately on edge. "Honey, this is Agent Lawson of the FBI. He has… He wants to talk to you girls."

"You must be Spencer," Lawson nods curtly. "Pleasure."

"Yeah," She says. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, it's come to the attention of the FBI that this stalker of yours, this killer by the alleged name of Charles DiLaurentis has been pursuing you girls for almost two years now."

"Over," Alison chimes in, crossing her arms over her chest. "Over two years."

"I see," Lawson replies. "We've reviewed all instances in this case and have deemed it no longer necessary for the Rosewood Police Department to have any involvement at all."

"What?" Aria exclaims. "You're taking away our protection?"

"Aria, you've misunderstood," Ella soothes her daughter, her own voice wavering.

"Yes," A woman in the back of the group agrees. "What he means is the bumbling, doddering fools on your local police department will no longer be at the forefront of this case. Frankly, we should have intervened months ago."

"So this case is going to the FBI?" Hanna wonders and Lawson nods.

"Precisely," He agrees. "However, due to the nature of the case and how dangerous we feel your stalker is, we've also decided to, shall we say, up the ante on our protection of you girls as well."

Alison scoffs. "Glad somebody has."

"While we search for and retrieve this perpetrator, we find it incumbent that the five of you girls leave Rosewood behind," Lawson explains. "Henceforth, we are hereby instating the five of you, and only the five of you, into the Witness Protection Program, effective immediately."

At first, there's silence. Then, utter outrage.

"You can't be serious!" Emily exclaims.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me!" Hanna shrieks.

"Mom!" Spencer shouts. "You can't let them do this!"

"Just the five of us?" Aria argues. "Alone?"

"We haven't even graduated high school yet," Alison spits out. "And we're supposed to just assume new identities and move on with our lives?"

"Seeing as you're all eighteen, in the eyes of the law, you're all adults," Lawson explains. "I understand your frustration, but unfortunately, since you are legal adults, you will not be allowed to take family members with you."

"Mom," Spencer pleads again. "Please, please, do something!"

"Honey," Veronica croons. "I can't. It's the FBI, Spencer. They've got final say, here."

"And honestly," Peter sighs. "We think it's a good idea."

"You what?" Spencer draws back as though she's been slapped and Veronica frowns.

"Spencer, I don't want you going anywhere," She counters. "But it's become pretty clear that we can't protect you. They can."

"Mom, please don't make me go," Hanna pleads, turning to Ashley with wet eyes. "I can't do this alone. Please!"

Ashley's got a look of utter torment in her eyes. "Hanna, there is nothing I want more than for you to be with me. Except… Except for you to be safe. And I know this is going to be difficult but you have to think about what's best for you."

"Think of it as going away for camp, or for college," Pam offers and Emily sneers angrily.

"Except I can't come home. Ever," Emily growls. "I can't call, I can't write… I have to pretend I don't even know you."

"It's not forever," Ella points out and Byron nods encouragingly. "It's just until this psychopath is found and captured."

"Yeah, but in the meantime?" Aria argues. "I have to go on like nothing is wrong? And how am I supposed to do that? Without you guys? Without my friends?"

In the angry, despaired silence that follows, Lawson clears his throat and says, "I'm terribly sorry that it has to come to this. Our hope is that it takes a year or less to find and capture this supposed Charles DiLaurentis and after that time, you can reassume your natural identities."

Spencer scoffs. "As if it's that simple."

"You'll have 48 hours to complete anything needing your completion and say goodbye to the ones you love," Lawson dictates. "At the end of those 48 hours, you'll report to the local police department and we'll go from there. If you do not report to us, we will come for you. Please, make it easy on us and don't try to run. We'll find you."

He collects his things, bids the girls adieu, and leads his team out of the room. Each set of parents attempts conversation with their daughter and all of them fail. After all, there's not much else to say.

Spencer returns from the hospital feeling numb. Every time she's down, she thinks she's hit rock bottom. Then, a door opens, the bottom disappears, and she falls down the rabbit hole once more.

This time, her moment comes when she receives a text from Toby, asking to meet her for lunch, and her heart swells and clenches and nearly arrests. 48 hours. She has 48 hours before she has to say goodbye to him…

Forever.