Trigger Warning: Suicide

As far as I'm concerned the moment you opened up this fic you signed on to read about dinosaurs noming on people so no warnings were necessary, but none of you probably thought that this would be a topic to be dealt with. I didn't write this fic to hurt anyone or cause anyone any undo pain, stress, or anxiety.

If this is one of your triggers please email me at enbysaurusrex-at-gmail-dot-com and I will send you an edited version of this chapter without the passages that could be triggering or harmful to your mental health so that you can still enjoy the story without having to suffer to do so.

If other non-dinosaur related, possibly triggering events happen further down the line I will share the same offer so that you can ask for revised chapters! 3

Love y'all! -ENBYsaurus RAWR!


-Westchester, New York, Tuesday 2:12pm EST-

Gentle, natural light filtered in through the window, catching in Candy's white wine and splintering into a scatter of rainbows across the table. Absentmindedly she took the delicate flute between her fingers and rotated the glass watching the luminous display dance across the empty table, disheartened. When Josiah had said that they would be meeting for a late lunch, she hadn't expected it to be this late. She'd been waiting for over half an hour.

Glancing about the muted dining room at the other patrons and waitstaff the woman assured herself that no one was paying her any mind before discreetly slipping out of her heels. Relief washed over her immediately as the stiff high backings released their ironbound grip. Then, as inconspicuously as possible, she crossed one leg over the other to massage her sore and blistered feet beneath the table. Breaking in new shoes was the worst.

"Ma'am?" the calm, inviting voice of her waiter said when he appeared at her elbow moments later, menu in hand.

Candy smiled up at him polite, and apologetic. "It's just going to be a few more minutes." she said, hurriedly sliding her toes back into her shoes, for appearance sake.

"Very good." the man nodded courteously before ducking away again. He was putting on a good face, but she knew from experience the uncomfortable feeling of having to wait on someone who'd been stood up. At least she hadn't been working somewhere so high-end when roles were reversed, she thought, recalling tables of crying girls, and choked up men walking out somberly when their partners hadn't arrived.

Leg bouncing with aggravated impatience Candy pulled her cellphone from her handbag a few minutes later. "Where are you?" she tapped out in a hasty text to Josiah.

Arms crossed she tucked the device into the crook of her elbow. The woman couldn't help but glower, feeling spurned and dejected. Almost immediately however, there was a ticklish, and startling senation as vibrating the phone began to silently ring.

"Hello?" she answered in a whisper.

"Candy." Josiah responded curtly.

"Where are you I thought we were meeting for-"

"I know, I'm sorry. Something came up, have lunch without me." the man said cutting her off. There was something amiss in his tone, she noticed, he seemed almost angry.

"Is everything alright?" she asked brows knit.

"Fine, I'll talk to you later." With that he'd disconnected, leaving his girlfriend to feel deflated as she crestfallen sagged in her chair.

It was alright, she tried telling herself, she was used to being on the back burner, business came first. Acutely aware of the waiter's presence as he came up to her once more the awkwardness of the situation seemed to compel Candy to order something. After a moment's consideration however, she thought better of it, drained her glass and asked for the check. Grudgingly she carried her shoes out, etiquette be damned, and climbed into the back of the car, forehead pressed to the cool glass, heart aching, she felt like crying.

"Just take me home." she muttered, staring out the window at the world rolling by.

It had been like magic when they first met, she was working a second job as part of a catering company that had served a Kon Industries soiree. It was the beginning of fall, and like an idiot she'd forgotten a coat, it was pouring when, party over she stood huddled on the sidewalk trying to hail a cab. Josiah shouldn't have noticed her, and if he had he shouldn't have cared, like the rest of the elite who had passed her by. Yet he did, he gave her his jacket, and umbrella, then offered her a ride. The blaring warning signs against trusting a strange man when she was alone and vulnerable clashed against the fairytale prince he seemed to be in that moment.

Against her better judgement, and freezing cold, she'd accepted. He was charming and had made her laugh on the way home. The next day a dozen roses and stirling parka had been delivered to her apartment, her roommates were insane with jealousy. How they had gotten from there to dating was still a mystery and the woman had lived it. And now?

Now she played second fiddle.

...Third really.

It was hard not to be jealous of a dead woman, but when Candy knew that Josiah's heart would forever belong to Meiko first, his company second, and then, then there was Candy, standing beside him, filling a void, it was hard not to become sick with envy.

A familiar though rarely found red and white sign caught her attention and she asked the driver to make a quick pit stop. Screw this weepy eyed demure lady of social standing bs, that's not who she was, and she was hungry God dang it!

"Do you want anything?" she asked the driver leaning forward.

"No ma'am." he smiled.

"You sure? I won't tell." Candy laughed, there was probably a rule with the car service about their drivers eating while on the clock, but today felt like a day for breaking the rules.

"I'm sure." the older gentleman beamed, deep, joyous wrinkles forming around his eyes.

"Welcome to Arby's, may I take your order?" a muddled voice asked through the speaker.

Sometime later, her hunger more than satiated Candy was walking into the great echoing house she did her best to call "home." Her rebellious-in-love streak still burning bright the woman marched straight into Kenji's room where she flopped down in his favorite chair. She hesitated only an instant before considering the fact that he'd have no way of knowing, and besides it wasn't like he could hate her anymore than he already did.

Fishing a controller up from the floor where it had been abandoned several weeks ago Candy turned on one of his consoles, the familiar excited rush as everything booted washing over her, a wide grin on her face. Why exactly had she given up gaming for Josiah? She pondered, trying to weed out how much of her life was her putting on an act, and how much was Josiah's clear cut expectations of her. She was tired of this tightrope she had to walk, it was time she laid down some rules, set some boundaries, and reminded both of them who she really was. And in the end, she concluded, if Josiah didn't like it she was better off without him. The thought stung, and she struggled to remain firm on the stance, but the injustice that had ignited within her burned steadily.

Losing herself to time Candy had forgotten just how addictive and thrilling videogames could be, it used to be all she would do with her freetime, now all she did was follow her boyfriend around like a lost puppy. Still, she loved him. At the first crack in her resolve, tears beginning to form in her eyes Candy powered everything off and with a sigh went to change into some pajamas.

In more comfortable attire the woman and went to the living room, still bitter from her missed lunch date, and reeling from the inner turmoil and the confliction of self-doubt she lounged across sofa flipping through an endless stream of channels. She knew what she wanted to do, have a day filled with tragic romances, and doomed love. It always made her feel better somehow, and if the morbidity of watching dying teenagers falling in love couldn't remind her how much Josiah meant to her, she didn't know what would, but that was a breakup tradition, and as far as she was aware this wasn't a breakup, not yet.

Instead Candy idly flipped through show after show until she came across something decent enough to kill some time. Reruns of a cooking reality show in anticipation of the season finale, a thrilling respite she found herself enraged when with a familiar chime and television network logo filled the screen, disappearing moments later to reveal a straight laced, but urgent looking man taking center stage on the screen. Groaning she flopped over the arm of the couch and waited for it to be over. As she listened however, alarm washed over, and she sat up staring hard at the television.

"Again if you are just joining us from one of our affiliate stations this is live coverage of the Jurassic World incident. This breaking news comes as a shock as it would appear that several of the 'genetically modified' animals on the island have gotten loose and are attacking guests at the theme park. Evacua- what?" He asked brow furrowed as he pressed hard against his ear piece. "We actually have some live footage streaming in now, before we switch over to that feed I feel that I should warn you that what you are about to see is very disturbing." The man cautioned as words ticked across the bottom of the screen declaring an evacuation of the Jurassic World theme park.

Suddenly the TV went black before a livestream seemed to take over. Shaky footage filmed from behind an overturned table showed people running desperately for cover on the other side of a broken window. Hushed voices spoke in whispers as the people inside what appeared to be a restaurant tried to locate loved ones.

"Should we run?" some asked urgently.

"They'll come back for us right?"

"Oh my God!" Candy whispered to herself, with trembling fingers she felt around for her phone, unable to pry her gaze from the tv. Dialing, the phone rang, and rang, and rang before finally taking her to Josiah's voicemail. Hanging up she tried again, fear catching tight in her throat. Still no answer. Panic rising she tried Kenji. It went straight to voicemail.

Standing up her panicked energy refusing to let her sit any longer Candy found herself pacing as she tried again and again to reach Josiah. Suddenly screaming from the television caught her attention as the person filming had taken off running, something was chasing them, there was blood on the camera, then they fell, putting their hands up to shield their face they caught a winged monster with a long gory beak on camera.

It cut back to the news anchor moments too late. Hands clamped over her mouth to muffle her scream Candy sank to the floor.

"Similar videos are cropping up on various social media outlets as visiters to the island document their experiences..." the news anchor said, clearing his throat hard before he could go on. "We have been informed that evacuations of the island are underway. It is unclear at this time how such a catastrophic failure of park safety installations could have occurred, though a full investigation is expected. If you have any friends or loved ones on the island that you are unable to contact please call the number shown an screen, in addition the Red Cross is asking for immediate donations. To find out how to become a donator, or how else you can provide aid please call this number-"

Heart hammering, blinded by tears Candy had already stopped paying attention, listening in vain to the busy dial tone on the other end of the call. She felt cold with fear, this was the emergency line, how could the emergency line she was supposed to call be busy? Crouching on the floor a laugh of bitter disbelief escaped her.

Crying, she tried Kenji again. "Please," she wept in a pitiful prayer. "Please pick up! Please!"

"Hey sexy you've reached Kenji Kon, give me a-"

Hanging up the woman desperately tried again and again hoping for a different result, but never received one. Heaving as she fought against her tears Candy curled into the rug in a trembling heap. Jurassic World had been her idea. It was her fault Kenji was there. Her fault if he was dead. It was her fault.

"Oh God!" she sobbed. "Oh God please no!" she was just trying to look out for him, he was a good kid and deserved some recognition for it, she had only wanted to help. She had only wanted him to like her, to see that she wasn't the bad guy, that even if it seemed like his dad didn't, someone saw him, someone cared. Without warning the acidic, half digested backwash of lunch tore up from her stomach and out of her mouth. Gripping the fibers with both hands the thick plush carpeting in which she knelt was ruined. The woman continued to heave, the sound of her pained cries urging some of the staff to rush in with alarm.

Hands were on her back, someone was trying to sweep the hair from her face, they were trying to help, but they were all touching her, the room had already grown uncomfortably small, closing in around her, and they were touching her. Candy couldn't breathe, and pulled herself angrily away. Distantly she heard questions being poised, was she alright, did she need water, what could they do? Struggling to gather herself together for several minutes Candy waved them away. Staring through her tears, stringy hair, damp in places clinging to her face the woman gazed in horror at the television.

"This is going to ruin him." a voice murmured from the back of the room.

"Mr Kon won't let that happen." Someone else reassured.

Alone, Candy realized, she was utterly alone.

"Get out." she croaked her voice thick and raw with bile. Picking up her cell, Candy sat with her back against the coffee table and tried Josiah again, an unbroken stream of apologies flowing from her just as steady as her tears.

-New York, New York, Tuesday 3:20pm EST-

This was a disaster! Sitting at the end of a large conference table the sound of dozens of frenzied voices talking at once, phones ringing, and papers shuffling around some spilling to the ground culminated into a deafening roar, the pulse behind Xi Kon's eyes keeping tempo. The respected man remained calm however, knowing that maintaining his composure above all else was key, a grounded oasis in a storm tossed sea as everyone around him pelted on aimlessly in a frantic scurry. Paper documents, and various tablets were shoved at him for signatures and approval. He devoured the information at a glance before providing his verifications, or denials.

That was why clarity was most needed, one wrong move and the entire thing could crumble down around him. Xi had worked too long and too hard to allow that to happen. He put every ounce of energy left in him to saving his company a company that he had built from nothing through ingenuity, savvy investments, and in the beginning massive gambles with money he didn't have. The fact that they'd all paid off a testament to his shear genius and guile.

Besides, he thought leaning back in his chair, comparing figures to the lastest estimations in costs and damages, this was inevitable, in a way. And that was why there had always been a backup, he'd gotten too far by grit and the skin of his teeth alone for anything else. It's what self-made men knew, and what inheritors like Masrani could never understand. Its why Masrani Global, like Hammond's InGen before it would sink after an event like this, fading away into obscurity. But, because of what was happening here and now Kon Industries wouldn't fade, on the contrary Kon Industries would thrive.

Smirking at how well things had begun to unfold Xi marveled at the well oiled machine that was his company's reaction and all his well laid plans springing to life. Starting slow, beginning with word of the first deaths they'd begun selling stock in the park, to provide distance between themselves and the incident. When it was apparent that the situation was beyond control they liquidated so quickly the poor saps who bought it wouldn't know what was about to hit them. With the revenue however he purchased additional private properties dotted across Isla Nublar, another penthouse, two additional hotels, condos, anything that could provide grounds to sue over lost and damaged property or wages when all of this was over.

Through the thick glass walls that sperated their offices Xi could see his legal team hard at work. They were building his defenses for what fault would inevitability fall on him as an investor, the ramifications of the liquidation if he was aware of the situation on the island of which his attorneys aimed to prove plausible deniability siting a "shift in business model," and lastly they were building a strong case to sue whatever was left of Jurassic World and Masrani Global. It truly was a kill or be killed world at the top, and Xi's hands were well reddened by the competition.

The ring of his personal cellphone had been all but drowned out by the cacophony round about the man, but the near constant vibration on his leg was wearing thin on his nerves. Yanking the device out of his pocket the man rolled his eyes there were more than a dozen missed calls, each from a single number. Candy, an alarmist if ever he met me one, but, this, he thought to himself was just another eventuality. Stepping away from the conference table he called her back.

"Josiah!" she wailed, her voice ragged and tear strained.

"I'm extremely busy Candy, what do you need?" he asked hoping that an even tone would temper her hysteria.

"H-have you seen the news?" she sobbed.

"Yes, we're managing things." Xi affirmed. "You don't have to worry."

"Managing thi- Josiah?"

"Things are well at hand," the man assured waving away a peon who approached him with a stack of paper. The girl was beautiful, a wonderful conversationalist, and made him feel alive, but it was at times like this that her youth and inexperience betrayed her. "Go treat yourself to a spa day, get away from the media, try to rel-"

"Josiah!" Candy screamed on the other end of the line her voice harsh and shrill.

"Pull yourself together!" the man bellowed in response, ear ringing he found his composure eluding him. "This is a tragedy yes, but there isn't a contingency we haven't planned for. People die everyday-"

"Xi! Shut the fuck up and listen to me!" the woman yelled, Candy never used his given name. Stunned into silence he found himself staring through the translucent wall at his well paid jackels. Arm crossed definitely he waited to hear what she had to say.

"Is Kenji alright?" she practically whispered.

"Why wouldn't he be? Not everyone goes to pieces over something like-"

"He's there! Josiah, he's there!"

"No he's not! He's in the program, straighten him out a little, teach him some respect. He'll be back at the end of summer, if behavior permits." Xi said, though as the words left his mouth he felt that what he was saying wasn't exactly true. That had been the plan, send his son to reform school, get his attitude ironed out, but in the pit of his stomach he couldn't help but feel he was wrong, though he couldn't quite make the connection as to why.

"No!" Candy sobbed. "Masrani's side project? Camp Cretaceous? Remember?"

Camp Cretaceous.

The hairs on the back of Xi's neck stood on end. Eyes wide his breath caught, the world turning on its side he felt his shoulder collide with the glass. The man kept his footing, but only just as the phone slipped from his fear numbed grip and clattered to the ground.

Oh God, Xi thought, his head swimming, what is he doing? Sure it was easy to feel removed, detached even, from numbers on a spreadsheet, but these weren't meaningless statistics, these were actual people, and they were dying. Right now. And what was he doing? Sitting in a boardroom arguing finances, and profiteering from their deaths. He glanced in a stunned sense of awe at the worker bees running about, shouting into or at various devices in their haste.

Time seemed to slow, as for the first time Xi found himself an outsider looking in at the world he'd made for himself, a world where money out weighed the value of a human life. He had heard of the Indominus Rex's escape, and on a rumor alone he knew he stood to make a fortune, one built on blood money, and he relished the prospect. For all Xi knew his son was dead and he'd only been worried about his company, his money, his legacy... himself.

He was a monster.

Awash with self loathing, pressure building behind his eyes Xi let out a shuddering breath and pulling himself from the wall where he slumped, held himself tall. Calling sharply for his administrative assistant he spared a moment to collect his phone before crossing the room with long urgent strides.

"Call the airstrip, I need the jet fueled and ready. Tell them not to bother with the preflights." he commanded moving past the woman who gawked after him in confusion.

"Sir, what about-" she began.

"Did I invite a question?" he bit out turning towards her with a hard look as he barreled out of the room without so much as a word. Fists clenched he approached a pair of metallic double doors. "Tell them to have the jet ready in five minutes, is the piolet on the roof."

"For the helicopter?" the woman asked struggling to follow his reasoning. "Yes, she was waiting to take you to-"

"Very good."

"Wait, sir, where should I tell them to log the fligh-"

"Five minutes." Xi firmly declared as he stepped into the elevator, ignoring all other inquiries.

Once the doors eased shut and the man found himself alone his air of power and control dissolved. Finding himself at a loss he could neither manage to exhale the breath held fast in his lungs nor could he gulp down the air he desperately needed, a wave of crushing dizziness washing over him. Falling to his knees Xi wailed in a forlorn sob, hot tears blinding him as the elevator trekked towards the heavens.-


-RoundTop Texas, Tuesday 3:49pm CST-

Abuela Socorro, bones aching and energy all but spent from time in the kitchen, sat rocking with a slow eased rhythm in her beloved, and well worn rocker. Her husband, Amado had built it for her when she was expecting their first baby, and though, over the years it has had to be repaired many times over it remained a family treasure, having soothed the tears of each of her children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren.

Sitting in it now, with the warmth of the afternoon sun blanketed over her it was easy for Socorro to believe that here of all places Amado could still hear her. So, fingers tracing the spiraled petals of a cactus flower etched into the armrest, she whispered of all the events that had been happening of late. Speaking fondly of her little patch of flowers on the side of the house and how they'd bloomed, she told him of her excitement about the new baby soon to be in the house and how young and alive it made her feel, and explained the troubles of the ranch and many trials the family was facing because of it, but life was good. Yes, Socorro thought recalling her youth, and her affection for the man who was taken from her far too soon, life had always been good to her.

After a while the conversation turned and Socorro spoke idly of the telenovela that occupied the television in the corner as though they were watching it together. "He's no good for her Amado," she murmured, the laze of the afternoon lulling her towards a nap. "His brother, he's a good man, like you, honest, strong, no lying or cheating, no schemes. Why did she fall for his lies? Mija don't marry him! That girl! Amado can you believe it?"

Eyelids growing heavy the venerated woman's murmuring soon fell to a breathy whisper as she slowly began to nod off. Head drooping, thoughts leaving her Socorro was nearly asleep when a sudden burst from the tv jolted her awake. Glancing about nervously for the source of the sound she saw the screen filled with a bright banner bearing the network logo "¡Noticias de última hora!" written in bold lettering across the banner.

Watching for a few minutes the woman tried to piece together what the news anchor was saying. There was some type of disaster happening in Costa Rica, she gathered. With a saddened reverence Socorro crossed herself for the poor souls, asking the Virgin Mother to watch over them. As she prayed the achor woman continued, quaking images of people running, stampeding over one another in their panic, great winged bats falling upon them from the sky filled the four corners of the television. Putting her hand to her heart Socorro could scarcely believe what she was seeing before the woman said, "Mundo Jurasico, 'Jurassic World,' está evacuando inmediatamente. Para contactar amigos o seres queridos-"

"'Mundo Jurasico, Jurassic World...'" the grandmother repeated in a whisper, the words meant something to her, but her own mind seemed distant at times, the details of present fragmenting away and slipping from her grasp, while the past remained sharp and clear. "Jurassic World." she said again, strands of thought weaving together her heart ached with the terrible sharp pain. "Sammy!"

Tears coming to her eyes at once Socorro stood on uneasy legs shuffling about the living room with an urgent need to tell someone. Turning back to the television one hand over her heart, the other to her mouth she could see now what those insidious monsters were. Why had Sammy gone to that terrible place again? She couldn't remember, but it was brave, Socorro knew as much. Turning away again the woman used one hand to brace herself against the wall, fingers trailing beneath family photos as she fought the sensation that her legs were going to give out at any moment.

Peering down the hallway lined with doors and open walkways she tried calling for help but found that grief and fear had stolen her voice, causing it to emerge as little more than a treble. Turning back to the entertainment stand the woman couldn't bring herself to leave the room, afraid that she might miss her chance of catching sight of Sammy, her brave, strong Sammy. Hurrying back to where she stood, toe catching on the edge of the rug, Socorro scarcely managed to keep her footing. Trembling the grandmother braced herself on arm of the couch and watched, weeping and praying...

Shielding the blinding sunlight from her gaze Ana who, much to her dismay had been moving head about instead of going into town and to the mall with her friends kicked rocks irritably as she walked. Having well earned a break for the day she uttered silent swears about her wasted time as she moved Marble to the stables, the well tempered pinto nickering sweetly into the girl's hair as the mare followed. Hefting the saddle, from the horse's back, and taking the bridle and bit from her mouth Ana urged the horse into a stall, before turning to leave.

"Wait," Marisa said peering over Santos' stall door. "Aren't you going to rub her down?"

Rolling her eyes Ana couldn't surpress the condescending smile that played across her lips as she ignored her sister. No, she wasn't, and one day wouldn't hurt the dumb horse anyways. Making her way back towards the house the girl checked her watch and wondered if Lauren or Valeria could still convince someone to come get her if she showered and got ready fast enough.

Picking at the dirt that had collected beneath her nails Ana brooded. Resentful of having to work through parts of her summer vacation, and of having to tow around her less than popular twin when she wasn't Ana wished her family could be more like friends'. Sure, most everyone at school had something to do with livestock in one way or another, except for the townies but they had a sense of superiority and kept to themselves anyways, but still, none of her friends had to work their farms or ranches, that was what hands, and seasonal workers were for.

Taking off her hat as she approached the sprawling wrap around porch the fourteen year old tousled her sweaty pixie cut, and stomped the clinging muck from her boots against the wooden floorboards as she walked across them to the front door. Once there Ana stood dusting her pants before kicking off her boots and walking into the blessed air conditioning. Standing just inside, eyes closed she relished the blasting chill on her face, tugging her shirt away from where it clung to her chest and allowing the comfort to wash over her.

"I'm going to take a shower." she announced to anyone who might be around, though as she walked past the living room sight of her grandmother crying caught her attention, "Abuela?" she asked nervously as the old woman turned to her speechless with tears and gestured towards the tv.

Tentatively approaching her Ana looked at the device, brows knit as she tried to reason through her grandma's alarm. The reporter was speaking quickly and urgently, words darted across the screen, a map cropped up showing a chain of islands just off the coast of Costa Rica.

Jurassic World was being evacuted, why? Ana wondered, her heart skipping a beat. She was sure that Sammy was alright, but it was the why that concerned her. Settling into a comfortable position on the floor by her abuela she watched, and waited. A hurricane perhaps? She wondered before at the sight of a shaky terror filled video, a shock of fear electrified her spine. Sammy! The unexpected scream that ripped itself from the girl's throat was laced with a tangible fear that echoed throughout the house. Her abuela grabbed onto her tightly, her thin, spindly arms encompassing Ana with an embrace that both comforted and reassured her that she was not alone, as stomach in terrible knots the two huddled together on the floor...

Marisa, who, irate with her twin had been hot in her heels to give Ana a piece of her mind had heard the sound of screaming came bolting in. Eyes wide and frightened, fear conjured vile images in her head that her grandmother had passed, or that their mother had fallen and was in a bad way. Instead, she found herself taken aback by the sight of her sister and abuela huddled together on the ground clinging to one another in desperation. Perplexed she turned from them to the television and watched the events on screen a stunned sense of disbelief.

This wasn't real, she thought, it couldn't be happening. Even as her mom, hand pressed hard against her round stomach rushed in from down the hall to see what the matter was it didn't quite feel like she was even awake, a hazed, dreamlike quality encompassing the room, everything happening in slow motion. This was all just a terrible nightmare, she was going to wake up any minute now, and everything would be alright, Marisa assured herself.

It wasn't real. It's just wasn't, it couldn't be.

Then a thought occured to her and, with slow disjointed movements the girl fished her cell from her pocket and tried to call Sammy. Still in a dazed state of shock, her back leaned against a memorabilia cluttered wall Marisa waited with an absurd patience and disconnected calm as the phone chimed it's attempts to connect in her ear. It went to voicemail. The bright flare of annoyance in her chest quickly gave way to anxiety, as the sound of her sister's voice recording made the direness of the situation finally sink in.

This was real, this was happening, people were dying and her big sister was right in the middle of it.

Watching through a teary veil as a winged dinosaur flew off with a frightened person in tow the girl's stomach summersaulted, goosebumps racing up and down her body. It could have been her. It should have been her, Marisa thought the dreadful realization overwhelming. The guy from Mantah Corp had approached her, spoken with her about the offer first, not Sammy. It should have been her, there on that island ravaged by chaos and death.

Watching with uncertainty her fear was quickly tainted with a condemning feeling of relief, relief to be here, to be home, to be safe. That relief soon eroded the young woman's soul with a self loathing and despise, knowing that whatever was happening to Sammy could have happened to her, but wasn't.

This macabre knowledge dealt Marisa guilt and shame in spades. She was grateful to be alive, but did that mean she valued her own life more than Sammy? She a bad sister, a bad person, it should have been her! It should have! She should be the one to die not Sa-

A little cry escaped the teen at the vulger idea. Sammy wasn't dead! They didn't know that, they didn't know anything yet! Frantically she tried calling again though her resolve was beginning to fade beneath the self hatred that scorched her heart.

Listening to the dull ring of the call that was failing to connect she turned to her mother with wide watery eyes she managed to croak a single question. "Mom, what do we do?" she asked...

Her brow covered with sweat Rosa leaned against the doorway that opened up into the dining area, staring hard at the tv. Then, cutting through the chill of her fear it happened; rolling from her ribcage all the way down to her pelvic floor a contraction she had been laying in bed trying to convince herself was just Braxton Hicks doubled her over. This wasn't her first baby, not by a long shot, the woman knew she'd been lying to herself, but she also knew that labor took hours and she hadn't wanted to go to the hospital just yet. A spasm ran through Rosa's lower back and thighs, her muscles already weary and agitated, protesting as she straightened herself back up to address her family.

"I don't know." she said, the passage of the immense pain gave her a brief lens of clarity as she took command of the situation. She had to rally them, the woman recognized, to quell their fears even as she was drowning in her own, and she needed her husband. Seeing the harrowing look on Marisa's face as she tried to gather her thoughts Rosa opened her arms and motioned the girl over.

"I'm sorry!" Marisa sobbed barreling into her chest, knocking her mother off balance. Choking back her own grief Rosa smoothed a hand over the girl's hair, hushing her tears, and whispering words of love and comfort.

"No mama, you don't understand!" Marisa wailed. "It should have been me! It should have been me, but it wasn't! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm a terrible person! I'm sorry! Is she going to be alright?"

Her eyes fluttering closed Rosa took a deep breath to compose herself before she dared try to find the right words. "You are not a terrible person mija. You love your sister yes?" Rosa asked willing herself to remain strong and level headed for her children.

"Yes." Marisa nodded.

"And you want her to be safe more than anything?" Rosa went on evenly.

"Yes." Marisa began to sob before Rosa touched her fingers to the girl's lips promoting her to reign her volume.

"Then," Rosa said measuring the girl with her gaze. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Rosa managed a weak smile, though her heart bled for her daughters even as a confused Georgia tapped her hurriedly on the leg, wanting to know what all the commotion was.

"Is she going to be ok?" Ana cried to Rosa from across the room.

At a loss as to what to do, and finding that she could only cling to Marisa and try and assure the her that she had done nothing wrong, Rosa wasn't sure what other comforts she had left to provide. "I don't know." she whispered, eyes filling with tears.

Steeling herself after a moment Rosa pulled away from her child wiping a hand affectionately down the side of the girl's face. "Marisa, baby, I need you to go get your father." she instructed. "Please." she added firmly, holding onto Marisa's shoulders when it seemed like she would argue.

Nodding the frightened girl took off at a run. Watching her go Rosa felt herself beginning to crumble, as the dire news continued to filter in. Her baby was out there all alone, scared, maybe even hurt, maybe even- The thought nearly brought Rosa to her knees. Not her little Sammy no her baby, please God not her baby! She begged.

Warm memories of her eldest trickled in as another contraction wracked Rosa's body: watching her first steps, hearing her first words, the pride of seeing her compete in her first steer roping, all of it paleing campared to the joyful exhaustion of holding her for the first time and hope filled plans for where the little life Rosa had created would lead, and then meeting her daughter for the first time again, as the trembling little girl called "Samuel" stood in a living room, bearing her soul to the family, and asking to be seen. Rosa had loved every inch of that girl since the day she had been born, and nothing could have changed that, even when Rosa's well intended plans for her child would inevitability separate from their truest path.

Now, now Sammy was so far away, so helpless, so alone, and so beyond Rosa's ability to protect. At the sight of dead bodies trampled underfoot by frightened and fleeing tourists the woman's resolve finally broke. Holding Georgia to her she rocked the little one for whose questions she had no answers, only tears...

Sun hot on his face Abryan felt the ticklish trickle of beaded sweat flowing down his back as he stood, sack of feed on his shoulder. He had volunteered to stay through the summer while his brothers went home, so that he could help out in Sammy's absence. Contrary to what he had believe his father had been proud of his decision, and now seeing the incompetence of some of the hired hands Abryan was too. In the midst of transferring the hefty sacks of grain from where they were delivered to where they were to be stored he caught sight of his cousin Marisa tearing off towards the stables. Concerned he watched her disappear inside only to come thundering out on an unsaddled Santos moments later calling for the animal to go faster.

The boy's heart skipped a beat, tia Rosa, the baby!

Tossing the sack aside the boy bolted for the house, blood pumping, legs churning. Out of breath by the time he burst through the front door which had been left ajar he spotted his aunt crouched on the floor at the back of the living room, a worried Georgia hugging onto her to make it better. Tunnel vision obscuring his vision Abryan tripped over something in his haste to reach her, turning back he realized that the something had been Ana's foot.

"What?" he spat, failing to understand what was happening. Blood roaring in his head Abryan grabbed onto his aunt by the shoulders trying to assess the situation, his stomach knotted. He'd pulled calves from their mothers loads of times, but oh God he wasn't ready for this, he hoped Marisa got to her father in time.

"Tia, tia what do I do? How can I help?" the boy asked urgency causing cracks in his voice.

Looking up at him the woman who was crying in great heartbroken sobs reached up and grabbed onto him, pulling him into an embrace as she wept. What was happening? The teen asked himself in alarm, craning to look around the room at the others.

"Ana, Ana we have to get your mom to the van!" he shouted, but to no avail. Then he saw the blood red words scrolling across the television and his heart sank. "Sam." he whispered the panic fading from him to be replaced by despair.

"What's going on?" Georgia pleaded with unease, her eyes welling.

Turning in his aunt's grip Abryan scooped her into a hug. "We're all just a little sad, because we miss Sammy." he said voice hoarse. At this children's explanation tia Rosa let out and wrenching sob, and clung to the two of them uncomfortably tight. Abryan wanted to tell Georgia that it was all going to be alright, but he couldn't find the words. Instead he kissed the top of her head and listened to the broadcast a shudder overtaking him...

He was pushing Santos hard, Cristián thought, noting the change in the horse's respiration, a white foam of sweat collecting along the sleek black of the animal's neck and along his flanks. Still, the man spurred him on, Marisa clinging to his waist for dear life. He had been seeing to maintaining the fencing along the perimeter of his land after a few heifers had gotten loose, when Marisa had reached him. She was frantic and out of breath, the only words she'd manage to eke out we're, "Come quick, it's Sammy!"

Still, no matter how hard he was pushing Santos Cristián's mind raced faster.

Blood roaring in his ears and creating dark orbs in the peripherals of his vision the man silently cursed and condemned the insidious Mantah Corp who had sent his daughter to do their dirty work, and blinking hard against the rushing wind, teeth grit, Cristián damned himself wholly for his involvement with them, his heart arryhthmic with fear.

Mantah Corp aren't the kind of people you mess with, he'd gotten his family mixed up in something big, something dangerous out of desperation and necessity, and now, now his little girl was caught in the middle of a war. Trying to force his mind away from the dread inducing thoughts of what the corporation might do in retribution if Sammy was caught wading through their corporate espionage, knowledge of how the justice system would handle the sixteen year old roared to life in the back of his mind, a rushing tide that threatened to swallow him under the waves and there drown him.

Felony larceny, Cristián had done his research in the quiet hours of the early mornings so as not to disturb or alarm his wife. He was sure there could be other crimes tacked on if ever Sammy was arrested, but at it's base with a five to twenty year minimum, and the civil crime of conversion which would come with a fine in the millions, his little girl was throwing her life away for his mistakes. His stomach knotted sharply, and she'd have to pay for them in a men's prison. He knew the kinds of things that happened to women and girls like Sammy when they were sent to prison, the degradation and abuse, the systemic alienation from basic human rights, and protection, at the mercy of not only fellow inmates but amoral guards, empty caricatures of the law and order they were meant to represent.

Hands shaking in spite of his ironclad grip on the reigns, Cristián struggled not to let himself imagine the worst, while made sick by the knowledge that it was all because of him... This was all his fault.

Abandoning the horse whose sides heaved, and stomach wretched the man burst into the house eyes wide, face pale. "Where's Sammy? Who has her?" he bellowed staring anxiously at his collection of family members huddled together in the living room. "What happened?" he shouted when, for a moment no one could provide him any answers.

"Tio," Abryan alarm awash on his face called to him for where he knelt holding up his aunt who had a vice like grip on the boy's shoulder. "The park, it- the- the dinosaurs..."

Cristián took the scene in, in one horrid instance, catching himself on the armchair. He thought he had braced himself for the worst. He was wrong.

This wasn't something he could fight against, there was no argument of coercion, desperation, or duress that could be made to lessen or dissolve Sammy of her crimes. He couldn't appeal to the court to punish him in her stead. In shock Cristián realized that there was absolutely nothing he could do for his daughter, nothing except watch, and pray, and wait... And that wasn't good enough.

From behind him Rosa gave a whimper, one she was trying to surpress. "Oh God!" Abryan shrieked, failing to maintain his composure.

A marionette on strings Cristián turned towards his wife, and the slowly growing puddle she sat in. The baby was coming. The simple fact was a problem with a clear solution, one that the man could quickly remedy, yet for an instant he failed to register what that was, until the words came tumbling from his lips.

"Abryan, drive your tia to the hospital." he murmured distantly.

"What?" the boy gasped. "I-I can't drive I only have my permit!"

"Just do what I'm asking you to!" Cristián shouted, heart beginning to race angrily, pressure mounting in his head and behind his eyes.

Abryan seemed to hesitate, an argument forming on his lips when Rosa doubled over with a scream. Cristián had crossed the room in an instant, grabbed the boy by the arm and hauled him to his feet, aggressively shoving him towards the door before he realized what he had done he was screaming and swearing at the teen who looked at him with fear and uncertainty. The women in the room began shouting.

"Enough!" the man yelled when their voices shrill with worry drown out his very thoughts. "Marisa, Ana, get your mother to the van." he ordered before turning to his mother-in-law, and helping her stand. "Rosa needs you too." he muttered.

"Cristián what are you doing?" Rosa asked as the girls led her over.

"Everything's going to be alright." the man promised tearily. "I'm staying here, everything's going to be alright."

"No, Cristián, come with me!" the laboring woman begged. "I need you!"

Her words stung and left a bitter sensation in his soul, no one needed him. Cristián shook his head, "I love you." he said kissing first his wife, then his daughters on their sweat covered brows.

Loading his family into the vehicle Cristián found himself arguing once more that he would be staying behind before giving his nephew a nod, one that was apprehensively returned before the van slowly pulled away. Cristián watched them go, plumes of dust kicking up in their wake, his heart broken beyond repair. The tide of despair he had been fighting since Sammy had gone consuming him, Cristián found it impossible to breathe as he shuffled back inside and towards the gruesome scene on the television.

It was all his fault, he thought blearily as the broadcast continued with it's urgent coverage, new information seemed to spill in constantly, while at the same time nothing could be inferred, what was stated as fact only moments before quickly redacted in exchange for contrary information. Choking on a pent breath the man couldn't fight the overwhelming fear thay his baby girl was dead. She was dead, and it's all his fault.

All his fault.

The ranch had suffered some setbacks, he'd had to make certain deals, but even then.

Even then.

They could have managed, they would have been fine.

Loans, debt, stringent payment schedules, they could have, would have been fine, even with his failed investments.

It was him, he thought bitterly, it was his fault that the family had been put in this situation, that Sammy had felt the need to take it upon herself to risk everything to save them. It was his fault that she was there in Hell on Earth. All his fault, for gambling away their money, his fault for losing that money faster than he could make it to strangers on the internet, his fault for chasing that high of winning and success, his fault for finding anyway he could to feed that addiction, for getting in bed with Mantah Corp. His fault.

Sammy shouldn't have to die for his mistakes! He thought crumpling to the ground fingers laced tightly through his hair as Cristián let out a wail.

He was a fuck up, and they'd all be better off without him. This wasn't the first time he'd thought as much, the notion coming and going for the better part of a year, now, now it seemed to be all he could think about, while he worked, as he ate, it woke him from his sleep with somber tears: the thought of how much better his family would be without him.

Cristián thought briefly of the child that was about to be born, a warmth and longing filling him.

No, it would be better if they never knew him.

Sammy shouldn't have to die for his mistakes.

Maybe, maybe they could salvage something from his life insurance policy, a bittersweet hope lanced through the darkness.

Minutes that felt like hours ticked by as he curled on the floor rocking back and forth the salty taste of tears and mucus on his tongue.

Sammy shouldn't have to die for his mistakes.

He couldn't imagine how frightened she was in that moment, so far from home.

It was all his fault.

They were better off without him.

Getting up Cristián felt a hollow disconnect from his body and surroundings as he trudged to the bedroom, fingers deft on the rotary lock of the gun safe.

Sammy shouldn't have to die for his mistakes.

He loved them too much to see the look on their faces when they lost everything.

It was all his fault.

They were better off without him.

He loved them so much it hurt.

He was sorry.

It was all his fault.

Sammy was dead.

It was all his fault.

Better off without him.

The metal was cool, and weight familiar in his hand.

He loved them so much.

He was sorry.

Sammy was dead.

It was all his fault.

He was scared.

Sorry.

Sammy.

His fault.

Sorry.

Sammy.

Better without.

Scared.

Sorry.

Sammy.

Love them.

His fault.

Sorry.

Scared.

Sorry.

Love.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Samm-


-Boston Massachusetts, Tuesday 5:49pm EST-

Nika rolled over in bed, the soft luxurious feel of silk tickling across her skin as it slid over her naked form. The room was muted, and dimly lit, curtains drawn to a close, shielding the room's occupants for the gentle glow of a soon to be setting sun. Hushed save for the slight rustle of bedding, and the eased breathing of her wife beside her all was still and well with the world. As the woman's awareness of both self and surroundings crept in, the more Nika cherished sensation of warm bodies laying so near to one another. Inching closer she ran her feet along the smooth skin of Candice's legs until their limbs were perfectly entangled and she pulled the other woman to spoon, her lips brushing against the nape of her wife's neck. Bliss.

Nika was glad that they had taken some time off just for themselves while Brooklynn was away. Like any mother she missed having her little Wookie around, and worried about her, Nika hoped that she was having fun, not working too hard or obsessing over her veiwers, and that the other kids were being kind and could see the sensitive little girl beneath all the bravado and charisma. It was also a much different feeling from when Brooklynn was staying with Emily and Cameron, even when abroad. Nika didn't feel like she could just call Brooklynn all willy-nilly just to chat, afraid she'd ruin a shoot or interrupt a lesson, so she had to wait for Brooklynn to call her, but it was still nice for her to be away. Nika hugged Candice closer, very nice.

Counting herself truly blessed, as she lay in reflective musings about her life. Nika couldn't help but ponder how long had she walked through a dark ever night, depressed and alone before meeting Candice? Too long. She wished they'd met sooner, she was the light of her life, her sun, but then again that made Brookie her moon, and Nika privileged and honored merely to bask in their glow, her life well worth living if only to have them in it.

She was getting poetic and sentimental. Didn't she always tell her students to look for true to life inspiration for their writings? Nika let out a snort of laughter, before burying her face into Candice's bob willing the giggles away. Perhaps if she spent a little more time practicing what she preached the woman would have enough of a collection to actually try and get her poems published! It was alright, que sera sera.

Besides, the past week or so had been like the honeymoon they'd never had a chance to take, the spontaneous dinners, the late night talks that turned into midmorning musings, the cake batter food fight, getting to know one another all over again as if they were meeting for the first time, and the sex, the mind blowing, earth shattering, soul leaving your body for the fields of Elysium sex!

Smirking the woman nibbled her lower lip, yeah, it was one hell of a make up honeymoon. Then there was today staying in bed, sleeping, all responsibilities and cares shelves for the day making her feel like a teenager again. But, now much like a teenager she was getting hungry, her stomach rumbling with malcontent. Pizza sounded next to divine at the moment, akin to ambrosia, even.

A mischievousness coming over her Nika giggled as her hands moved across Candice's stomach. Her long acrilic nails dancing across the other woman's skin, tracing a slow circle around Candice's navel. Her wife's abdomen clenched tightly at the ticklish sensation, grinning Nika continued to gently claw the tender skin.

"Stop!" Candice gasped breathily, rolling away. "Stop, stop, stop!"

Nika laughed when Candice turned to face her assailant, her "morning breath" wafting over Nika, making her wrinkle her nose. The woman hated that she loved her morning breath, honestly what was wrong with her?

"What do you want?" Candice grumbled trying her best to sound dejected, blankets held to her mouth to hide the smile.

"I'm hungry." Nika shrugged.

"And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?" Candice went on brow arching.

"Feed me." Nika said clicking her tongue thoughtfully.

"Uh how about no?" Candice asked trying her best to hide her expression.

"Um how about-" without warning Nika launched a tickle attack, one her wife was quick to combat. Soon the two were tumbling about the bed in a frenzy of manic laughter and mirth.

The battle was fierce but short lived with Candice rolling off the bed in defeat. "I give, I give!" she exclaimed hands held high in the air as she walked towards the bathroom.

"Pizza?" the victor chirped cheerfully, watching her walk away with appreciation.

"You know what I like." Candice yawned from the bathroom a few minutes later.

Flipping around in bed Nika grabbed her cell from the nightstand and turned it on, leg bouncing to the chime as it booted. She didn't have to pee until she heard Candice going, now she really, really had to, but as in all aspects of life pizza came first. Almost immediately her phone began to vibrate angrily with missed call after missed call, dozens of voice messages, and texts streaming in. What the hell? she wondered heart skipping a beat, the phone had only been off for a few hours, what was going on?

"Hey, babe check your phone, mines blowing up." the woman murmured scrolling through a seemingly endless list of names and numbers.

"Who from?" Candice asked blearily.

"Everyone..." Nika muttered her heart beginning to race. "Emily, my parents, Cam, Marta... Dozens of calls from each of them!"

Emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a robe Candice asked, "Marta called you?"

Nika nodded, she didn't have the best relationship with their school's principal, but seeing her cell listed among the missed calls gave both women cause for alarm. Pressing the device to her ear Nika waited nervously for her mom to answer, while Candice turned her own phone on.

"Of course she's not going to answer!" Nika snapped irritably when the call went to voicemail. Hanging up she tried her dad to the same result.

"Nika," Candice whispered fearfully, thumbing through her texts. "It's Brooklynn, something's wrong with Brooklynn."

"I'm trying Emily!" Nika declared beginning to pace, stomach acid scorching her throat, a dull ache in her chest.

"Nika!" Emily's voice came bursting into the other woman's ear, her head ringing with volume.

"Emily?"

"Is-Is Brooklynn alright? Have you heard from her?" Emily asked in a voice torn rush, the strain of crying clear in her speech. "C-Camp Cretaceous, was it in the evacuation zone?"

"Emily, Emily slow down! What the hell are you talking about?" Nika demanded to know, watching with knit brows as Candice seemed to connect with her ex husband in the same moment.

"You don't know?" Emily gasped, trying to articulate the words proved too difficult as the other woman began sputtering and crying in response.

Heart in her throat Nika snapped, "Just spit it the fuck out! What happened to my daughter?" On the other side of the room Candice buckled at the knee and collapsed onto the floor with a scream. "Emily!" Nika shrieked, crying now with fear and the terrible dread of uncertainty.

"The dinosaurs," Emily whispered. "The dinosaurs escaped, they're trying to evaluate the island-"

Nika dropped the phone which bounded off the ground, screen shattered, her hands cold and numb with shock. Her baby, her Brookie-Wookie, dinosaurs, escaped- the world lurched beneath the woman's feet, she felt as though she was dying, blinded by tears she knew she was dying. Then she saw her wife, fetal on the floor, and she swallowed her doubts, and fear, and moved to kneel beside her.

"Candice," she said hoarsely. "Candice, it's going to be alright... She's going to alright." Nika assured, rubbing slow circles into her wife's back.

"How do you know?" Candice wailed turning towards her. "How do you know?"

Nika took a chilled breath before trembling answered, "I don't know."

Wincing against Candice's nails that bit into her bear skin, Nika held onto her and they rocked back and forth in their shared pain and grief. She didn't know, how could she? Nika thought bitterly, but she had hope, for what it was worth, letting out a scream the woman couldn't fight the overpowering terror that her nights would forever more be moonless.

-Galway, Ireland, Wednesday 11:38am WET-

"Galway, a harbour city on Ireland's west coast sits nestled serenely where the River Corrib meets the Atlantic Ocean. Known for its vibrant street theatre, fantastic food, film, and fringe festivities; stone-clad cafes, boutiques and art galleries also line the winding lanes of the Latin Quarter which retains portions of medieval city walls. Galway has more than earned its colorful and lively stripes when it comes to putting on a show, and is a must see stop on any tourist's schedule!" And there, in Galway, sitting on the end of a hastily made bed, Cameron Meyers found himself utterly alone, his senseless plush words floating around in his own head, while on the television blood and terror reigned, and his ex wife, the mother of his child's lamenting screams echoed in his ear where his phone was firmly pressed.

Halfway around the world, he thought numbly, my daughter is trapped halfway around the world with man eating dinosaurs and there's nothing I can do to help her. Cam sat removed from himself for several minutes, until with a disjointed sense of realization the man slowly lowered the phone and disconnected the call. He didn't want to hear that anymore. Instead he sat watching, but failing to absorb the information streaming towards him from the television.

Moments past and he found that he couldn't feel anything. Hollow and desolate he had never before been so aware of his insignificance within the cosmos as he watched the same muted, brief, and shaky footage of people crammed together packed like sardines in the park's center when winged blurs fell from the the sky and panic set in. Death had never felt more near or certain, and his daughter was there. His mind refused to dwell on that fact the immense weight of consciousness and existential awareness, and searched for a means of escape.

Glancing about Cameron realized that he was surrounded by luggage; suitcases standing open, duffle bags overturned, and piles of folded laundry. He hadn't finished packing yet. He should finish packing, he thought, comforted by the monotony of the task.

Standing the man continued to fold his movements measured and meticulous, folding his attire with a crisp edge, and neatly organizing them the way he liked best. A place for everything and everything in its place. After years of traveling, writing reviews, brochures, and guides he'd become quite adept at the art of packing, and very fond of that motto.

Moving with the same automation and militaristic precision the man retrieved his suit jacket from the closet, smoothed out the creases and packed it away as well. He would be leaving soon, heading home, the thought sent a shudder through the man. He had, had the news on so that he could hear of any weather reports or flight delays, but that had proven fruitless. Peering out of the corner of his eye he batted back tears. Lips pursed Cameron let out a slow wavering breath, the sheer horror and helplessness of the situation overwhelming.

For what felt like eons he hadn't been able to get ahold of anyone, then when finally he had reached Em she was beside herself. So too was Candice. Now trapped inside his own head, the dire isolation of his own thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with him? Why he felt so removed from what was happening to his daughter, his family? Why couldn't he cry? Why wasn't he going to pieces? Did he maybe love Brooklynn less?

The thought lanced his soul, and like that it all came crushing down around him, and Cameron found his tears.

Fumbling through the blankets he sought out his phone, only to remember it was in his pocket. Struggling against himself he called Emily. He couldn't do this, Cameron thought, he couldn't do this alone.

"Emily I'm scared!" he whispered, his voice wavering like a frightened child. "I'm so scared!"

The moment the words tumbled from his lips Cam regretting speaking them. He felt an invisible bearer being erected within, he was the man, he wasn't supposed to be doing this, he was supposed to be the strong one. Swallowing hard Cameron braced himself for another bout of hysterics from Emily and he was determined to be the foundation she needed of him. Then it clicked, that was why, it wasn't because he cared less, but because he couldn't care more, he wasn't supposed to, wasn't allowed. Consciously now, he tried to push his own emotions away to care for Emily, she was pregnant, and alone, and that was his job.

"I know," Emily mumbled clearly just as broken as her partner before she took a deep breath and pressed on. "It's ok, I'm here for you."

Taken aback the man was stunned into silence until she repeated the phrase. The levee's broke suddenly at the simple acknowledgement of his grief, and permission for him to express it. Pacing back and forth Cameron spoke emphatically through his tears hand cutting through the air as he wailed out his sorrow, and confusion, and rage. His little globe trotter was out there somewhere, and there was nothing he could do about it, he'd never felt vulnerability like this before and if frightened him.

After several minutes the man's voice was raw and ragged, Emily was crying now too and in the silent wake of everything that was still left to be said Cameron crawled into bed throwing the covers over his himself with superstition, as though the blankets could protect him from the monster that was reality.

"I'm scared," he whispered to his girlfriend. "I'm scared, I'm so scared!"

"I know," Emily whimpered in response. "Me too..."

-Boston, Massachusetts, Tuesday 6:23pm EST-

Candice had fallen, struggling on weak legs as she trudged into the living room the vile news streaming in a melancholic cacophony of death and destruction, the dull ache in her knees and palms distant and misplaced. Candice eyes swollen and red rimmed the woman found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the scene as she lifted the phone to her ear once more. No answer. Hang up. Call again. No answer. Hang up. Call again. No answer. Hang up. Call again. The woman battling against shock repeated the process over and over, her mind numb and body acting on autopilot while her wife sat beside her frantically typing away on her laptop.

"I've checked everything, her Facebook, Youtube, Insta, Snap, Tiktok, nothing, there's nothing!" Nika fretted, jostling the computer in frustration. "Her last update was about some big scoop, then radio silence! Candice? Candice?"

The feeling of Nika's hand on her arm startled the distraught mother who stared down at the beautiful mocha fingers looped gently about her wrist without recognition, before she glanced up lip quivering pitifully. "What?" she asked her voice, and understanding failing her.

Candice watched Nika's face contort briefly, lips pressed tight, eyes fluttering against tears. "What's the news saying?" the woman whose shirt sagged over her shoulder asked as though she hoped for a better outcome through that avenue.

"They're evacuating, people are dying, they don't know how this happened..." Candice muttered her voice trailing off as the camera panned over the same idealistic landscape that Brooklynn had been so eager to capture, thick indomitable canopies under which lurked many dangers and mysteries she had intended to solve.

The anchor was talking about the history of the island, images of John Hammond and Simon Masrani came up, with quotes beneath their pictures. It felt like a very indifferent thing to do, and Candice couldn't wrap her mind around why they were discussing such trivial things. Did any of this really matter? she wondered, curling into her wife's side as they played soundbites from Doctors Ellie Sattler, and Alan Grant discussing their experiences on the first island. None of that mattered right now, that was in the past, all that mattered what was happening at that exact moment and how they were going to save her little girl.

A rhythmic thrumming of hope ignited in Candice's chest when the scene changed, maybe they had something to report, maybe it was good news?

Suddenly the scene before them began to play out as a crew chased a man clad in black and a rushing down an open air corridor on some college campus, a cane heavily relied upon for his limp. "No comment." he shouted over his shoulder. "No comment!"

Fire burned brightly in Candice's stomach as she sat higher the hairs on the nape of her neck standing on edge, who was this man, and was he responsible for what was happening? Hatered bloomed in her chest until the interviewer called their elusive target by name, "Dr Malcolm, what can you tell us about the current Jurassic World crisis?"

"No comment, God damnit!" the man shouted.

"Dr Malcolm!" they tried again. "Can you at least tell us what the probability of-"

"Look," the man said turning haggard faced to the camera. "This was inevitable, it always was, and I like the Oracle of Delphi grow weary of predictions and prophecies left unheeded. Now if you'll excuse me I have a class to teach."

The cold unnerving feeling that crept over the woman was soon blown away by the sound of her daughter's voice. "Brooklynn?" she screamed clamoring over Nika to the laptop, shoving her face towards the screen. "Baby it's mom- it's-" It was a recording. Pink haired and vivacious Brooklynn bounced her eyebrows at the camera, informing all of her Brooklanders of the biggest scoop of all time, but that they would have to wait until tomorrow. It was recorded last night.

"I'm sorry," Nika sobbed, a hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to hear her voice- I just-"

Candice sagged into the couch the nervous, trembling form of Skittles tip-toeing over her lap as both women began to cry again. Video, after video, post after post the forlorn pair browsed through their daughter's media career fond memories turned bitter by the situation they couldn't stop themselves once they'd gotten started.

"Do you remember that?" Candice asked with a half smile.

"Yeah," Nika laughed. "She broke my goddamn microwave and nearly burnt down the apartment!"

Candice laughed, "I had no idea what I'd walked into either, groceries in hand smoke and burnt plastic in the air!"

"She's a good kid though." Nika smiled fondly.

"Yes she is."

Clicking on the next video it was of an adventure Brooklynn had at her dad's house, eating gross foods from around the world, durian, canned pickled fish, insects, and the like. Candice's stomach knotted, there was a reason she couldn't do crap like that at their house. "Next video, next video!" she whimpered burying her face into Nika's shoulder.

"Oh my God." Nika responded in shock.

"What?" Candice asked heart racing as she turned towards the television in alarm. Nothing seemed to have changed, it was just the same tragic scenes played over and over with commentary and conjecture from the news crew. Both a welcome relief from the horror, and a blow to the heart for want of something hopeful Candice didn't understand the other woman's sudden upset.

"Emily, Cams out of town, she's all alone." Nika explained. "We've been here together but she's been dealing with this all alone..." Candice felt her brows knit as her wife seemed to ponder the scenario. "We've got to go get her. We can't just leave her there."

"What?" Candice snapped, teeth on edge. She cared for Emily just as much as Nika, she was one of Brooklynn's parents after all, but she couldn't fight the feelings of anger at the thought of leaving everything behind to drive across town and pick her up. "We can't leave what if they find something out? What of something happens?" she demanded to know, blood pressure rising.

Nika seemed to consider this for a moment before leaning over and giving Candice's forehead a peck, "It'll be ok, I love you baby, you can stay here and keep me up to date. I'll be right back, but I can't just leave her like that."

Watching with stunned disbelief as Nika wiped the tears from her face and began hunting around for her purse and her keys Candice found herself agape. "What the actual fuck?" she bellowed, feeling as though her wife was abandoning her in her greatest time of need.

Shocked Nika turned back, "Excuse me?"

"What the fuck? So you're just going to leave me here and go get Emily?" Candice shouted leaping to her feet.

"Yes, I am. She's family, and she's alone." Nika explained.

"Oh so she can't be alone but you're going to walk out on me?" Candice laughed bitterly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no one is walking out on anyone." Nika said trying to clarify. "And you're more than welcome to come with me if you'd like."

The sheer disregard for her feelings, and the life of her daughter sharp and metallic on her tongue, the words that left Candice's mouth next were as wounding as knives, "I'm going to stay here and watch the news for an update about my daughter, but sure, you go ahead and get Emily. I know this doesn't mean as much to you as it does to me. That you don't really care about Brooklynn because she's not really your daughter! It's fine. Go!"

Candice watched as her wife caught herself if only just on the countertop, and couldn't help but think that she was overplaying the part. Candice felt vindicated by what she had said even as Nika's tears began to fall. "I know this isn't you," Nika's voice wavered. "So I'm going to try my best not to be mad about it later, but it's going to be real, real hard."

Without another word the woman gathered her things and stalked angrily towards the front door, but thinking better of it paused to turn back to Candice with a love fueled hate in her eyes, "And Candice, Brooklynn is my baby too, and if you ever say anything like that again it's over."

The apartment echoed with the slammed door, Candice stood and stared at it's blank wooden face for several minutes waiting for Nika to realize that she was wrong, to come back, to apologize, to hold her and make it all better. When that didn't happen the woman realized just how alone, and afraid she really was, and how angry. She was so angry, at the park owners, at Nika, at God. She felt unraveled, and a flame, she wanted, needed someone to blame, someone to hate. Really, though it was herself, it was only ever herself... she'd given Brooklynn permission to go... if it was anyone's fault, it was hers...

Oh God she was so scared!