After studying the strange script and symbols in the hideout for a while, Max began to feel too cold and exhausted to stay any longer.
"Chloe, I need to get home. I need my camera to get some pictures of this. I can't do anything more right now."
Chloe nodded. "Yeah, I figured. Let's get you back to Blackwell. It's midnight anyway."
Outside, a soft flurry of snow had begun to fall—thin specks of white drifting lazily through the air. It looked peaceful, but Max felt its bite. The cold had seeped under her skin, wrapping her in a quiet kind of dread.
They drove away from the junkyard, leaving the remnants of the night behind them, but the snow followed, swirling relentlessly around the car. The warmth inside should have comforted Max, but instead, it made her feel smaller. She watched the snowflakes spiral in the headlights and let her eyelids droop, but the cold had already settled deep inside her bones. She needed to get home, to her room, and her bed, or she might never get warm again.
"Chloe… are we there yet?"
Chloe kept her gaze fixed on the road. "Almost."
Before Max could respond, a sharp wail pierced the quiet.
"Shit," Chloe muttered, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. Flashing blue lights were closing in fast. "I knew this was too easy."
Max jolted awake, heart pounding. "What's happening?"
Chloe's voice tightened. "The fucking badge brigade. Hold on."
She stomped on the gas, and the tires screamed in protest as they spun on the ice. For a moment, the car fishtailed wildly, and Max's heart dropped—we're going to crash—but then the tires caught, and the car lurched forward with a deafening roar. Max's hands dug into the seat, her knuckles white as the world outside blurred past—dark trees looming, and snow swirling like ghosts in the headlights.
Her breath came in short, frantic gasps. Why can't I breathe?
"Chloe, slow down!"
But Chloe didn't hear. She was fully occupied with keeping the car from skidding off the road, the muscle car's engine roaring.
"You can't outrun them, Chloe!" Max's voice cracked, panic rising in her throat.
"I know!" Chloe snapped, frustration flashing across her face, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. "But I'm not going down without a fight."
The car skidded slightly, the snow now a slick blanket beneath the tires. The siren wailed behind them. Max's breaths came in shallow bursts, the pressure of the situation closing in around her. Everything felt heavy, suffocating—the hospital, the chase, the icy grip of fear.
"Chloe… I can't…" Max's voice was weak, barely a whisper over the roar of the engine. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, her lungs tight.
What's wrong with me? Her fingers trembled as they clawed at her seatbelt. I can't breathe…
Chloe's head whipped toward her. "Max, what—?"
"I'm not okay," Max gasped, her vision blurring at the edges. Her heart hammered, but her lungs were locked, frozen.
I'm not here. I can't feel my body.
"Chloe… please… stop."
Fear overtook Chloe's anger, and her grip on the wheel loosened. "Max? Hey—Max!" Chloe slammed the brakes. The car screeched to a halt, sliding slightly on the snow-covered road.
The sirens howled closer, but Chloe barely heard them.
She reached across the seat, her voice trembling. "Max, look at me. You're okay. You're okay, just—breathe. Breathe with me, okay? Please." Chloe's usual confidence cracked, her voice breaking. "Please, Max."
Max's eyes fluttered, her chest rising in jagged breaths, but Chloe's hand on her arm was steady, grounding. Max blinked sluggishly, her voice a whisper. "Hey… I think… I'm okay now."
Chloe swallowed hard, her thumb brushing lightly against Max's sleeve, her own breath catching in relief. For a moment, the police sirens faded into the background; the only thing that mattered was Max coming back from the edge.
But then, the red and blue lights flared around them.
The police car pulled to a stop, its siren still wailing. Red and blue lights flashed, but Chloe was focused entirely on Max.
"Step out of the vehicle with your hands up!" a voice boomed from the loudspeaker.
The police car blocked the road ahead, and another cruiser skidded to a stop behind them, cutting off any escape.
Max shivered. "I guess we better talk to the police…"
Chloe sighed, nodding. She shoved open the driver's side door, raising her hands in the air. Max followed suit, her body trembling as she stepped out into the cold night. Snowflakes landed on her face, biting through her thin hospital clothes.
The police swarmed them. Max barely registered the feel of cold metal as they cuffed her hands behind her back. Her eyes were glued to Chloe, who stood still, staring defiantly ahead, her jaw clenched, daring the officers to make a move.
"Chloe Price, you're under arrest for grand theft auto," one of the officers barked, stepping forward.
Chloe's lips curled into a smirk. "Well, well, if it isn't Officer Corn." She tilted her head, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tired of this game yet?"
Officer Corn, a grizzled man in his mid-forties who could stand to lose a few pounds, sighed heavily as he approached her. "Chloe Price. Back at it again, huh?"
"You know me. Can't let you guys get bored on the job," Chloe quipped, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
Corn shifted his gaze to Max, who stood awkwardly next to the car, shivering in her hospital clothes, her hands cuffed behind her. His brow furrowed in confusion. "And who's this?"
Max swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady despite the cold. "Max Caulfield. I… I live in Arcadia Bay. I'm a student at Blackwell Academy."
Corn's eyes drifted over Max's shaved head and hospital scrubs, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if debating whether to ask. Before he could, Chloe cut in, her voice softening.
"She had nothing to do with this," Chloe said, locking eyes with Officer Corn. "Max didn't know I'd… borrowed the car. She's just along for the ride, okay? And she's not well." Chloe motioned toward Max, her voice losing its edge. "She just got out of the hospital. Doctor's orders—she needs to rest. This is all on me."
Corn hesitated, glancing between them. The snow was falling harder now, swirling in the beams of the police cruiser's headlights. Max stood silently, shivering, as Chloe continued.
"Look, Corn. I messed up. I always do. But Max? She's innocent. She's sick, man. She needs to be in bed, not getting dragged into my mess."
Corn let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. His expression softened as he studied Max—her pale face, her shaved head, the hospital scrubs, the way she swayed slightly from exhaustion. He turned back to Chloe.
"You're taking full responsibility?"
Chloe nodded. "Yeah. I stole the car. Max didn't even know until we were already on the road."
Corn sighed again, shaking his head. "Alright." He turned to the other officers. "Get her out of the cuffs. She's not in any shape for this."
An officer stepped forward and uncuffed Max, who let out a shaky breath of relief. Her wrists throbbed where the cuffs had bitten into her skin, and she shivered as snowflakes continued to fall around them.
Corn looked back at Max, his voice softening. "I'm gonna need your details—name, address, all that." He nodded toward another officer. "Take her information, make sure we've got everything."
Max nodded weakly, still shaken, and gave her address at Blackwell Academy, along with her contact details, as the officer jotted everything down.
As the officer finished writing, Chloe smirked. "Hey, if you're driving her home, mind giving me a lift too? My address is 44 Cedar—"
Corn cut her off, his expression hardening. "Not this time, Chloe. You're coming with us."
Chloe's smirk faltered but quickly masked it with a shrug, though the tension in her body was obvious. "Yeah, yeah, figured as much."
Corn sighed, his eyes softening for just a moment. "You're running out of jokes, Price. Get in the car."
Corn pointed at Max, his tone more gentle now. "We'll take you back to Blackwell. You need to get some rest."
Max nodded, too weak to reply, but the gratitude in her eyes was unmistakable.
Max shuffled toward the waiting cruiser, each step heavier than the last. But halfway there, she stopped. Her heart ached in a way she hadn't expected, and without thinking, she turned back. Her eyes locked onto Chloe's, who stood cuffed in the snow, jaw set in defiance.
Before she could stop herself, Max rushed toward her and threw her arms around Chloe in a desperate hug.
Chloe stiffened, her cuffed hands frozen at her sides. "Max…?" Her voice cracked, barely audible over the wind.
Max pressed her forehead to Chloe's shoulder, letting herself fall into the moment. Her lips brushed against Chloe's, and the words spilled out, trembling. "Thank you. You have no idea how much it means that you came for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Chloe swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing. She glanced away, her tough mask slipping. "Max, c'mon…" Her voice faltered. "You don't need to—" She cut herself off, unable to finish, her eyes showing something Max couldn't quite read. Vulnerability. Fear. Love, maybe.
Max gave one last lingering glance at Chloe before the officer gently guided her toward the cruiser. The door closed with a dull thud, leaving Chloe standing in the snow, cuffs clinking, watching as Max was led away.
Corn cleared his throat, cutting through the moment. "Well, now. That's a first." His grizzled voice turned wry as he looked between them. "Price, here's some unsolicited advice: leave that girl out of your messes from now on. She doesn't deserve this."
Chloe's usual smirk returned, though it was softer this time. "Keep your advice, Corn. I already know I'm bad news."
As the snow continued to fall, Corn motioned for Chloe to follow him to one of the cruisers.
—
At the police station, the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glare over the dull room. Chloe sat slouched in the metal chair, her handcuffed wrists resting on the table, as she had done many times before. Officer Corn leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her.
"You've really done it this time," Corn muttered as he rubbed his temples. "Grand theft auto, evading arrest—this isn't a slap on the wrist, Chloe."
Chloe shrugged. "It's not like I stole a Ferrari. David probably doesn't even know it's missing yet."
Corn's face remained serious. "He knows. He reported it stolen first thing this morning. And he made sure we knew to keep looking out for you and that car tonight."
Chloe leaned back in her chair, feigning indifference, though her bravado was clearly slipping. "Well, shit."
Corn nodded. "And this time, there's no slipping out of it, Chloe."
Chloe smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, I figured."
Corn sighed, stepping toward the door. "I'll give you a minute to think about what happens next. But this time, Chloe… you're not walking away."
Chloe let out a low, cynical laugh as Corn left the room. "Guess I'm running out of chances, huh?"
—
The police cruiser pulled to a stop in front of Blackwell Academy's dormitories. Outside the window, the world was a blur of swirling snowflakes, obscuring the familiar grounds. Max felt like a ghost in her own body, weighed down by exhaustion, her mind struggling to keep up with the fact that she was, finally, back.
"Are you sure you're okay, Miss Caulfield?" the officer asked, his tone softer now than it had been earlier. He handed her a thick wool blanket, the kind meant for emergencies, his eyes full of concern as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
Max nodded, though she wasn't sure. "Yeah… I'll be fine," she mumbled, her voice hoarse from the cold, from exhaustion, from everything. "It's just around the corner."
The officer frowned but didn't press her. He stepped out, opened her door, and helped her to her feet. The cold immediately wrapped around her like an unwelcome embrace. The blanket felt heavy in her hands, and she quickly pulled it around her thin hospital scrubs, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking. Snowflakes collected in her hair, on her bare arms that peeked out from under the blanket, the cold so fierce it felt like it was sinking into her bones.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," the officer added, giving her a firm nod before climbing back into the car.
The cruiser's headlights pierced the falling snow for a moment, then it pulled away, tires crunching on ice. Max watched the red taillights disappear into the white void, leaving her with nothing but the sound of her own ragged breathing.
She turned to face the dormitory. The lights were off, windows dark; everyone was already tucked away for the night. Max dragged herself to the front door, her feet heavy, barely lifting in the thickening snow. Her hand reached instinctively into her hospital scrubs—only to realize she didn't have her key. Of course, she didn't.
Frustrated, she fumbled for a phone, but, of course, she didn't have that either.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She knocked on the door, hoping against hope someone might hear her, but the thick wood swallowed the sound. The entire first floor was just kitchen, day rooms, and storage—all of it dark. She knocked harder, more desperate this time, but there was no answer. The snow was falling faster, and the wind tugged at the edges of her blanket, its cold bite more intense by the second.
Her mind raced, scanning the building for any other way in. Samuel's ladder. The old maintenance guy always kept one tucked behind the toolshed. Without thinking, Max hurried around the building, feet stumbling through inches of snow, breath coming in sharp bursts. Twice, she nearly fell, slipping on the ice, but she made it to the ladder.
The old thing was rickety and cold, the metal biting into her already frozen fingers. She dragged it toward the building, its creaking echoing through the night. This was a bad idea. But she had no choice.
She set it beneath the nearest second-story window. It had to be Victoria's—perfect. Victoria had her spare key. Either way, she'd have to wake her.
Max grabbed onto the ladder, her frozen fingers slipping on the icy metal. You can't do this. You're too weak. Her body screamed at her to stop, to lie down in the snow and give in, but she forced herself to climb. The first few rungs felt impossible—her muscles were weak, shaky, as if they might give out at any moment—but she kept going.
The ladder wobbled dangerously. She had to pause halfway, her breath coming in sharp, painful gasps. One more step. Just one more. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, but she couldn't stop to fix it. Don't look down.
She reached the window. It was dark and quiet inside.
With one hand gripping the ladder, Max knocked gently on the glass, wincing as her frozen knuckles made contact. "Please… hear me," she whispered, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She knocked again, harder this time.
Her heart jumped when a light flicked on inside.
The curtains shifted, and then Victoria's tired face appeared at the window. She blinked, bleary-eyed, trying to make sense of the sight in front of her. When she finally focused on Max, her eyes widened in shock—and then she screamed.
The sound tore through the night, sharp and panicked. Max almost lost her grip.
Victoria stumbled backward, hand flying to her mouth, tears already brimming in her eyes.
"Victoria!" Max knocked harder. "Please, let me in!"
Lights flicked on in the hallway, illuminating the dormitory windows. Voices started murmuring, getting louder by the second. Max saw shadows moving behind the glass as the entire corridor began to stir.
"Max?" someone called from inside, disbelief thick in their voice.
Max gestured weakly. "The door…" she tried to shout, her voice barely a rasp. "Please… open the door…"
For a moment, it seemed like no one could hear or understand her. Then, Dana appeared, eyes wide, signaling for Max to come around to the front. She disappeared, and Max scrambled down the ladder as quickly as her frozen limbs would allow.
By the time she rounded the building, the door was open. A small crowd had gathered, students spilling into the night, their faces pale with shock, some whispering, others staring like they were seeing a ghost. Victoria wasn't among them.
"Max?" Dana stepped forward, arms open, quickly pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh my God, it's really you."
Max nodded, shivering uncontrollably. She let Dana guide her inside, the warmth of the building and her friend's embrace barely registering through the fog of her exhaustion.
"Holy shit, she's alive," someone whispered.
A barrage of questions followed, but Max couldn't answer. She leaned into Dana, letting the noise and the heat wash over her as they made their way upstairs. The crowd pressed in, some crying, others staring wide-eyed, unable to believe what they were seeing.
Dana waved them off as she led Max toward her room. "Give her space, guys. She's not well. Can't you see?"
"I'm okay," Max managed to mumble, though she wasn't sure if it was true. She was back—but everything hurt. Her body, her mind, her heart.
As they reached her room, Max caught a glimpse of Victoria standing just inside her doorway. Her face was streaked with tears, her hands trembling as she clutched the doorframe. She looked at Max like she was staring at an apparition.
Max wanted to say something, to tell her it was okay—but no words came. Victoria turned suddenly, slamming her door shut with a sob.
Dana helped Max to her door, the one opposite Victoria's. "She took your death the hardest, you know," Dana said softly.
"My death?" Max blinked, confused.
"We all thought… well, you were in a coma, right? And then, one day, your hospital room was just… empty. No one would tell us what happened. We thought you'd… died."
Max shook her head. The weight of exhaustion made it hard to think. "I'll explain tomorrow. I just… I need sleep."
Dana nodded. "Okay. But, uh, you might want to talk to Vee first."
Max sighed. "Right."
"Need assistance?" Dana tilted her head.
"No, I'm good." Max hugged her briefly before turning to Victoria's door.
She knocked, careful this time. "Victoria, it's me, Max."
"Go away!" Victoria's voice was muffled but sharp with anger.
She knocked again. "Victoria? Can we talk?"
"I said, go away!"
Max hesitated. She didn't want to push, but she needed her key. She raised her hand to knock again—when suddenly, the door swung open, and she was yanked inside. Victoria pulled her into a fierce, almost painful embrace, sobbing into her shoulder.
Max froze, then she let her arms wrap around Victoria. And for the first time since she woke up, Max let herself cry too.