I awake with a start to the sound of squeaking shoes out in the hallway. I sit up from my perch against the dresser and stretch out my stiff neck. The room has grown dark since I've been asleep and long, black shadows fall across the linoleum floor, cutting shapes of ragged monsters, the kind of thing that used to terrify Jude when he was younger.

Standing up is more difficult than I had anticipated. My body is sore from laying in such an awkward position on the hard floor for so long, and my ribs still ache. My head is pounding from my lapse of crying I did earlier and my stomach growls, demanding food.

What I would give to inhale the smell of Lena's cooking from the Foster's kitchen. I hate myself for not appreciating the little things more, because now that they're gone, I miss them more than anything.

Shaking all thoughts of the Foster's aside, I walk over to the small, grated window in the far corner of the room and pull the curtains over. Its pitch black outside, and it suddenly dawns on me that I've missed dinner. Why didn't anyone come and find me? I've never been left alone for this long throughout my entire stay, surely someone had to have checked up on me at some point.

I'm glad whoever it was let me sleep; I wasn't in a good state of mind earlier. The prospect of not knowing whether I'd get to see Jude frightened me, and tore me apart more than I had prepared for. If I want to survive here, just like when I had spent my time in juvie, I need to toughen up.

I glance over to the two neatly made beds in the room. Only one has been slept in; I'm not allowed to be placed in a communal room until the therapist revokes the 'high risk' label from my case. But I don't mind, really. I prefer being alone than having to share with one of the girls who quite obviously think I'm crazy.

The bed tempts me, almost to the point where I'm about to give in and fall back asleep again, but before I can even process my own thoughts, I see a figure standing by the doorway in my peripheral vision.

"Callie."

It's Dr Ashford. I can tell straight away by the soft tone of voice she uses to say my name.

I look up, meeting the therapist's brown eyes. She looks tired, like she didn't get enough sleep last night. My mind wanders, imagining her sitting at home, stressing over unresolved cases – people like me – while trying to balance a drooling toddler on her hip and negotiate with a seven year old gap-toothed kid begging for candy.

She takes a step into the room, but stops when she notices my body stiffen. I've only had one session with her since I came here, and she had done most of the talking. She seems nice enough, but I'm not sure if I can trust her. I've been off my game lately, my guard has been down for way too long and I can't risk creating more mess by trusting the wrong people.

Just like you did with Stef and Lena.

"Callie, can we talk? Is it okay if I come in?"

I void my face of all emotion and tilt my head slightly to the side, letting her know that it's okay for her to enter. I have to play by the rules, it's my quickest way out of here.

Dr Ashford takes a seat on the edge of the farthest bed, her back straight and tall, just like Lena always tells Jude to do. "You don't want to end up like Mr King, the American History teacher now, do you?" I smile inwardly, recalling Jude's laugh at Lena's joke.

"I heard you were late to group today," The doctor says, bringing me back to present. I try to grasp her mood, but her voice is even; professional. Something tells me she isn't just here for a friendly chat.

I fumble with the edge of my shirt awkwardly, not sure how to respond, and hope that she will do the talking for both of us.

I can feel her stare on me as she continues. "And Sandy told me about what happened at the end, when you mentioned visiting day."

I look up then, confused as to what she's trying to say. Has she contacted Stef and Lena? Are they going to bring Jude to see me? Maybe they could bring Mariana and Jesus, too! Maybe even Brandon could come, and we could hang out like before.

But the look on her face wipes away my sudden inner burst of excitement, and I wait for her to say the words I'd been anticipating from the start.

"Callie, from what I've observed and from discussing with the other attendants here at Haven Falls, we're not sure you're ready for visitors yet; mentally or emotionally."

My heart stops. "No. You don't understand, I have to see Jude. I have to talk to my brother!" My voice wavers and I curse myself for lowering my guard. I won't cry – I won't.

If the therapist is shocked my sudden voice, then she doesn't show it. She'd be a tough competition for me to be up against for keeping a straight face, and I've had almost a decade of practice.

"Callie, I do understand you, more so than you think. It's really in your best interest that we postpone your visiting day. I think it would knock us a step back in your progress–"

"What progress?!" I cry, louder than I had intended. I don't care, though. She already think's I'm a freak, why not confirm her predictions? "I haven't done anything here but eat, sleep and be watched like a hawk! What good is this doing me? How is this making me better when I'd feel far more comfortable in my own home surrounded by my family?"

"Callie, you need to calm down before you do something you regret. You're not in control right now, you're upset, and frustrated, but you–"

"Of course I'm upset! This is so unfair, I haven't done anything wrong!" The tears flow freely down my flushed cheeks, and breathing becomes difficult through my disjointed sobs. "You can't do this! I want to talk to Stef and Lena; I want my moms!"

She looks at me, and for the first time really sees me. Her hard stare finally softening as she takes in my hysterical stance and tear stained face.

"I need to see them," I choke, pressing my hands firmly to my eyes to stop the tears from falling. "Please."

The therapist stays silent, as if she's making a mental note about our encounter in her mind to add to my file later. The file that is filled with half-truths about my life, and doesn't do me half the justice it should. I hate that file; I always have. It has disadvantaged me in every foster home I've ever been in, yet fails to mention the times those homes disadvantaged me. Disadvantaged us.

Jude.

My mind flashes back to the last time I saw him before I was taken here. It was the night of the trial. Liam had won, and I looked like a silly little girl who had been in too far over my head. It had taken all my confidence to go through with the trial in the first place, but losing had been what truly defeated me.

I hated that people didn't see what a monster he was; to them, Liam was still Mr Innocent – the man who could do no wrong.

But he had. If I hadn't already been broken before Jude and I moved into the Olmsted's, I certainly was after that first night he came into my bedroom.

His smile was comforting at first to my sleepy mind, and I was excited to see the man who had taken time to know me like no one else had done ever before. I used to love the way he made me feel, the way he would treat me like I was his little secret, holding my hand when his parents couldn't see and sneaking candy bars into my schoolbag, just so I'd be reminded of him.

But as his hands began roaming to places no fifteen year old girl should be touched, my heartbeat increased and I was enveloped in fear.

"Liam, I don't want to," I'd said shakily, hoping he would remove his hands from inside my shirt and we'd go back to our usual banter-filled relationship that almost resembled real siblings.

But Liam's grip on my breasts only increased, and his voice tightened in frustration. "Oh, come on Callie. You know you want this."

I didn't. I didn't want this at all. I was fifteen, and definitely not ready to have sex with anyone, never mind a twenty year old man.

"Please. Don't do this!"

But my pleads went unheard as Liam undid the belt on his jeans and licked his lips hungrily. My struggling was useless under his strong grip on my shoulder, his touch hard enough to leave raw bruises and sharp slices where his fingernails dug into my skin.

"Shut up, you little bitch," he spat, gripping my hair tightly as he prodded his way around my body. "You wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you? Then you and Jude would be sent away, and no one will ever treat you as well as I do, especially after they know what kind of girl you are."

I felt my limbs trembling throughout the ordeal, his hands gripping me tighter whenever I tried to pull away. Of course, it was no use. So I closed my tearful eyes and let him get on with it, allowing him to control me because I simply had no energy to fight.

Just like when I told Mrs Olmsted what he'd done to me, and they proceeded to throw Jude and I out, believing their monster of a son over me. Who would blame them, though? Nobody ever believes the trashy foster kid.

And when he'd come back – just when I was getting off to a fresh start at Anchor Beach – I knew that I would never be able to escape his grasp; physically and mentally.

I look up, my body shaking like a crazy person as I take in my surroundings. Dr Ashford isn't perched on the bed anymore, she's standing by the door, looking down the hall frantically.

God knows how long I've been standing there wrapped up in my thoughts, but I bet it was long enough for her to think I was having a breakdown.

I glance around the room and catch sight of myself in the mirror. My face is red and puffy from crying, my eyes bloodshot and my hair standing up in all directions. I don't remember last time I brushed it. But what's the point? I'm not allowed to see anyone, anyway. I'll rot in here before they let me see Jude, so I don't see any reason to be concerned about what I look like.

But it matters to the others.

They'll think you're crazy. They'll think you escaped from the psych ward.

Maybe that's where I should be, where I'm not a danger to anyone.

I look down at the bandages around my wrists, hiding the wounds that almost bled me to death.

Maybe you should be in the morgue. It would be better for everyone. Stef and Lena could adopt Jude; he'd get over it, all you ever did was ruin everything for him, anyway. If they did end up missing you, they could always get a dog or something. Dr Ashford would be able to go home to her whining kids instead of having to deal with your episodes, you never know, it might even save her marriage. People would be better off without you.

No.

Jude needs me. I can't leave him.

"Callie."

I snap my head around. Dr Ashford is back, this time with a couple of men with stethoscopes. One of them is carrying a syringe. My eyes widen in alarm.

"Do you need something to help you calm down?" She asks, gesturing to one of the men.

I back up, not stopping until my back hits the wall. I won't let them do this to me again. I won't let them control me with that mind-fucking medication.

I shake my head, raising my hands in defeat. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

The three adults look at me sceptically before glancing at each other. I hold my breath, praying that they'll walk out the room without sedating me.

Dr Ashford nods, and the two men leave the room. My tense body relaxes, never having been more thankful to see people walk away from me.

She turns to me and walks over to the bed, pulling back the covers. "I think you should go to sleep now, Callie. It's been a long day."

I comply, not bothering to mention that I'd missed dinner, but after this visit from the doctor, my apatite has subsided anyway.

I wrap my arms around my torso, something I used to always do whenever I needed a hug and Jude was sleeping, and fold myself into the hard mattress. I try my hardest to stifle a wince as I shuffle the wrong way on my cracked ribs, but apparently I wasn't quiet enough.

I see Dr Ashford's face contort into a look of concern and almost sadness. "I'll get you something for the pain," she says, before leaving the room.

What she doesn't know is that the real pain isn't in my ribs, it's in my soul. And I'm pretty sure there aren't any pills to fix that.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Next chapter you'll get to see a little bit about how Stef and Lena feel about the whole ordeal, and I'm really excited for you guys to read it.

Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for the response to chapter one. I was not expecting so many people to follow/favourite and review in such a short space of time. It means a lot to me.

Again, I'd love if you reviewed to let me know what you think of the story so far, and also to leave any suggestions as to what you want to see in upcoming chapters.

-K. xox