A/N:

Sorry it took so long, this past week has been BUSY! And apparently this now takes the title as the longest chapter to date, so.

SUICIDAL WARNING! Same old, Brooklynn and Yaz dealing with their struggles.

Disclaimer: I don't speak Spanish, I just used Google Translate, so apologises if it's incorrect. The English translation's are in bold and paraentheses next to the Spanish.

Enjoy!

"Did we win?" Shelby asks, holding Miriam's hand as the Gutierrez family walks out of the courtroom.

"No," her mother shakes her head, pushing Sammy in the wheelchair. "That was the preliminary hearin'."

"The what?" Shelby tilts her head.

"It was to see if there was enough evidence to go to a real trial," Justin, Holly's fiance, explains kindly.

"So is there?" Shelby asks.

"There was," Mr. Gutierrez nods. "We're goin' to a real trial soon."

"Sooo, we did win!" Shelby declares.

Her family chuckles.

"Can we go home now?" Rio asks. "I'm tired."

"You seemed to be fallin' asleep back there," Sandra says, poking Rio in the side.

"No, I couldn't look!" Rio exclaims, clutching her heart. "It was scary! Hearin' the things that happened and the evidence and all. Bein' on Isla Nublar is terrifin' as all git out!"

"Yeah," Sammy mumbles, looking at her hands as her mother pushes her.

"You mean 'Yee?'" Miriam says, trying to put a smile on her sister's face.

Sammy takes a second. "Haw," she mumbles sadly.

"Why don't we go out to eat to celebrate?" Mr. Gutierrez suggests.

"Proverbs 24:17 through 18," Sandra says proudly. "Do not gloat when your enemy falls, or the Lord will see it and turn his anger around on you."

"Very good, Sandy," Sammy's father nods. "I meant why don't we celebrate having Sammy back here safe and sound?"

"That I can celebrate," Sandra smiles.

"Yeah! Let's celebrate Sammy comin' back!" Holly whoops.

"Yay," Sammy says half-heartedly, holding up her fist.

"You sure, sweetie?" her mother asks.

"I'm fine, Mama," Sammy nods, forcing a smile. "We can celebrate."

"This is certainly a wonderful occasion to celebrate," her Abuela butts in. "But if you want to have peace and quiet, we can head home."

"No, let's go," Sammy shakes her head, dreading the idea of having 'peace and quiet' without her friends. Heck, she didn't even really want peace and quiet with them. That would mean being left to her flashbacks, which had started since the preliminary hearing… Having to relive everything and tell the court what had happened was very difficult. It didn't help that Mitch and Tiff were sitting in the front of the audience, watching.

There had been no remorse in their eyes. Sure, the two had looked "sympathetic" when she started crying and shaking, but it was fake. They wanted to keep up their innocent appearances to win the case. Although, it appeared that not even their lawyers believed their story. Mitch had shown a bit of guilt in his eyes whenever she had looked at him. It was most likely the guilt of being caught, though. Tiff gave her looks of sympathy and compassion whenever Sammy looked at her. But when Tiff didn't know Sammy was looking, there was anger. Anger of being caught and put on trial. Anger at Sammy for living to tell the tale. There was no remorse. She didn't care at all what happened to Sammy. She was a selfish woman who cared only for herself and her profit. She was a horrid person who drowned Sammy to get information…

Something grips the back of her head tightly, causing pain. Sammy's hands fly to her head and she scrambles to pull it off. But there was nothing there. Sammy gasps for air and feels as if her lungs were filled with water. She starts to suffocate and panic.

Sammy comes back to reality and the sensations of drowning and someone gripping her hair fade. She opens her eyes to find her entire family looking at her. "Are you okay?" Shelby asks in concern, her big, brown eyes wide with fright.

"Yeah," Sammy croaks out.

"Was that a flashback?" Sandra asks, putting her hand on Sammy's shoulder.

"Get off me," Sammy hisses, pushing her sister's hand away. The touch of human contact felt uncomfortable at the moment.

Her sisters back away, startled and confused by this outburst.

"Maybe we shouldn't go out to celebrate," Mrs. Gutierrez says, moving to touch her daughter comfortingly before stopping herself. "Maybe we should head home and let you rest."

"No, no," Sammy shakes her head. "Let's go out." "I don't want it to be quiet," she thinks.

"Are you sure?" her father asks.

"Sí, Papa," Sammy nods.

"Are you really sure?" Holly asks. "Seems like you might just need to have quiet, calm time to recover from reliving everything."

"I'm fine," Sammy insists, terrified of the idea of being home, even with her family around. "Why am I so scared of being alone?" she wonders.

"¿De verdad? (Really?)" her Abuela asks.

"Sí," Sammy nods, wanting to go out in public. "Vamos."

Her sentence was said lacklusterly, but her family hesitantly obliges. They pile into their cars and drive off. "Where are we going?" Shelby asks, a bit quieter after Sammy's flashback.

"That's a good question," her mother says, looking back behind her. Mr. Gutierrez was driving their minivan. Sammy and Rio sat in the two middle seats, while Miriam and Sandra took up the back bench. Shelby was situated in between the two in the back. Holly and their Abuela had ridden with Justin in his car.

"Where should we go?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, winking at his wife with a smirk.

"Yeah, where should we go?" Miriam asks, trying to hide her smile.

"Let's git us some good ol' barbeque!" Shelby exclaims, not picking up on her family's little secret.

"Naw," Mrs. Gutierrez shakes her head. "Why don't we go get some pizza?"

She looks at Sammy in the rear view mirror, and to her disappointment, Sammy isn't paying attention. The girl was staring out the window sadly. "Where are the others?" Sammy asks herself, wishing she was with them. "Did they get home safe? Is Brooklynn doing okay? Is she handling being separated from the rest of us well? Is she eating enough and taking care of herself? Is Darius handling the stress well? Is he stuck in a state of panic? How's Kenji? Has he had flashbacks or panic attacks? Is Yaz doing okay? She didn't seem to be doing too well!"

"Sammy?" her mother asks, breaking her of her thoughts.

"Yeah?" Sammy asks.

"Does pizza sound good?" her mother asks.

"Yeah," Sammy nods. "Sounds good…" Pizza reminds her of Yasmina, and again, her thoughts drift back to her friends. "I'm pretty sure she's depressed… Oh, God, I hope Yaz is doing okay. And Brooklynn."

The Gutierrez's pull into the parking lot. "Welp, let's go!" Mr. Gutierrez says as he pulls the wheelchair out of the back.

Sammy accepts her mothers help into the wheelchair and Miriam takes a turn pushing her into the building. "Gianfortoni Pizza," Sammy reads the name with a small smile. It was a local business that had opened up about two years prior. It was owned by a man named Leo Gianfortoni and his wife, Maria. It was a family business, and they were expanding it. Sammy knew that they had moved to Texas from another country, but she couldn't remember which…

The Gutierrez's walk inside. It was a busy night. Even so, the owner was standing in the front talking to some customers. "Howdy, Leo," Mr. Gutierrez says, giving him a hearty handshake.

"Hey, Austin," Leo smiles. The man had brown hair and brown eyes with a tan complexion. He was an organized, serious man, with a goofy streak.

"How's business?" Sammy's father asks as her mother heads to the front to order. Miriam pushes Sammy as Mr. Gianfortoni speaks.

"It's been pretty good," he says. "My sister's moved down here. Partly to start a new life," he lowers his voice, "and partly to keep an eye on the kids. She can't let go of the past. And Dave goes wherever she goes."

It takes a second for Sammy to process what she heard and turn around. "Wait," she mumbles.

A familiar voice greets her at the front. "Hey, kiddo!"

Sammy whips her head around to see Dave working the cash register. She tilts her head back and frowns at him. "Are you stalkin' me?"

Dave laughs. "Nah, decided to start a new life in a new state. You just happened to be here!"

Sammy giggles. "So that's Roxie's older brother?"

"Yep!" Dave nods. "Roxie's working in the back on the pizzas. When things aren't as busy, maybe she can say hi."

Sammy's family orders food, then sits down. Sammy's younger sisters keep eyeing her like she had two heads and would explode at any second. "I'm fine, y'all," Sammy insists.

"You don't normally start choking on nothing," Sandra mumbles.

Trying to be funny, Sammy says, "I'm pretty sure I've choked on nothing before."

"We've all choked on nothing before," Holly chuckles.

"What's a flashback?" Shelby asks.

"It's where you start reliving something bad that happened to you," Sammy explains. "It's like going back to when it happened in your mind."

"Why don't you just not think about it?" Shelby suggests simply.

"Shell, that's not how it works," Rio chastises as Sammy winces.

The mention of flashbacks starts to give Sammy anxiety. She tries to shut it out, focus on the food that had just arrived, but that doesn't stop her from remembering. Well, for a second. "Oh my gosh, I forgot what real food tasted like," Sammy sighs, savoring the food. The savory crust and cheese blended together with the pepperoni and bacon and mushrooms… she normally hated mushrooms, but after living on Isla Nublar, they were heaven.

"Pretty good, huh?" her mother chuckles.

"Don't talk to me," Sammy says, closing her eyes. "Just let me enjoy this."

There is silence for a minute before her family starts laughing. Sammy opens her eyes. "Sorry, but you look like you're in Heaven," Holly laughs.

"I forgot what real food tastes like," Sammy sighs. "This is so much better than the random berries and random food we found in the condos. Ohh, this is amazing."

The Gutierrez's finish their dinner. It was near closing time, and they were trying to help clean up somewhat so as not to cause too much mess for the cashiers who cleaned up at night. Shelby and Sandra went another step by trying to sweep. They ended up causing more of a mess for Dave and the other worker, Joshua. The two didn't mind too much, as it was cute to chase them around, trying to get the brooms back.

Sammy's parents talk with Roxie's older brother. "We just finished the preliminary trial and thought we'd stop by here," Mr. Gutierrez explains.

"How did it go?" Leo asks.

"Well, we're going to an official trial in March," Mr. Gutierrez explains. "We seem to have enough evidence to win the case, but Mantah Corp just might try to buy out the judges and juries."

"Let's hope they don't succeed," Leo nods.

Sammy is filled with shame, guilt, and repentance. "I'm sorry I went to work for Mantah Corp," she apologizes for the umpteenth time.

"Don't worry about it, toots," her father smiles at her. "We've forgiven ya, let's put it behind us."

The grown ups begin to talk again.

"It's not that easy to forget, is it?" Roxie's gentle voice says behind Sammy. "A decision that put lives in danger or turmoil."

"No," Sammy murmurs. "It's not that easy. I wish I could go back and do it over. Wish I could've said no…"

"I get the feeling," Roxie nods, helping Sammy turn her wheelchair around. "I wish I could go back and stay with you guys at the camp."

"I'm not mad at ya," Sammy assures her. "None of us are."

Roxie chuckles slightly. "It doesn't matter how much people say that. Doesn't matter how much I apologize or try to make amends. What's done is done, and I can't go back and do it over. I'm left knowing that my stupid decision got you six stranded on Isla Nublar for two months. Almost got you killed…"

Sammy watches her sisters play, knowing she couldn't say anything. While she did forgive Roxie and never had anything against her to begin with, she wasn't wrong… Sammy wouldn't be able to lie and say that it wasn't Roxie's fault… Nor could she say it was all Roxie's fault.

"Well, even if you had stayed with us, we still would've been in trouble," Sammy murmurs.

"True, but at least you would've had someone to look after you guys," Roxie says, smiling sadly.

"Y'all," Sammy corrects with a small smile. "If yer living in Texas, you say y'all."

Roxie laughs. "Okay. But I have to hand it to you, y'all handled yourselves pretty well out there. Surviving everything you did."

"Yeah, it's by the grace of God we stayed intact long enough to make it," Sammy chuckles. She is silent for a minute. "How do you… how do you deal with the guilt of your decision?" She looks up at Roxie. "How do you cope with it and make amends?"

"There's not much either of us can do to make amends," Roxie sighs. "As for how to cope with it, well… I'm not sure myself. The best I can do right now is try to remind myself that I'm not completely at fault. It sounds selfish and horrible to say, but I'm not responsible for the Indominus rex breaking out, or even the creation of it. Just abandoning you kids. It's a horrible decision, but… I can't take credit for the entire disaster."

Sammy chuckles.

"Just try to remember that things still could've been bad, even if you made a different decision," Roxie says, giving the girl a small smile. "Since you were all on the island and saw many things, Mantah Corp might have still tried the same thing… even if no one was working for them. All of you saw them doing illegal things. I'm sure they would've threatened you kids anyway."

"Yeah," Sammy nods. "I guess I just need to learn to forgive myself."

"It's hard to do," Roxie nods. "But it needs to be done."

"Thank you," Sammy says, hugging Roxie. "I'm glad ya moved to Texas."

"Really?" Roxie asks softly, almost in disbelief. "I'm honored."

"I wanna see you and Dave's kids," Sammy grins jokingly.

"Oh, that's why!" Roxie cackles.

"Darius, breathe," Brandon tells his younger brother. "It's okay."

Darius wanted to scream at him. He sucks in a breath, trying to stop hyperventilating. But he couldn't get over his anxiety. "They're out there, on their own! What if something happens to them?! What if they get killed?! I promised them that I would never leave! I promised that I would protect them! How can I protect them if I'm not there for them?!"

"Darius, what's wrong?" Brandon asks, trying to stay calm.

Darius couldn't control it. "What do you think is wrong?!" he shouts.

"Talking about what's going on in your head is one way to help anxiety," Brandon explains. "At least, that's what I've read. Or writing it out."

Darius closes his eyes and tries to calm down. "They're gone. They're on their own. What if they're in danger?!"

"It's okay, Darius," his mother says coming into his room. "They're safe."

Darius grits his teeth, and clutches his chest, gasping in pain. His hands are trembling as he is overcome with an overwhelming sense of panic. He couldn't catch his breath, his heart was racing; were his friends okay?!

Brandon and Mrs. Bowman struggle to try to help him through his panic attack. They had no experience with it, and had no idea what to do. It didn't help that Darius was relatively new to dealing with it. They resorted to calling the Pincus's and having Ben talk to Darius, since he had ample experience with panic and anxiety attacks.

"Okay, Darius, focus on breathing," Ben says through the phone, calmly. "Brandon or Miss Grace, help me with this."

"I'll do it," Brandon says quickly.

"Okay, take his hand and put it on your chest," Ben instructs. "Then take deep breaths. Darius, I need you to focus on your brother's breathing and mimic his."

Slowly, through focusing and mimicking his brother, Darius's breaths are more even and deep.

"Okay," Ben says. "Count to four while breathing, hold for a second, then breathe out for four seconds. Brandon, I need you to help him count."

Darius counts while Brandon and Ben count with him. By the time they had counted several times, Darius had calmed down significantly. "Thanks Ben," Darius sighs shakily.

"You're welcome," Ben says through the phone. Darius could practically hear him smile. "Find a breathing technique that can help keep you calm during panic or anxiety spells. And you can share your plan to deal with it with your family and friends so that they can assist you."

Darius nods. "Okay."

"It might be handy to have benzodiazepine on hand," Ben suggests. "It's good for reducing anxiety. Also lavender oil is good for reducing anxiety."

"That's something we can find," Mrs. Bowman nods.

"Okay, so my Dad apparently needs help fixing the sink and I kind of need to go," Ben says.

Darius's breath hitches.

"Don't worry, Darius, I'll be fine," Ben assures him. "It's okay."

Darius closes his eyes tightly and tries to breathe steadily as Ben ends the phone call.

"It's okay, they're safe," Brandon assures his younger brother.

"The others are not in trouble," Darius's mother says, kissing his forehead.

Darius merely groans in stress and disbelief. Brandon leans over and hugs Darius. His younger brother immediately wraps his arms around Brandon's back, hugging him tightly to him. Darius seemed to calm down a bit, so Brandon stayed there, embracing him.

Mrs. Bowman heads out of the room to continue packing their belongings into boxes. Their next door neighbors had come by to help them pack up and move, since Brandon was taking care of Darius.

The boys stay there, embracing each other tightly for hours. Even though there was no danger, Darius couldn't convince himself otherwise. In his mind, there was danger around every corner, and his friends were constantly one step away from dying. He had no peace about it; he couldn't stop worrying. Hugging his older brother felt comforting and relaxing for Darius. He couldn't hug his friends… He couldn't protect them… But at least, he could hold his brother… and protect him…

By dinner time, Brandon had to let go. "Sorry, D, but I need to go," Brandon says, pulling back.

"Go where?" Darius asks, beginning to feel anxious again.

"The bathroom," Brandon chuckles. "I'll be right back."

"Oh," Darius chuckles in relief. "You know, a lot of people die on the toilet."

"Whatever," Brandon laughs, rolling his eyes.

"Gosh, I'm starting to sound like pre-camp Ben," Darius facepalms.

He texts all his friends, asking them how they were doing. "Packing up to move to Texas tomorrow!" Kenji answers back almost immediately.

"Eating dinner with my family," Ben answers.

"Hang on, my Dad's talking to me, brb," Kenji says.

"Girls?" Darius asks, his heart beginning to race.

"Sammy has the preliminary hearing for the Gutierrez vs. Mantah Corp case," Ben explains.

"Yaz? Brooklynn? Roll call!" Darius texts, getting more and more anxious.

"I'm fine," Yaz texts.

There was nothing from Brooklynn.

"She's probably busy," Ben reasons. Texting Darius privately, he says, "How are you dealing with all of this?"

"I'm stressed," Darius texts back. "Anxious. Panicking. You name it."

"1 Corithians 7:32, I want you to be free from anxieties," Ben answers. "This is one of the Bible verses I always used."

"Didn't seem to help you that much," Darius retorts with a winky face.

"My faith in God wasn't very strong last year," Ben admits. "Look, I'm just trying to help you out. Anxiety can be difficult to deal with if left unattended."

"I just wish that we could all stay together," Darius texts wistfully.

"We can't always be together, even when we're in Texas," Ben tells him. "You need to find a way to cope with anxiety and be without us."

Darius sighs, knowing Ben was right. "Thx for the advice, Ben."

"You're welcome," Ben texts back.

Darius's mother and neighbors come into his room. "How you doing, Darius?" Mr. Snodgrass says with his notorious booming voice.

"Uhh…" Darius chuckles sheepishly, unsure how to answer the questions.

"We've got a broken femur and hip replacement," his mother explains. "Plus a bruised chest. The sucking wound is pretty much healed up. Just a small gap where it's healing. But he's supposed to stay in bed for another… four weeks."

"Ah, come on, man," Mr. Snodgrass chortles. "Don't leave your Momma high and dry while you're moving!"

Darius laughs with him, but inside, he felt bad. "Am I really leaving Mom with a burden? It's certainly stressful on her to deal with my panic attacks… and it's because of me that we're moving to another state… would Mom and Brandon be better off without me here? Better off without my anxiety and injuries?"

"Don't worry, Darius, you're easing my mind if you stay in bed and rest," his mother smiles, almost reading his mind.

Darius smiles and nods, but on the inside he doubts it.

"It's not going to get better! Just end it right now! Why don't you have the strength to do it?!" the voices shout.

Brooklynn screams out a sob and collapses into a heap in the corner of her room. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" she yells in her head. "Don't think this way, don't think it!"

"I don't want to live this way!" the voices scream. "I can't get better, I'm too far gone! I should just end it now!"

Brooklynn screams in terror, shutting her eyes tightly as tears fall out.

"Brook, what's wrong?!" Milton exclaims, opening the door.

Her parents appear behind him. "It's okay! We're here!" her mother assures her, kneeling down next to her.

Brooklynn buries her face in her arms and pulls her knees up to her chest. "I'm not good enough. I'll never be enough. I'm worthless. Just look at me! I'm cowering on the floor because I'm separated from my friends! I can't live without them! How useful can I be?! I'm just slowing them down! I'm just a burden to them! To my family! Everyone would be better off without me!"

"Brooklynn, honey, speak to us," her mother says, moving an arm around her daughter's shoulder.

"I'm a burden," Brooklynn sobs through her sleeves.

"No, you're not," her brother argues.

"I'm worthless and weak," Brooklynn says. "No one needs me. No one wants me! I'm nothing!"

Brooklynn listens to herself talk. "No, no, no! I'm not! That's not true! Is it?!"

"No, that's not true!" Brooklynn's father argues.

"We want you," Mrs. Monell assures her.

Their voices are drowned out by the depression in her head. "Ending my life would be better for everyone! Do it now!"

Scenarios fly through her mind. Brooklynn tries to block them out, but she can't. Her last resort is screaming out loud in an attempt to drown out the voices in her head.

"Shh! It's okay!" her mother says, wincing at the volume.

The girl gasps for breath as tears slide down her cheeks. "Just make it stop!" she shouts at no one in particular. Could her family help? Her friends who were miles and miles away? Perhaps some savior who would help her know what to do? Anyone!

"Maybe you can call—" her mother starts to suggest when Brooklynn's phone buzzes.

Anxiety and fear grips the girl. Part of her longed to look and see what the notification was for. Was it her friends? Darius? Yaz? On the other hand, what if it was from Youtube? What if it was a good comment? What if it was a bad comment?!

"It's Yasmina," Milton says, checking the phone.

Brooklynn immediately grabs it, barely able to read the text through her tears. "Hey, how are you doing being separated?" Yaz asks.

"Having a panic attack," Brooklynn types, wiping away her tears as her mother wraps her arms around her. "And a depression attack. And a suicidal thoughts attack."

"So you're not doing good," Yaz texts back.

"What do I do?" Brooklynn asks.

"Hang in there," Yaz advises. "Things will get better, but not if you end it. You've got 2 more days before you move to Texas. Just hang on."

Brooklynn closes her eyes, starting to calm down slightly. Her phone buzzes again, and she opens her eyes. It was from Youtube. Unable to resist—it was like a drug for her—she checks it to see what was said. It was a comment on Leah's video gossiping about her. "I always knew that b**** was using you like a leech," it reads.

Tears slip out. She had known that girl. They collaborated a couple times. It hurt to have her turn so quickly. "All my friends will turn eventually. I'm just setting myself up for heartache. It's not worth it to have friends," the old, familiar voice hisses.

"But I can't live without them now!" Brooklynn argues. "At least, not right now with my PTSD and all."

"I'll never be able to escape the pain. I'll always be betrayed and neglected and forgotten."

"Not my friends! They wouldn't do that!"

"I used to say the same thing about my Youtube friends…"

"I can't leave them, I can't kill myself. They want me to go on…"

"Why would they? I'm just a burden to them. I'm a burden to my family! Face it, that's why they left me when I was a kid! I was a burden to Mom, and that's why she focused more on her job! I was a burden on Dad! I'm a pain in the butt to Milton! Mom and Dad aren't happy in their marriage; the only reason they're staying together is because of me and Milton! I'm forcing them to stay unhappy in a marriage they don't like until I'm old enough to move out! I'm just a pain in the butt for everyone!"

"No… they're happy…" Brooklynn thinks weakly as she cries. But she knows better. There had always been the threat of divorce looming over their household. The only reason the two had lasted so long was because they didn't want to deal with the dispute of custody of their children in court. They were waiting until their kids were older and out of their care before they would divorce. At least, that was what Brooklynn felt would happen. Nothing had ever been said. There was just this feeling in the air.

"Brook?" Yaz texts.

Brooklynn slowly drops her phone, sobbing. "I'm sorry," she chokes out.

"Sorry for what?" her father asks. Her family had yet to see her apology spells.

"I'm sorry that I'm making you guys unhappy!" Brooklynn wails, gripping her hair. "I know the only reason you guys aren't divorced is because of me! You're staying together because I'm a broken mess and can't be left alone, I'm sorry…"

"Brooklynn, that's not it at all," her mother assures her.

"So you don't want to divorce?" Brooklynn sobs skeptically.

"...No," her mother lies, faking a smile. "And you're not a burden to us."

"Stop beating yourself up," her father says, moving closer.

"Don't die," Milton says, biting his lip as he hugs her. "I better not find you laying in your bed with a gun or something."

"Well, the Gutierrez's have plenty of ammunition for that," Brooklynn says dryly, chuckling slightly. It wasn't a funny sentence, but it still made her laugh.

"That's not funny," her father tells her. "Don't joke around about this. Suicide is a serious subject."

"Sorry," Brooklynn says, choking out a sob.

Her father sighs. "I'm not mad at you, just… worried."

"My friends would react differently," Brooklynn thinks bitterly, a bit of resentment rising up in her. Why couldn't she have been born with better parents? Why couldn't she have a loving family who cared for her and spent time with her? Instead of parents who were too busy with work and a brother who bullied her?

"Maybe I didn't deserve a better family…" the voice hisses.

Brooklynn grits her teeth and half groans, half sobs in frustration; she was so tired of hearing these self deprecating and depressed thoughts all day and night.

"Can you hand me that tool there?" Mr. Pincus asks, his head underneath the sink. Ben hands him the tool he pointed to. "Nope, not it. Try that one." his father instructs.

Ben hands him several tools that his father "pointed to" before he hit the right on. It didn't help that Ben had forgotten what the tools were called, and his father couldn't see what he was pointing to.

"Thanks, Boof," his father says, ruffling Ben's hair. As a kid, Ben had the fluffiest hair, which earned him the nickname: Boofy Floofy, or Boof for short.

"Where did you come up with that?" Ben asks. "Boofy Floofy sounds like a dog."

"Do you not like it?" his father asks, tightening a bolt.

"No, I do," Ben smiles. "It's original. I like original nicknames. They're better than Sport or Buddy."

His father laughs. "Yeah, pretty much every kid is called that."

"Darius's Dad called him and Brandon D-man and B-man," Ben says. "That's pretty cool. The closest thing to a nickname I've heard from Kenji's Dad is 'Drama Queen.'"

"Is he?" his father chuckles.

"More of a goofy, purposeful drama queen," Ben chuckles. "He's more of a jester than a queen."

"Yeah, Kenji is something," his father chuckles.

Ben sits there in silence. "How are you dealing?" his father asks.

"I'm doing good," Ben nods. "Trying to stay in faith."

"I'm proud of you," Mr. Pincus says. "Placing your faith in God's plan and trying to stay joyful. Not even your other Christian friends are standing on God's word."

"Sammy is trying," Ben murmurs. "But she's got a lot on her mind."

"Still, you're trying," his father says. "I'm proud of you."

Ben smiles.

"I haven't seen you deal with a panic or anxiety attack in a while," his father continues. "Kinda funny that you come back from this without PTSD."

"I do have PTSD…" Ben mumbles. "Most of it is at night, though. I just freeze. Or when I'm alone… I don't know why… actually that's a lie, I do know why I'm afraid when I'm alone."

"Because it meant death to not have a buddy to protect you, right?"

"Yeah… and I spent about a week alone… at least, alone without human contact. I had Bumpy always… until the last day of the island."

"Bumpy's the Ankylosaurus, right?"

Ben frowns, irked. "Yeah."

"Sorry, just making sure," his father assures him.

"We traveled to the lab for a tour on the second day of camp," Ben explains. "One of the Ankylosaurus eggs was hatching prematurely. She ended up falling off the table and I caught her. She was so tiny… just a little armored, squeaky baby… I fell in love with her at that moment."

"She sounds cute," Ben's father grins.

"She was," he nods. "When we were trying to find someone to help us during the incident, we ran into her. She had grown to about the size of a bulldog by then. The others wanted to leave her behind, but… I couldn't. I couldn't abandon her… like we were…"

His father finishes fixing the sink and puts away the tools while he listens.

"She found me after I fell off the monorail," Ben explains. "She was there when I was injured and unable to move. She kept the Compies away, helped pull me to water. She helped me survive out there…"

"You miss Bumpy, don't you?" his father asks.

Ben nods. "Sometimes I feel unsafe without her, since she was always there. I guess that's why I'm not as bothered by being alone as my friends. But without Bumpy… I just feel super stressed and on edge sometimes when I think about her…"

"Maybe we can get a dog or a cat, or something," his father suggests.

"Why?" Ben asks, clueless.

"Some people use animals as emotional support," Mr. Pincus explains. "Maybe having a dog or a cat would be calming for you."

Ben frowns. "I don't need to replace Bumpy."

"It wouldn't be replacing her," his father promises. "But perhaps a pet that would stay with you to give you comfort and support."

Ben crosses his arms, feeling very much against the idea. "No, Bumpy was my pet… my companion… she can't be replaced."

"It wouldn't be a replacement," his father says again. "It would be emotional support."

"So, a replacement for Bumpy," Ben sputters.

His father tries to convince him otherwise, but Ben is set in his ways. "Nothing and no one can replace Bumpy," he thinks grumpily. "No way. She and Princess are my only pets."

"Here's your new home, Roxie!" Habeeba giggles, letting the fluffy puppy loose. The husky starts skidding around the house, excited to check out the new place. She had yet to explore, or even set foot in their North Dakota house.

Mrs. Fadoula pushes Yasmina's wheelchair in through the front door. "Feel good to be home?"

"I guess," Yasmina mumbles. Already, she was missing her friends. She begins to regret saying that she could take it; take being alone. What was she thinking? She couldn't stand the thought of living without them now, but it was too late! Now they were states apart and she was left on her own!

"What do you want to do?" Jabari asks. "Wanna play a game? Maybe go play a game of hockey…"

He trails off as he realizes what he just said, but the damage was done. Yasmina looks down at her hands. She couldn't play hockey. She couldn't wrestle with her siblings for the puck. How could she, with half a leg missing?!

"I'm sorry," Jabari mumbles, guiltily.

"It's fine," Yasmina grumbles.

"We can set you up with someone to fit a prosthetic leg," her step-father suggests. "Then you can get right back to track and hockey and everything else in no time!"

"I'm fine," Yasmina hangs her head, not wanting her family to see her tears. "I can't get back on my feet. I'm bound to a wheelchair forever," a voice hisses. And she believed it.

"There's Olympic runners who are double amputees!" Ghaleb informs her with a smile. "A double amputee performed on Dancing With The Stars. This won't hold you back."

"You didn't let a torn ACL and several—" her mother sighs in frustration, "—several broken legs stop you from running. Even when it should've."

"Maybe because it wasn't completely gone!" Yasmina snaps angrily. "Maybe because all I had to do was let it heal! This—" she points to her left leg, "—won't heal! This is here forever and it's not coming back! There's nothing I can do to replace it! There's nothing I can do to fix it! I will never be completely normal ever again! I will always have this ugly reminder of that stupid island! I'll never be able to forget being tumbled and ripped apart by that stupid Spino! I…"

"I'll never be able to forget how I failed," the voice hisses. "I'll never be able to forget how I failed. It's my fault Darius is hurt. It's my fault he was injured. If I had just died he wouldn't have been hurt! It's my fault! He's like my younger brother and it's my fault he's hurt! This leg stump is a permanent reminder of my failure!"

Yasmina trails off, clenching her fists in rage and closing her eyes tightly. She would not cry, not in front of her family. Not in front of her friends. Not in front of anyone. She had broken too many times; she would not do it again. She was weak enough already. Yasmina would keep what little dignity she had left by staying dry and silent. Better to be rageful and furious than a crying mess, at least, in her mind.

"Don't give up," Habeeba says softly, taking Yasmina's fist in her gentle, small hand. "You're so strong. You'll make it through this. You always do. You're Wonder Woman."

The anger dissipates, leaving Yasmina with a hollow feeling. A feeling of unworthiness. Her younger sister saw her as a superhero, and she would never be able to live up to her sisters expectations…

"Everyone expects me to be strong," Yasmina thinks. "Everyone expects me to be stubborn. Everyone expects me to bounce back and push through and become some super role model. Someone kids can look up to and say, 'She can do anything!' I thought I was that…"

"How can anyone look up to me?" the voice spits. "I promised my friends that I would take care of them and protect them. They looked up to me as the strongest. And look what happened! I was defeated by the Scorpius rex! I was thrown in the middle of the battlefield and cowered! Ben had to drag me out of there! Then I refused to go back there! Everyone else could! I couldn't help Sammy! I couldn't help any of them! Then I had to go and get stuck in the jaws of the Spino! I could've just swam towards it and that would've been the end! Instead, I tried to escape, forcing them to go get me! I slowed them down! Darius is hurt because they had to carry me! How can anyone look up to me?! I'm not strong! I'm not protective! I'm not fearless!"

"I'm not Wonder Woman," Yasmina says dismally, looking up at her sister. "Not anymore."

The despair in Habeeba's eyes hurt Yasmina's heart. Her younger sister looked like her hopes had just been shattered.

"This isn't you," her mother says softly.

"Well, who am I then?!" Yasmina shouts, making her family flinch. "An idiot who goes on and on stubbornly when she should rest?! A reckless girl who pushed herself past what she could take?! A girl who said she would die for her friends, then chickened out in the end and got her friend hurt?!" Her voice cracks at the end. "Is that who I am?!"

Her family stands there in shocked silence.

"I'm missing a leg," Yasmina whispers. "I'm not the same person you guys knew. Please…" she pleads, a tear sliding down her cheek, "please stop expecting me to come back exactly the same…"

"Okay," her mother whispers.

There is an awkward silence. "I want to go to my room," Yasmina mumbles.

Her family looks at the stairs leading to the second floor. There wasn't a way to gracefully get her wheelchair up to her room.

"I can carry you up there," her step-father offers.

"No," Yasmina sighs. She didn't want to be more of a burden than she already was. "I'll use crutches." She grudgingly gets up from her wheelchair and uses the crutches to climb up the stairs. Her family is anxious; they were scared she would fall. But this was the most determined they had seen her since before the incident, so they allowed her to try.

Yasmina enters her room and flops down on the bed. It was strange, seeing her room again. It didn't feel like home…

"How is Brooklynn handling this?" Yasmina wonders, having a sudden concern for her friend. She texts her, hoping to get an answer.

"Having a panic attack. And a depression attack. And a suicidal thoughts attack," Brooklynn answers.

Yasmina could guess what was going through Brooklynn's head. "So you're not doing good."

"What do I do?"

"Hang in there. Things will get better, but not if you end it. You've got 2 more days until you move to Texas. Just hang on."

"Why don't I listen to the advice I give Brooklynn?" a small voice asks her.

Yasmina ignores it.

She waits a couple minutes, and Brooklynn doesn't answer back. The athlete begins to panic. "Brook?" she texts.

The only notifications she was getting was from the boys in the group chat. "Yaz? Brooklynn? Roll call!" Darius texts.

Slightly annoyed—her focus was on Brooklynn—she texts, "I'm fine."

"Brook!" she texts again, beginning to get worried. "You better not do anything stupid!"

After a few minutes of going on an anxious rant, Brooklynn answers back. "Thanks, Yaz. I was just having a panic attack."

Yasmina sighs with relief. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry," Brooklynn apologizes. "My parents want me off my phone so that I don't check Youtube. They say I need to wait thirty minutes."

"You'll survive it," Yasmina promises her. "I'll be here when you get back on."

"WML," Brooklynn texts.

It takes a bit of Googling for Yasmina to figure out that she said, "Wish me luck."

She lays there for a minute before remembering Darius. Feeling guilty for not saying much—he had more worry and anxiety about the group being separated than Brooklynn, possibly—she texts him back. "Sorry. Was busy trying to talk to Brooklynn. She was having a panic attack."

"I know the feeling," Darius answers back. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, but her parents have taken away her phone for thirty mins," she explains. "Want her to get off of Youtube and stuff."

"Stupid," he texts. "She's got separation anxiety, and they're going to cut off her only way of communicating?"

"They're not the best parents," she agrees. "They proved that much by neglecting her before."

"Well, how are you doing?"

"Okay…"

"What does that mean?"

"Same old cheap. Creep. Crap!" Yasmina texts, trying several times to undo what autocorrect had incorrectly corrected.

After a minute, Darius answers back with a bunch of laughing emojis. "Struggle much?"

"In more ways than one…" Yasmina answers.

"Well, I have to go to bed now," Darius answers. "TTYT."

Again, Yasmina has to Google what he meant. "Talk to you tomorrow. Hmm, I should really brush up on my texting slang," she thinks, amused.

That night, her sleep was restless and disturbed as she dealt with nightmare after nightmare. After tossing and turning in her sleep, she sits up straight with a small yelp. "I'm home. I'm home…" she tells herself, panting from fear.

Her throat feels dry and sore, as if she had been screaming. She couldn't have been screaming, though; none of her family was there for her in concern. Yasmina looks at her nightstand, wishing for a glass of water. There was nothing there.

Sighing, she begrudgingly takes up her crutches and carefully limps downstairs to the kitchen. She takes a glass of water and slowly sips it as she zones out in the kitchen. "Why did this have to happen?" she asks herself. "I'd rather just unsubscribe from life if this is the content I have to deal with now."

Despite herself, she chuckles at the idea of life being the Internet. Yasmina takes up her crutches and begins to climb back up the stairs. When she's halfway up, a low growl startles her, and she catches herself with her right arm. "What was that?!" she begins to freak out. Her head whips around, searching for the source of the growl.

Her eyes land on Roxie in her crate. "You have a dog, remember?" she tells herself. "It was probably her. She was probably the one who growled."

Just as she was about to calm herself with this thought, she thought she heard the growl again. The hair on the back of her neck stands up and she freezes. It sounded like it was right above her, down the hallway upstairs…

Yasmina holds her breath, daring not to breathe out of sheer panic. The low growl happens again, this time, accompanied by a tapping sound. Like claws on metal…

Was this a hallucination? A flashback? Yasmina could clearly see her house, and hear her family sleeping. It couldn't be a flashback… could it? Perhaps a hallucination? Could you have hallucinations as part of PTSD?

The tapping gets closer… and closer… and closer… Yasmina is on the brink of a full fledged panic attack. She hears a grinding sound… like a dinosaur chewing without food…

This sends her over the edge. She shuts her eyes tight, panting. "It's not real, it's not real! The scorpion dinosaur can't be here! Just LOOK! It's not going to be there!"

No matter how much she willed herself, she couldn't lift her head to look up. "It won't be there! This is a panic attack! A hallucination! It's not real!"

But what if it was…

Yasmina crawls backwards, then scrambles back into the corner of the kitchen. She presses her back firmly against the cabinet doors, breathing heavily. She can still hear whatever was upstairs breathing and chomping and tapping. The athlete pulls her knees up to her chest and trembles. "This isn't real…" she tells herself quietly.

After what felt like hours of agonizing torture, she hears heavier footsteps climbing down the stairs. She glances a peek through her knees. Jabari had come downstairs, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Yasmina?" he yawns. "What's wrong?"

"There's something up there…" she whispers. She felt somewhat silly and childish for saying it, but she couldn't help shivering.

"There's nothing up there…" Jabari says, looking upstairs.

Yasmina listens. The sounds were beginning to fade…

"Do you need help getting upstairs?" her younger brother asks, approaching her.

Yasmina nods, wiping away tears. Under normal circumstances, she would've rolled her eyes and told him to get lost. She normally refused help from her siblings if she was in a bad mood, even if they could help her. It was the principal of the matter, especially if they were younger than her. But considering the situation, she really could use the help, despite her dignity. Not that she had much dignity anymore…

Jabari slings his sister's arm over his shoulder and helps her limp up the stairs to her room. She flops down on the bed with a sigh, not even bothering to climb under the covers. It was cold, but she didn't have the motivation to get under the covers.

Wordlessly, her younger brother pulls the covers out from under her and tucks her in. Then he walks around to the other side. "Want me to stay with you tonight?"

Yasmina groans out a grumble of approval, and he climbs under the covers. Jabari slowly inches his way over to hug his sister. Yasmina wasn't sure if he was afraid of her reaction, or was just uncomfortable with snuggling with his older sister. Either way, he ended up with his arms wrapped around her, snoring softly in her ear. It almost reminded Yasmina of Kenji and Sammy snoring on the island, and turned out to be comforting. She drifts off to sleep a bit easier with her brother there.

"Well, we're here," Mr. Kon says, stepping out of the helicopter.

Kenji steps out and sighs, dreading meeting the intimidating father of his crush.

"Howdy, Mr. Kon," Mr. Gutierrez says jollyly, enthusiastically shaking Kenji's fathers hand.

"Thank you for offering to take Kenji," Mr. Kon nods. "It's such short notice, but the house is not ready yet."

"Eh, don't mention it," Mr. Gutierrez shrugs. "Works out perfectly. When the Bowman's move tomorrow, Darius will be stayin' with us. Grace will have to work and won't be able to keep a close eye on him, so he'll be stayin' here. Guess your boy here will be able to keep Darius company."

"Wait, hold up, what?!" Kenji panics in his head. "I'm staying here? Here?! Here with Sammy's family?! With him?!"

"Well, thanks anyway," Mr. Kon says. "I have to go check and see how things are coming along with the building."

"Okay," Kenji nods, forcing a smile as he tries to hide his anxiety.

"Come on," Mr. Gutierrez gestures with his head. "You're the only camper I haven't met yet."

"For good reason," Kenji grins nervously, says goodbye to his father, and follows the Texan to the house. This was surprisingly the first time Kenji had a good look at the entire family all in one place. It was funny how the sisters had become a mix of their parents, each in their own ways.

Mrs. Gutierrez had straight brown hair, almost auburn. She had a sand-colored complexion, thin eyebrows and high cheekbones. She had large brown eyes and a gentle smile. She was a thin, petite woman, in between Brooklynn and Yasmina's height. As for Mr. Gutierrez, he was the opposite. He had a complexion closer to caramel, and had a round, full face covered by a crazy black beard. The man had curly black hair and tiny brown eyes that disappeared under his thick eyebrows. He had the broadest shoulders, barrel of a torso, and big, meaty hands hardened from ranchwork. He was 5'10", same height as Kenji.

The Gutierrez girls were a mix of the two. All six had the same, round face shape as their father. Sammy, Miriam, and Shelby had cute, chubby cheeks like their father, while Holly, Rio, and Sandra had high cheekbones and an angular face like their mother. They all had the same large, brown eyes as their mother, and the Cheshire cat smile of their father.

Sammy's hair was black like her fathers, but straight like her mothers. She had inherited the wider body shape from her father, as well as her height—5'7". "No wonder she's got a bad self image, she's probably picked on for her height and size," Kenji muses. Still, he didn't see anything wrong or ugly about her.

Holly was quite the opposite. She had auburn hair that was curlier than Mr. Gutierrez's. She was slim and curvy like her mother, but inherited her fathers taller stature at 5'8".

Miriam appeared more like her father. She was thicker like Sammy, with black curly hair and bushy eyebrows. The only difference was, she was about 5'3"; couldn't be much taller than Brooklynn.

Rio appeared more like her mother. She was slim and thin, with brown, straight hair. She was on the shorter side, at about 4'11". She had this look about her face, though, that didn't match either of her parents.

Sandra was on the skinny side, with curly brown hair that frizzes around her face. She leaned more towards being taller; she was three years younger than Rio, but couldn't be more than an inch shorter.

Shelby was on the chubby side, but it added to her cuteness factor. She was most likely going to be short like her mother, but it was hard to tell with her being six. She had stick straight, black hair set in cute, short pigtail braids.

"Howdy," Holly says loudly, snapping in his face.

"Sorry," Kenji apologizes with a sheepish grin, realizing that he had been zoning out.

"Girls! Have ya met Kenji?" Mr. Gutierrez asks. "He seems to be the shyest boy in the group. Not once have I heard him say a word to me."

Shelby and Sandra start laughing at the idea of Kenji being shy. Miriam and Holly give Kenji a hard stare. The boy gulps. He had a feeling that Sammy had told her older sisters how they felt about each other.

"Kenji's not shy or quiet," Sandra laughs.

"Welp, he must be one of those kids who's shy around adults," Mr. Gutierrez says, scratching his beard.

"Who happens to be standing right next to you, Papa," Rio points out, giving Kenji a sympathetic look. The boy just stood there, unsure what to do as the family discussed him in his presence.

"No," Shelby shakes her head with a grin. "He just doesn't like you."

Kenji's heart skips a beat and he yelps. "WhAt?!"

"He doesn't like me?" Mr. Gutierrez frowns in confusion.

"Yeah," Shelby laughs. "He thinks you're scary!"

"Why would he think I'm scary?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, putting his arm around Kenji's shoulders.

"Because he likes Sammy!" Shelby spills the tea as Sammy's Abuela pushes her in the wheelchair towards them.

Sammy's eyes widen as she hears the words fly out of the six year olds mouth. Her and Kenji share a glance of panic. Kenji's anxiety is heightened when he sees how scared she is.

"He likes Sammy?" Sammy's father quirks an eyebrow, his grip on Kenji's shoulder tensing slightly. "Likes her how?"
"Like, kissy face likes her," Shelby grins, puckering her lips.

"Oh, really?" The jolly attitude was disappearing quickly. "And I assume you knew about this, Sam?"

Sammy nods cautiously. "Yeah…"

"Entonces, ¿sabías que le gustas románticamente a este chico y nunca me lo habías dicho? (So, you knew that this boy likes you romantically, and you never told me about it?)" Mr. Gutierrez switches to Spanish, glaring at his daughter.

Kenji gulps, knowing that it was about to get messy for both him and Sammy.

"¡Estábamos ocupados con el juicio, papá! (We were busy with the trial, Papa!)" Sammy exclaims, trying to come to her defense. "Mi mente estaba ocupada… (My mind was occupied…)"

"¿Qué tan interesado está en ti? (How interested in you is he?)" Mr. Gutierrez asks.

"Muy interesado… (Very interested…)" Sammy mumbles.

"¿Por qué? (Why?)"

"Primero fuimos amigos. Pensó que yo era súper agradable y dulce, y se enamoró… (We were friends first. He thought I was super nice and sweet, and fell in love…)"

"No lo creo. (I don't believe it.)"

"¡Es un buen chico! Es cariñoso y dulce, ¡lo prometo! (He's a good guy! He's sweet and caring, I promise!)"

"¿Ha probado algo romántico? (Has he tried anything romantic?)"

"Me besó ... ¡No es realmente su culpa! ¡No le dije que no tenía permitido tener una cita! (He kissed me… It's not really his fault! I didn't tell him I wasn't allowed to date!)"

"¿Pero todavía pensaba que estaba bien? (But he still thought that was okay?)"

Sammy sighs. "El no es Cristiano. (He's not Christian.)"

"Inaceptable!" Mr. Gutierrez exclaims.

Kenji didn't have to speak Spanish to understand the last two sentences. He wasn't a Christian, and it wasn't acceptable.

"Why don't you get to know him yourself, since you don't believe me?" Sammy suggests angrily. Kenji had never seen her get angry before… "You're going to anyway, why waste the time of me trying to talk you out of it?"

"Don't give me that attitude," her father snaps. Her mother takes off her flip flop and smacks Sammy on the head. The girls rebellious, irritated attitude disappears as she flinches.

"The la chancla," Kenji whispers.

"Well, at least he's familiar with that!" Holly laughs, hearing what he muttered.

"Nothing will happen between you two," Mr. Gutierrez decides, shutting it down quickly.

"Papa! You can't immediately shut it down without getting to know him!" Sammy protests.

"Samantha, you seem to attract playboy jerks," Miriam points out. Kenji winces.

"I do not!" Sammy snaps.

Her father opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Sammy lets out a sharp grunt in disgust, knowing that he felt the same way.

"I like Kenji! He'd be a good older brother!" Shelby clings to his leg with a grin.

"Yeah! He's super nice and funny!" Sandra adds.

"I mean, from what I've heard about him, he was a player," Rio says shyly. "He was the bad boy type. But it's hard to believe because he can be such a good guy. And he was scared of us, instead of coming in arrogantly, so I guess that's a good sign…"

Kenji and Sammy smile gratefully at her. "I like this kid," Kenji thinks.

"Austin, let's give him a chance," Mrs. Gutierrez steps in gently. "He is good friends with her, and you hardly know him."

Mr. Gutierrez scratches his beard thoughtfully. "Aight, I'll give you a trial period. Ya hear me?"

"Yes, Sir," Kenji nods, standing up straight. His eyes flicker between the ground and the man's hard stare.

"Tomorrow mornin', I'm goin' huntin' with my brothers," Mr. Gutierrez says. "You'll come along. See what you've got."

"Yes, Sir," Kenji nods again.

"Bright and early tomorrow mornin'," Mr. Gutierrez grunts. "At least he's respectful," he mutters to his wife as he heads into the house.

Kenji lets out a sigh, before Holly whacks him across the back of his head. Her and Miriam saunter into the house.

"I am so sorry," Sammy apologizes, grimacing. "My family is super protective."

"It's okay," Kenji sighs. "Honestly, I figured that he'd shoot me on the spot."

"My Papa runs off every boy I've ever known," Sammy explains. "Even if they're just friends, he'll still try to intimidate them. It's kind of his gig. The only reason Ben and Darius got away without intimidation is because they're younger and they're like brothers."

"He cares about your wellbeing," her mother assures her. "Sometimes he does go overboard, but he doesn't want to see you get hurt."

"He definitely went overboard this time," Sammy sighs.

"Not necessarily," Mrs. Gutierrez purses her lips. "We don't know you, and…"

"I know," Kenji sighs. "I was prepared for this… I know I'm not… exactly the best kid for your daughter. Far from it… But, I would like a chance to prove myself." "A chance to be evaluated and see if I'm worthy," he thinks.

"Everyone can change, and everyone has a past," Mrs. Gutierrez says, a small smile forming. "You might not be bad at all, and this is a situation of judging a book by its cover."

"Do you think I'm a bad kid?" Kenji winces.

"I don't know you," Mrs. Gutierrez shrugs. "I can't say either way. But you've come respectfully and aren't prancing around on a high horse, so you seem to be humble. You deserve a chance."

She leaves the two alone. Sammy gives him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry."

"I trust you with my sister," Shelby tackles his leg, grinning up at him.

"Welp, at least I have some support," Kenji chuckles.

That night, he tosses and turns in his bed. He would feel much better when Darius had moved in with them. Halfway through the night, he had to use the restroom, but he dared not leave the room for fear they would think he had other intentions. Kenji's mind tormented him, coming up with worst scenarios and horrible ideas. The scariest thought was that he would never be worthy of Sammy's love…

Before the sun was even climbing the dark grey sky, the door opened. "Time to go," Mr. Gutierrez tells him, leaving the door open.

Kenji quickly gets dressed, uses the restroom, and heads downstairs. He wasn't sure if he should eat breakfast, and if he should, what he could have. Ignoring his twisting, turning stomach, he skips breakfast and heads outside, steeling himself for what might come.

"Ready to go?" Mr. Gutierrez's older brother asks, finishing cleaning his rifle.

"I'm waitin' on the kid," Mr. Gutierrez sighs.

"Justin?" Travis asks.

"Naw, new one," Mr. Gutierrez sputters. "He's into Sammy. Survived the island with her."

"Hey, is he a nice kid?" his uncle asks.

"I don't know!" Mr. Gutierrez shrugs. "I met him yesterday!"

"What's his signal?" the uncle asks.

"His what?" Travis frowns.

"His signal," the uncle repeats again.

"Ces!" Mr. Gutierrez sighs. "What do you mean, his signal?"

"What signal does he give?" the old man shrugs, as if it was obvious.

"I think he means, what image does he give, Austin," Mr. Gutierrez's older brother elaborates.

"He gives me mixed signals," Austin sighs. "Ahh, that's what you meant." His uncle starts laughing. Chuckling, Mr. Gutierrez continues. "He looks like a typical party boy, and he ain't Christian, but he's scared as all git out of me. Thought I'd have him come along and get to know him. And… maybe scare him outta it with guns."

His brothers and uncle laugh.

Kenji leaves the house and steps out onto the porch. It was dusk, and the sun was just beginning to rise. He could see a group of men taking care of rifles in the distance. He gulps and begins towards them. The boy did not want to do this.

"Aight," Mr. Gutierrez says, seeing Kenji approach them. "Kenji, this is my family. My older brother, Carlos. My younger brother, Travis. And this is my baby brother, Jorge."

"Not a baby," Jorge grumbles.

"And this is my cuckoo uncle Cesario," Mr. Gutierrez sighs, pointing to the gray bearded man behind him.

"Howdy," Cesario grins, tipping his cowboy hat.

"Hey," Kenji nods, sticking his hands in his pockets. He wasn't sure if he should be formal or casual. They seemed to be more casual in speech, so he didn't want to seem too uptight.

"Whatcha think about us, boy?" Travis asks.

The first thing he noticed about Travis was that he had the same look in his face as Rio. Kenji wondered why, but made sure to keep his mouth shut… "That… you guys are the Texan version of Duck Dynasty?"

The men thought that was funny. "Naw, they copied us," Uncle Cesario laughs.

"Aight, let's git out," Mr. Gutierrez says, slinging a rifle over his shoulder. The men head out in their two trucks, heading to the woods to hunt deer for dinner. Kenji sat in the back with Uncle Cesario, while Mr. Gutierrez and his older brother Carlos sat in the front. Travis and Jorge traveled in another truck.

"We're all corn-fed, so we ain't gonna fit together in one truck," Carlos explained. He was the more soft-spoken brother of the group, as Kenji had figured out. The whole way there, Uncle Cesario went off on tales of cattle herding and hunting and wrestling matches between him and his brother. Sadly, Sammy's grandfather had passed away when her father was twelve from a sickness—although Uncle Cesario and Mr. Gutierrez couldn't agree on what it was. Carlos, at fifteen, had to work to help their mother keep the ranch afloat. Uncle Cesario had pitched in, and together with Carlos, helped raise the younger boys.

Kenji listens in awe as he goes on. Sammy had given him a vague storyline for her family, but this was much more detail than she had told him. Uncle Cesario showed him a picture of his brother, and Kenji sees Travis in his face. He also saw the same look in Rio's face, explaining why she looked a bit different from her family. Mr. Gutierrez looked more like his mother, as did Jorge, while Carlos was a spitting image of their father.

When they arrived at the hunting grounds, it was Kenji's turn to be questioned. "Do you know how to shoot a gun?" Carlos asks.

Kenji nods. "I've had some practice with the ACUs."

"The what?" Travis asks.

"Asset containment unit," Kenji says. "They're kinda like the guards at Jurassic World."

"Ah, so you were shootin' up the dinos?" Jorge asks.

"No," Kenji says sheepishly. "Sammy took on that role."

"Atta girl!" Mr. Gutierrez smirks.

As the men show him how to hunt and track down game, they grill him on his past. "So, got any siblings?" Jorge asks quietly.

"No," Kenji shakes his head.

"What about yer parents?" Travis asks.

"Mom's dead, Dad's…" Kenji trails off.

"Never around?" Carlos suggests.

Kenji nods.

"Figured," Travis sputters. "Seems like the guy to chase work instead of raise a kid."

"Well," Kenji starts, feeling the need to defend his father. "He's trying to be there for me and change."

"Little too late," Travis shrugs. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," Kenji answers.

"Have you had any other girlfriends?" Mr. Gutierrez asks.

"Yeah," Kenji nods, ashamed.

From then on, they began to grill his dating and school life. The more they question and the more they frown, the more Kenji feels self conscious. He knew he wasn't the purest soul, and he certainly wasn't the best kid before he went to camp, and he felt bad about it. He cringed when he looked back on his past, and wished he could curl up in a ball and not tell them any of it. The worst part was that they were surrounded by guns and could conceivably turn on him whenever they wanted to.

"This can't get any worse," Kenji says, jinxing himself as Carlos stands up to shoot a deer. The gun goes off and Kenji practically jumps at the sound. Flashes of running up the metal stairs in the dark lab and shooting at the Scorpius rex come back. An image of Yasmina curled up on the metal ground, blood beginning to run down her leg surfaces. Snippets of being caught in between the Carnotaurus and Giganotosaurus at InGen's camp appear.

As quickly as it came on, the flashback leaves. Panting, Kenji looks around. The Gutierrez men were staring at him. "Flashback," he mutters, trying to calm his shaking hands.

"Did someone shoot at ya?" Uncle Cesario asks.

"Not really," Kenji mumbles, sighing. "Had to shoot a hybrid to save Yaz."

After Kenji's first flashback, the men calmed down on the questioning.

After a few hours in the woods, the group heads back with a significant amount of game. Kenji's stomach was growling, but he didn't dare ask for any food, in fear that he might say something wrong.

Darius and Brooklynn's families had moved down from their states and the Gutierrez's lent a hand with the boxes. Kenji looks around, searching for his friends when he's tackled from behind. "Kenji!" Brooklynn shouts, clinging to him like a koala bear.

"Hey!" Kenji grins, smiling for the first time since the day before. "Happy to see me?"

"Elated," Brooklynn whispers, sighing with relief. She looked like two tons of worry had been lifted off her shoulders.

Kenji gives her a piggyback ride into the house and they look around together. "Never had a house with a second floor before," Brooklynn remarks as Kenji spins around.

After goofing off a bit, they head back downstairs to help move the boxes and furniture in. Kenji helps Mr. Gutierrez move the couch into the living room when someone new walks in. "Need any help?" Dave asks.

"Dave?" Kenji says in surprise. In his moment's distraction, his grip slips and the metal leg of the couch falls onto his foot. Searing pain shoots up his foot and he jerks it back. The boy bites his lip, refraining from saying every swear word he knew.

"Ooh! Are ya okay?" Mr. Gutierrez grimaces, wondering if it was his fault.

"Yeah," Kenji sputters, trying not to sound too high-pitched. "Shake it off, shake it off, shake it off," he tells himself, taking in deep breaths to steel himself.

"Ow," Dave winces. "That was painful for me."

"It's fine," Kenji insists, limping away from where Travis and Milton were placing the coffee table. "I've dealt with bullet fragments in my chest, I'm fine."

He turns around the see the whole group staring at him. "What? I shot at a metal grate and it bounced back," Kenji explains.

"That's awful!" Sandra exclaims.

"I've dealt with the least amount of injuries on the island," Kenji sighs, trying to distract himself from the pain. "Which is surprising, since I'm the stupid one among them."

The bit of humor distracts him and the group from the pain he was in. Kenji continues to help the Monell's move in, ignoring the pain and brushing off others' attempts to help him. Once finished, the group sits down on the floor to eat take-out. "Are you sure you're fine?" Brooklynn asks in concern, having watched him limp the whole day.

"Yeah," Kenji nods, concealing his grimace. It still hurt a lot. "I'm fine."

"You sound like Yaz," Brooklynn chuckles.

"Well, she's not a complainer," Kenji shrugs.

Brooklynn looks between him and Mr. Gutierrez. "He found out, huh?"

"Yeah," Kenji nods. "Been grilling me all day. I'm so nervous, Brook."

"Don't be, you're a great guy and he'll see that," Brooklynn encourages him. "There's no need to be scared."

"He took me on a hunting trip with his brothers and uncle," Kenji says grimly.

"Oh," she says, taking a bite of her sandwich to conceal her giggles.

"This is the first time I've eaten today," Kenji remarks.

"Why?" Brooklynn asks in concern.

"Nerves!" Kenji hisses, making her laugh.

After lunch, Kenji and Brooklynn head back to the ranch. Sammy and Darius greet them. While his mother and Brandon moved into their house, Darius had stayed with Sammy and her Abuela at the ranch. They had helped him settle into the room Kenji was staying in. After an hour of talking, Holly appears in the doorway. "Kenji," she says, beckoning him to come with her.

Kenji looks at Sammy, who gives him an apologetic shrug. He follows her older sister down the stairs and into the kitchen. "You're gonna help us cook dinner," Holly says decisively.

"Okay…" Kenji says hesitantly, moving fully into the kitchen. Holly and Miriam were giving him a hard stare, making him very uncomfortable. As they cook dinner, the girls grill him as well, asking questions about his dating life and how he treats girls. They also critique his ability to cook—which was horrendous due to the fact that the only reason he set foot in his kitchen was to mess with their cooks.

"Remember that time when some idiot was bullying Sammy for her weight in kindergarten?" Holly asks Miriam as she stirs the pot.

"Oh, yeah, and you punched his lights out?" Miriam laughs. "He about lit outta there."

Kenji gulps, focusing on cutting the onions the way Holly had instructed him. He knew they were trying to intimidate him… well, it was working.

"Or the time we tied up Tyler to a tree cause he was being a little too weird around Sam?" Miriam laughs.

"His mom was wonderin' where he was and we were like, 'Oh! We forgot about him!'" Holly cackles.

"Too bad it wasn't calving season for the herd," Miriam snickers. "Then the coyotes might could've gotten him."

"They're just protective, they're just protective," Kenji reminds himself, enduring the girls interrogation until their mother came in and quietly told them to stop.

Dinner was a loud, rowdy fiasco as they had three different families joining in. As Kenji had learned, the Gutierrez were enough chaos on their own. But then, they added in the uncles, Monell's and Bowman's and things got really loud. He could see Rio retreating under the porch to avoid the group, and Kenji wished he could join her. Instead, he was forced to stay with his friends and fake a smile through the night. "Can I go to bed, yet?" he wonders exhaustedly, grimacing as someone bumps his aching toe.

"Aww, you have to stay!" a muffled cry comes from the closed door of Habeeba's room.

Yasmina stops in her journey to her room and listens in.

"No, we have to move to Texas," Habeeba explains to her friends.

"But why?" another whines.

"Yazzy needs to be with her friends, and they're all moving to Texas," Habeeba says. "So we have to move."

"But that's just selfish!" a girl cries out. Yasmina guessed that it was Bridget, Habeeba's best friend. "Why should she make you guys move just because she wants to see her friends?"

Those words pierce Yasmina's heart and she feels as if someone had literally stabbed her.

"Yeah, she should just suck it up!" another friend agrees. "It's not fair to make you move!"

"But she needs her friends, it's not her fault!" Habeeba argues.

"But why should you leave just because she's a coward?" Bridget asks.

"She's not a coward!" Habeeba shouts. "She's struggling, okay?! You go live with dinos and see how you deal with it!"

Yasmina leans her head on the wall, tears slipping out. Habeeba's friends were right. Her family was being uprooted because of her! It wasn't fair to the rest of them! It wasn't their fault that she had PTSD!

Yasmina uses her crutches to limp down the hall. She moves her hand to turn her bedroom door knob, but hesitates. She had herself in a pickle. She hated crying in front of others, even her family, but hated the idea of being alone with her memories now…

Finally deciding the humiliation was better than the flashbacks, she opens Ghaleb's bedroom door. Four extra faces greet her. "Oh, never mind…" she mumbles, realizing that he was hanging out with his friends.

They must've noticed her tear stained face, because all five boys beckoned her in. "Come on, it's fine," Jasper shrugs.

"Yeah, you're always welcome," Brayden smiles.

Taking a second to decide, Yasmina begrudgingly limps into the room and flops down in the corner. Ignoring the faces of shock, she pulls her knees up to her chest and buries her face in it. She knew Ghaleb wasn't peachy about leaving his friends, and they weren't happy about it either…

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Ghaleb asks.

"No," she grumbles, wishing he would leave her alone. It crossed her mind to leave the room, but the idea of flashbacks kept her rooted to her spot.

The group can hear Habeeba arguing with her friends. After a bit of shouting, they were able to deduce what was causing the racket. "Did you overhear them?" Adrien asks, ever the sensitive, intuitive friend.

Yasmina doesn't answer.

"Sounds like they're not happy," Jasper whistles.

"You guys aren't happy either," Yasmina mutters.

"Yeah, but we'll make it work," Zaid shrugs.

"You shouldn't have to…" she murmurs.

"Don't take it personally," Ghaleb tells her, scooting over. "It's not your fault that this happened."

"Ghaleb, we're moving because of me," Yasmina mutters. "You're leaving your bros behind because of me." Part of her wished that he would get mad and shout, instead of this sympathetic, caring look he was giving her. She didn't deserve this sympathy…

"Yeah, but it's not like you can control it," Ghaleb shrugs. "Don't beat yourself up about it. It is what it is."

"But I should be able to control it," the voice murmurs. "I should be able to control my emotions and my fear. But I can't, and it's my fault that we have to leave our friends behind. Would they be better off without me? Then they wouldn't have to uproot for me… My friends are better off without me… Darius certainly would be better off without me…"

Ghaleb and his friends try to reassure her that she wasn't a bother, but she ignores them. Finally, she agrees with them and fakes a smile to make them stop pestering her.

That night, Yasmina sits at the base of the stairs, listening to the argument going on downstairs. "I don't want to move!" Jabari practically shouts. "I want to stay here with my friends! Our life is here! I don't want to find a new normal in a new state! Again…"

"I know," her step-father sighs. "I wish we didn't have to move either, but—"

"I know! I know! Yasmina needs to be with her friends!" Jabari snaps.

"It's not your sister's fault," her mother says softly.

"I know," Jabari sighs. "I know it's not her fault and I'm not mad at her… I'm just mad at the situation. I know, I'm a terrible brother…"

Tears run down her face as she listens to her younger brother rant. It hurt to hear him sound so angry, all because she couldn't take PTSD on her own. Her parents send Jabari on up to bed, and Yasmina crawls back to her room before he could see her. She pretends to be asleep as her parents check on her, and waits for everyone to be in bed. Once it was quiet, she crawled downstairs and quietly opened the front door. A blast of cold air greets her and she steps onto the front porch. There was still snow on the ground, and she sat down on the freezing cold concrete. She was in shorts and a thin T-shirt, but she didn't care. As she sat there, slowly numbing, she drifted deeper and deeper into thought…

"It's my fault," the voice hisses. "They're moving because of me. They all have to leave their friends because of me. They shouldn't have to do this… It's all my fault. Darius got hurt because of me… It's all my fault."

As Yasmina shivers, that phrase repeats itself over and over and over again. "It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault."

She watches her breath come out as white fog. "All I do is cause trouble and pain for my loved ones… they would be better off without me…"

She blinks and stares out into the snow. What if she ran away? What if she ran into the woods and left her family? They wouldn't be burdened by her, and they wouldn't have to move for her. Sure, they would be upset and mourn her and search for her, but in the long run… it would be better for them…

"Where would I go?" she thinks to herself. "I won't be able to make it on my own… and in this temperature, I would freeze to death… I'm struggling with flashbacks, anyway. If I'm not going to have my friends and family to live for, why try to survive out there? I could run away and lay down in the snow… I could slowly slip away, and it wouldn't be painful…"

Yasmina shakes her head. What was she thinking?! Ben was right, she was becoming depressed and suicidal! She was heading down the same route that Brooklynn was! "How can I expect her to get better if I'm depressed and running away and killing myself?!" she tells herself. Still, it was a struggle of pushing away those thoughts…

As she stares out into the blinding white snow in the dark, something flashes by. Yasmina is startled out of her thoughts. What was that? Her first thought was that it was a stray cat or a rabbit running into their backyard. But it was too quick for that… One moment it was there, the next it was gone. It couldn't have moved that quickly… and there weren't any tracks in the snow…

On second thought, there was no definite shape. It wasn't exactly a shadow, but it wasn't solid either… More like a solid, blurry shadow streaking across the ground… except it only ran about a foot in space before it disappeared…

Yasmina was freaked out of her mind. She definitely saw something move, but how could there be no tracks in the snow? And how could it disappear as quickly as it appeared? Her first thought was a demon or a spirit, but she quickly dismisses it. Her second thought was a dinosaur. She tries to dismiss it, but it was harder… she couldn't help but imagine a Compy or even a Dilo popping its head out of the snowy bushes by their porch. The longer she sat there, the farther her imagination ran. She was beginning to imagine a creature from a horror movie attacking her when Roxie barks from inside.

Yasmina jumps and almost screams, scared out of her wits. She can hear her parents come downstairs and open the cage. They would be bringing the puppy outside to use the restroom. Now was her chance to run away. Did she want to run away? Did she really want to cause her family and friends that emotional anguish?

Willing herself not to run away, not to die in the cold, she sits there as her mother opens the door. "Yasmina!" her mother exclaims in surprise, being tugged towards the snow by the puppy. "What are you doing out here?"

Yasmina looks down at her crossed legs, ashamed to meet her mothers eyes. She hadn't pulled this stunt in a while. Not since Leah had betrayed her…

"Come inside, you're going to get frostbite," her step-father hisses, picking her up and carrying her into the house. He sets her on the couch as her mother comes back in. "Wrap her up," she says, putting Roxie back in her crate.

Her step-father wraps Yasmina up in a soft blanket. She hadn't realized how much she was shivering until she came inside. "Why do you do this?" he asks.

Yasmina sobs as she shivers. "I wanted to run away," she finally admits. "Wanted to freeze in the snow and slip away. You guys would be better off without me…"

"No, no, don't ever think that's true!" her mother hisses, lifting her chin to force Yasmina to look her in the eye. "Don't ever think that we would be better off without you! Don't blame yourself for whatever is going on, please!"

Yasmina sobs as her parents hold her. "You guys have to move… It's my fault… You're better off without me…"

"No, it's not your fault," her father whispers.

Her mother sighs. "Maybe it would be better if you were with one of your friends right now. At least, until we move to Texas."

Yasmina leans into her mothers embrace, sobbing. "They would be better off without me…" the voice repeats, over and over and over…

"My fault? How is this my fault?!" Mrs. Monell snaps.

"She's a young girl! She needs someone to look up to, and you were never there for her!" her husband spits.

"I was never there for her?!" she gasps. "I was around more than you, and still am! This whole process, I've been there for Brooklynn, and you've barely been around! This whole time I've been supporting her and helping her through her depression—"

"Supporting her with what job?!" he practically shouts. "Your failed fashion line?!"

"At least I'm trying to make an effort and be there for her!" Mrs. Monell yells at him.

"Yeah, it's really showing!" he snaps. "She freaks out any time she's away from her friends and you can't calm her down!"

Brooklynn sits at the top of the stairs, curled up into a ball. "I knew it," she thinks. "They hate each other. And they're fighting because of me…"

"I. Can't. Stand you!" her mother shouts.

"Well, what's stopping you from leaving?!" her father shouts.

"Our kids," her mother sighs, quieting down. "We can't separate… not now…"

"They're staying in a relationship with someone they hate because of me," Brooklynn thinks, tears sliding down her face.

"They would be better off without me…" the voice choruses. "Everyone would… If I was gone, my friends wouldn't have to stress about keeping me alive. I'm just adding stress to their lives…"

"Hey," Milton whispers, appearing behind her.

"They're fighting because of me," Brooklynn whispers, in tears.

"It's not your fault, I don't know why they got married in the first place," Milton whispers back, crouching beside her.

"I'm keeping them in this relationship," she sobs.

"At least they care enough about you to stay together," he whispers. "If I was the only child, I wonder if they would stay together for me."

Brooklynn looks at him.

"They love you enough to stay married to someone they don't like," Milton tells her. "Come on, you don't need to listen to this." He picks up his sister and carries her into her room. He wasn't super strong, and hardly worked out, but she wasn't heavy by any stretch of the imagination. He drops her down on her bed. "Do you want me to stay with you?" he asks.

"Yeah," Brooklynn nods. Company was easier to sleep with than herself. Her brother flops down on the other side to fall asleep. Brooklynn lays awake, listening to her parents arguing and wishing she could stay with Sammy. She tries to ignore all the whispery voices in her head, but one continues to repeat itself. "Everyone would be better off without me…"

"Why are you guys being so harsh to Kenji?" Sammy whispers from her bed.

Miriam grunts. "Maybe because he wants to date you."

"He's a good guy," Sammy insists.

"You say that about every guy," Holly mumbles. "When you fall in love, you don't recognize their flaws."

"I fell in love after he became a better guy," Sammy mutters.

"How do you know that change will stick?" Miriam asks.

"When thrown together on an island with danger around every corner, you come to know a person better than their family," Sammy mumbles.

"Fair enough," Holly yawns. "We just want to look out for you. A lot of guys think they can take advantage of you, and we're not going to allow that."

"Yeah, you're not going to be used as rebound anymore," Miriam chimes in.

"Is that all I am? Rebound?" Sammy wonders as she lays in bed. "Is no other guy going to see me the other way? Kenji's different… right? He loves me for who I am…

"Not if they run him off," Sammy concludes. "He's trying to be different, but if my family keeps treating him like he's a trashy playboy, he won't have confidence in himself… Why did he have to fall in love with me? The girl with the super overprotective family? He would've been better off falling in love with Yaz or Brooklynn…"

"Hey," Darius whispers.

It takes great effort for Kenji to open his eyes. "What?" he mumbles sleepily.

"Are you okay?" Darius asks, worried for his friend. The usually goofy Kenji had flopped into bed without a word.

"Yeah," Kenji mumbles.

"How did your first day with the Gutierrez's go?"

"Tiring."

"He found out?"

"Why does everyone say that like it's a horrible secret?"

"It's not, you were just extremely nervous."

"Well, now I'm just exhausted. They questioned me all day."

"They?" Darius frowns.

"Mr. Gutierrez and his brothers and uncle," Kenji sighs. "Holly and Miriam. Pretty much anyone who's overprotective of Sammy. I don't know if I can do this, man. They're so hard on me…"

"Because they want the best for her," Darius tells him.

"But what if Sammy's better off without me?" Kenji asks, slowly rolling over. "What if they're right to be hard on me." He sighs. "I didn't even do a lot of physical work, I'm just mentally exhausted."

"Don't worry, they'll see the good side of you," Darius encourages him. "It won't take long for them to find that."

"Thanks, br," Kenji mumbles.

"Br?" Darius asks.

"I don't have the energy to add the uh," Kenji chuckles.

The boys are silent for a bit. Kenji's mind wanders to Yasmina. "Wonder how she's doing, stuck in her home without the rest of us," he thinks tiredly. "I should pray for her…"

It takes a few seconds for the thought to fully register. "Huh?" he mumbles sleepily. "Why did I think that?"

"What?" Darius asks, yawning.

"Nothing, just…" Kenji sighs, a bit embarrassed by his strangely religious thought. "Just thinking about Yasmina… I just have this worry for her… like something's wr…"

He stops himself from finishing his sentence, knowing what it would do to Darius's mind. But the damage was done, and the gears in Darius's mind start spinning. "What do you think is wrong?" Darius asks, worrying. "Do you think she's okay?"

"Yeah," Kenji nods, lying. "She's got her family, and she's pretty strong. If anything's going on, she'll be fine."

Darius wasn't convinced. He sends a silent prayer, asking for Yasmina to be safe and okay. "She would be fine if I could swim fast," something hisses in his mind. "It's my fault she lost her leg… now her career is ruined and her spirit's crushed and she's disabled because of me. She would've been better off without me in the river…"

Unsettled by Kenji's feeling, the two slowly drift off to sleep, each wishing they could disappear and make their friends' problems go away.