It's been so long since I'd sat down to write and it actually felt really good! Thank you for the quick reviews! I promise, I actually am getting a new chapter of Good Dog out soon. I just had to get this brain worm out. I don't know how the overall style will compare to my old writing style, but I really hope it will appeal to all of my new and old readers -Mercy

Chapter Three
-September 17th-

(Jade)

I sit on the edge of my bunk, flipping through the letters my mom brought when she visited. I never thought she'd come all the way out to Yerba to see me. Hell, I didn't think anyone would. But here I am, holding onto these precious pieces of paper like they're the last bit of home I'll ever see. Some letters are from our friends, and some from teachers back at school. But mostly, it's my mom's words I keep coming back to.

"I still can't believe she came out here…" I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. I glance over at Tori, who's sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the bed, her brow furrowed as she scans through two of her own letters—one from her family and one from Sikowitz.

"It was really nice of her to bring us these letters," Tori murmurs, her voice soft. "It feels great to hear from everyone back home, doesn't it?" She sounds almost fragile, as if the connection to home might shatter if she speaks too loudly.

I nod, watching her as she reads. The letter from Sikowitz is filled with apologies and promises that he'd do everything in his power to bring us back home. I know the guy means well, but let's face it—if my mom, a top lawyer in her firm, can't get us out of this hellhole, what can Sikowitz possibly do? He's not exactly a miracle worker.

Then there's the letter from her family. I caught a glimpse of it earlier—it was mostly from her sister. Nothing much from her parents except a brief "We miss you" scrawled at the bottom. It makes my blood boil. I mean, how can they not write more? Tori deserves better than some half-assed 'we miss you.' The least they could do is pretend to care. Thankfully, our friends had written longer, more heartfelt letters, and I can tell it lifted her spirits a little. She needed that.

"I'm glad you got to meet her," I say, trying to lighten the mood. "I told you my mom was cool." I run a hand through my hair and sigh. There's no phone in here, and I haven't spoken to my mom since we got locked up in this hellhole. She must've been so worried. I mean, she came to another country just to make sure I was doing okay... That's real love.

Tori looks up at me and smiles softly. "She's really cool," she agrees, her brown eyes brightening for the first time in days. She carefully folds her letters and sets them on our makeshift bed—just an extra mattress we managed to stack on mine. Took a while for Tori to get her own mattress and by that time, we'd moved my mattress to her bunk to make it easier for the both of us. It's not much, but we share the space. It helps her sleep better at night, keeps her calmer. And… if I'm being honest, I don't mind the extra warmth on the cold nights either. It's not even Winter yet here but it's been so cold. The jackets they gave us are practically useless, but at least they're something.

"Come on, it's almost lunchtime," I say, stuffing my letters back into their envelope and pulling on my jacket. I toss Tori hers, and we leave our cell, heading out into the yard.

As we walk, she hesitates before speaking, her voice uncertain. "Do you think your mom will come to see us again before she leaves? Maybe I could give her a letter to bring to my parents…" She trails off, her hope hanging in the chilly air like smoke.

I glance at her and shrug. "I don't know. You saw how long it took for her to even get in here. They're strict as hell with visitors."

She bites her lip, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah… you're right."

The defeat in her voice makes my chest tighten. I hate seeing her like this. I let out a long breath and nudge her with my elbow. "Hey, write the letter anyway. If my mom can't take it, at least you'll have it ready for whenever they do come. I'm sure they're trying to visit, even if it's taking forever."

She gives me a small nod, the tiniest flicker of hope returning to her eyes. We settle down in our usual spot by the fence, our backs to the cold concrete wall. A few male inmates start shouting across the fence, trying to get our attention, but we've learned to tune them out. I pull the busted radio onto my lap and start fiddling with it again. One of the girls had knocked it over last week, and I've been trying to get it working ever since. Without it, we've got nothing but silence.

Tori sits on the ground to the side of me, scraping a rock against the ground, making these little scratches and shapes in the dirt. It's fairly quiet until I hear a sharp yelp.

I look up just in time to see Martina standing over Tori, her boot pressing down hard on the rock Tori had been using. Tori's hand must've gotten caught under it. Martina's a newer inmate, daughter of some big head out there I'm guessing, and used to getting whatever she wants.

"That all you do! Scratch, scratch, scratch!" Martina growls, kicking the rock away with a sneer. "Enough! No more noise!"

Tori mumbles an apology, cradling her hand. I quietly set the radio aside, rising to my feet. I walk over to Martina, standing toe-to-toe with her.

"You know the rules," I say through gritted teeth. "Nobody touches her. Now, get the hell out of here while I'm being nice."

Martina doesn't flinch. Instead, she crosses her arms and lifts her chin, defiance burning in her eyes. "No."

I stop, my fists clenching. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"I say no," she spits back. "No more of you bossy bossing around. You think you're scary, but you're just little girl."

My blood boils. Every muscle in my body tenses as I take a deep breath, unclenching my fists. "You better get out of here before I make you leave."

I turn back to check on Tori, but then I feel Martina's hand grab my shoulder, pulling me back. "You don't scare me," she taunts. "You act tough, but maybe I teach you a lesson by hurting your little dog there."

Before I even realize what I'm doing, my hand flies to my pocket. In a flash, I pull out the makeshift knife I'd crafted from a toothbrush and the broken blade of a razor. Without hesitation, I lash out, cutting across Martina's cheek.

She stumbles back, clutching her face. Blood seeps through her fingers, and she shrieks. But before she can retaliate, two guards rush over, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her away, kicking and screaming. A third guard comes to me, his hand outstretched.

"Knife," he says sternly.

I grit my teeth, staring him down. Reluctantly, I hand over the blade. Now I'll have to make another one. You never know when you'll need a decent weapon.

"You get warning," the guard says. "No more fighting or the Chancellor has to be called."

"She challenged me," I snap back. "I had to put her in her place."

"You're lucky it's just a warning," he replies. "Do not cause more trouble."

"Fine. Whatever."

I kneel beside Tori, taking her hand in mine. There's a bruise forming on her knuckles, but nothing seems broken. "Come on," I say, pulling her to her feet. We walk over to the water spigot, and I gently rinse her hand, clearing out the dirt and blood.

"I'm sorry…" she whispers.

"Shut up. That wasn't your fault," I mutter, inspecting her hand again. "That bitch was looking for trouble. Next time, she'll think twice."

Tori's silent, her eyes wide as she watches me work. I finish cleaning her hand, and we return to our spot. She sits close to me, her shoulder brushing mine. Normally, I'd tell her to back off, but today… I don't mind.

Back at the radio, I finally manage to get it working again. There's sound, but no signal. Damn antenna is still busted. I'll deal with it after lunch.

When the bell rings, we file inside. Tori struggles a bit with her tray, so I help her grab food. We sit down, and I immediately spot Martina, sitting at the far end of the cafeteria with her little group. She keeps her head down, avoiding my glare. Good.

Just as I'm about to dig in, Tori tentatively reaches over and places her cookie on my tray.

"I… I just wanted to say thank you," she says quietly. "For helping me earlier."

I feel my face heat up, and I quickly nod, focusing on my food. That whole ordeal with Martina has me too tense...

Lunch passes without any further drama, which is a relief after the earlier confrontation with Martina. Still, I can't shake the tension completely. There's always a sense of unease here—like you're waiting for the next disaster to hit. After we finish eating, we're sent back out to the yard, where I immediately turn my attention to the radio again. It's become something of an obsession, but at least it gives me something to focus on besides this hellish prison. The antenna is bent all to hell, but I've seen worse. Fixing it won't be nearly as tough as re-wiring the entire thing was, though. I pull it into my lap, concentrating on untangling the mess in front of me.

While I work on straightening out the antenna, I keep Tori in my line of sight, out of habit. She's my responsibility here, whether or not either of us like it.. She's sitting on the ground a little ways away, idly drawing in the dirt with her finger. The calm after the earlier chaos is nice, but I don't let myself relax too much.

It's then that I notice someone walking towards her. Instinctively, I tense up, my grip tightening around the antenna. But as the figure comes into view, I release a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. It's just Denora.

Denora's one of the youngest inmates in this place—just seven years old. It makes my stomach turn to think about how someone so young ended up here. That bastard Chancellor threw her in for stealing food. Stealing food, for God's sake. She's all alone, no family to visit her, no one looking out for her. She was just trying to survive, and now she's stuck here like the rest of us.

From the moment Denora arrived, Tori seemed to change. Before, she was skittish, always shrinking into herself, especially after they let her out of that goddamn box. It did something to her, being in there for so long—left her broken in a way I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to fix. But when Denora showed up, it was like Tori found something to hold on to. The kid gave her a purpose, and slowly, I started to see glimpses of the old Tori again.

Now, Tori kneels down beside Denora, greeting her with a soft smile. She always has a gentleness with the kid, like she's afraid she'll break if she's too rough. They start talking quietly, their heads close together, and I catch bits of their conversation drifting on the wind. I can't make out much, but it sounds like they're going over some of the lessons Tori's been teaching her. Tori's been helping Denora learn to read since she arrived. It's a simple thing, but in a place like this, it means everything. It gives them both something to focus on, something that feels normal in a world that's anything but.

In return, Denora's been teaching us both some Yerbanian. It's not much—just enough to get by—but it's more than we had before. Enough to understand what the guards are saying when they think we're not paying attention. Tori's gotten good at picking up on the words, and I've noticed she's become more confident because of it. There's something empowering about understanding what people don't think you can.

I watch as Tori gently ruffles Denora's hair, a rare smile playing on her lips. She looks more like herself in moments like these—calmer, stronger. It's like the kid gives her back a piece of who she used to be. And honestly, I don't mind. If having Denora around helps Tori feel better, then I'll do whatever I can to keep that kid safe too.

With one final glance to make sure they're okay, I turn my attention back to the radio, resuming my work on the antenna. It's more bent than I thought, and fixing it is turning into a bigger pain than I expected. I grit my teeth and focus, letting my hands work through the mechanics automatically. This thing has become my lifeline here. Without it, the silence would be unbearable. Music, even crackling and staticky, is the only reminder that the world outside still exists.

A bitter gust of wind blows down my back as I straighten the antenna as best I can with my nearly numb fingers, but my mind keeps drifting back to Tori and Denora occasionally. They've found something in each other that I can't give Tori—something soft, something hopeful. For me, it's always about survival, about keeping Tori out of trouble and getting through the next day. But Tori… she still has this glimmer of optimism, a piece of her that hasn't been ground down by this place. And Denora, as young and vulnerable as she is, brings that part of Tori back to the surface. Maybe that's why I'm so protective of them both.

I glance up again, just in time to see Tori and Denora moving around the yard together. Tori's showing her something, pointing to the sky as they walk. I can't hear what she's saying, but the way Denora's eyes light up makes me smile despite myself.

I remind Tori not to wander too far, my voice firm but not harsh. She waves me off with a grin, but I know she hears me.

As I get back to the radio, I think about how different things would be if it weren't for Denora. Without her, I'm not sure how Tori would have made it through these past few months. Denora's presence gives her something to fight for, someone to care about beyond herself. And in this place, that's everything. When you have someone to care about, you have a reason to keep going.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I manage to get the antenna straightened out. It's still a little crooked, but it's the best I can do with the limited tools I have. I flick the switch on the radio, and to my relief, it crackles to life. The sound is faint at first, just static, but I twist the dial, searching for a station. Eventually, I find one—a local news station, broadcasting updates about a storm passing through the region.

I let out a sigh, feeling a small sense of accomplishment as I listen to the familiar hum of voices on the radio. It's not music, but it's something. I hand the radio over to a few of the other women, telling them to find some music or anything that isn't the depressing news. They nod gratefully, and I sit back, finally letting myself relax a little.

But then I glance around and realize something's wrong. Tori isn't where I last saw her.

I sit up straight, my heart rate spiking. I scan the yard quickly, looking for her familiar figure.

I am going to kick her ass if she got into any trouble… I run around, asking everyone if they'd seen her anywhere. A few of the women said they saw her go inside. Maybe she went to our cell to get her letters for Denora to read… I run into the building and check, but I still don't see her. Bathrooms maybe?

"Tori!" I shout, my voice rising with panic. I can't lose her again. Last time she wandered off, she ended up with some of the older women, nearly taking a drug they claimed would "make life here easier." I can't let that happen again. I round a corner and nearly collide with someone.

"You! Jade!" The girl standing in front of me is vaguely familiar—probably someone I've yelled at before.

"Not right now. I'm looking for someone," I say quickly, trying to push past her.

"No! Other American buddy—Tori Veega! She is hurt!" Her words bring me to a halt, my stomach lurching.

I grab her arm, panic coursing through me. "Where is she?!"

"This way!" she says urgently, tugging me down the hall. I barely notice where we're heading—just that we're moving fast, and all I can think about is Tori. Is she hurt? How bad?

We stop outside the bathroom doors. Without thinking, I release the girl and rush inside, shouting, "Tori—"

Before I can finish, something hard crashes into the side of my head. Blinding pain erupts, and I drop to the floor, barely able to hold back a scream. My vision swims, stars exploding behind my eyes. "What the fuck…" I mutter, my voice slurred as I try to steady myself.

I attempt to push up from the cold tile, but a foot slams onto my chest, forcing me down. My vision sharpens just enough to see who it belongs to: Martina, towering over me with a wicked grin.

"Looking for someone?" she says, her voice dripping with malice. She digs her heel into my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Martina…" I gasp, squirming beneath her. "Get off me!"

She doesn't budge. "Naïve girl. Trying to save sad little American buddy friend."

I glance toward the doorway, hoping to see Tori—or anyone who can get Martina off me—but the only other person there is the girl who led me here. She's standing by a stall, looking down at the floor with an expression of shame. Realization hits me like a slap to the face. She tricked me. Tori isn't here.

"You… you lied," I croak, glaring at her.

The girl doesn't look me in the eye. Maybe Martina had some kind of blackmail against her. The door opens again, but it's only Martina's two little underlings that walk in.

I thrash against Martina's hold, panic taking over. "What did you do with her?!"

Martina laughs, a cold, sharp sound. "She's fine. Maybe out in the yard." She bends down, her face inches from mine, her eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. "But you. You are here and alone."

Without warning, she grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my head back into the floor. Pain explodes in my skull, and I cry out, instinctively reaching for her hand. She releases me, only to bring her knee down hard into my stomach. The wind is knocked out of me, and I curl up, gasping for air.

"Look at you," Martina sneers, her voice cold and mocking. "You are just a child, like I say."

I try to fight back, swinging blindly, but the blows to the head messed me up more than I thought and she easily dodges, grabbing my arm and twisting it painfully behind my back. The sharp crack of my shoulder popping makes me scream.

"Fuck!" I howl in pain, my voice ragged.

But she's not done as she pulls a knife from her pocket and the girl who led me here grabs Martina's arm. "Wait! I thought you are just going to hit her! If you kill her, we get in trouble!" Martina shoves her away and the other two force her out of the bathroom. Before I can pull myself off the ground, I'm held down as Martina plunges the knife into my gut. A searing pain shoots through me, and I scream again, my body convulsing from the shock.

Martina twists the knife before yanking it out, leaving me gasping and clutching at my stomach. Blood pours from the wound, warm and sticky between my fingers. I feel my strength draining, fast.

"Don't worry," she says, standing over me with a satisfied smirk. "I'll take good care of Tori Veega."

I can barely focus on her words. The pain is overwhelming, radiating through my entire body, making it impossible to think.

As Martina, her crew who stood watch, and the girl walk away, leaving me broken and bleeding on the bathroom floor, I try to push myself up. My vision blurs, and my arms shake, but I can't give up. I have to survive. Tori… I need to find Tori. I have to warn her...

Everything fades as darkness closes in, but the last thing on my mind is Tori.

(Tori)

"Denora, come on. Jade is going to be upset with me for being gone so long." Denora had to use the bathroom, and I know she hates going alone, so I went with her when Jade seemed too distracted by the radio to notice. I gently hold her arm, trying to lead her back to where we were before. But she keeps slowing down, looking over at the men's side of the prison with a longing gaze that makes me pause. "Is there someone over there you know?" I ask, curious but cautious.

Denora nods, her big brown eyes looking up at me before drifting back to the fence separating us from the men's side. "My papa… they brought him here a long time ago."

Her dad? My mind races. He's locked up here? "Your dad's here?" I ask, surprised. "Is he... dangerous?"

She shakes her head, offended by my question, and gives me a look that says How dare you? before answering. "No! He's a painter. He painted the Chancellor's house, but the Chancellor didn't like the color. He said my papa did a bad job and threw him in prison for five years."

Five years? For using the wrong color paint? My stomach turns with anger. That's so beyond cruel. "How long ago was that?"

"Three years ago," Denora says, her voice soft, eyes still fixed on the men's side. "My mama said we couldn't visit him. She said it was too far and we didn't have the money. Mama had to work a lot, just so we could eat. When she died, I just wanted to see my papa again..." Her voice trails off, thick with sadness.

Jesus. This poor kid. She lost her mom, and her dad's locked up for something so stupid. I wonder if she got herself arrested on purpose just to be close to him. My heart aches at the thought. I rub the back of my neck, trying to think of something—anything—that might help.

"What if we help you find him?" I suggest, the idea forming quickly in my mind. "We could ask around, see if anyone knows where he is."

Denora's eyes widen with hope as she looks up at me. "You would help me?! Thank you!" She throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I tense up at first—physical contact has become something I avoid in here—but I force myself to relax and hug her back, feeling her small frame tremble slightly. She pulls away, smiling up at me, and I feel this surge of protectiveness I didn't even know I had.

Maybe Jade won't be so mad at me for disappearing if I explain that I was helping Denora. I glance down at her again, and it hits me just how much I care about this kid. Ever since she got here, I've had this overwhelming urge to watch out for her, like some kind of big sister instinct kicking in. Maybe it's because I know what it's like to be scared and alone.

I think back to nearly a year ago, when my mom told me and Trina that she was pregnant. We were all so excited. Mom was glowing, and for once, Trina and I agreed on something—we couldn't wait to be big sisters. I wasn't going to be the baby anymore, and I'd have someone who'd look up to me, someone who'd need me.

Trina mentioned in her last letter that Mom gave birth to a little boy. Andrew. My baby brother. I should have been there for his birth, but instead, I'm stuck in here, missing out on three years of his life. I wonder if he looks like Dad… if he has Mom's smile. I shake the thought away before it pulls me too far under, but it lingers like a dull ache in my chest.

"Tori? Are you okay?" Denora's voice pulls me back to the present, and I look down to see her watching me with concern.

"Yeah," I sigh, forcing a small smile. "I was just thinking about something. Come on, let's go find Jade. Maybe she'll help us too." I take her hand again and start leading her back to where we'd been sitting, but when we get there, Jade's nowhere in sight. My heart skips a beat. She must've realized I was gone and gone looking for me.

"I'm in so much trouble…" I mutter under my breath, biting my lip.

"Will she yell at you? I don't like it when she yells…" Denora's voice is small and worried, and I can't bring myself to tell her the truth—that yeah, Jade's definitely going to yell at me. Instead, I shake my head and try to reassure her, even though my stomach is in knots.

We start asking around if anyone's seen Jade, but everyone just shrugs, saying she was here earlier, looking for me. I'm about to go up to the guards—something I hate doing—when suddenly, a girl bursts out of the main building, screaming for help. She's yelling in mostly Yerbanian, but I catch two words in English: *American buddy*.

Jade.

Oh god, no. My heart lurches in my chest as I take off running behind the guards, Denora's small voice calling out after me but fading in the distance. The guards head straight for the bathrooms, and by the time I get there, a crowd has already formed. I can't see what's happening, but I hear someone shout for the doctor from the infirmary. Panic surges in my veins, and I start pushing through the women in front of me.

I can't hear Jade. I can't hear her voice. She's the loudest person I know, and I can't hear her. Why can't I hear her?

"Move!" I scream, my voice sharp and desperate. The women blocking my way jump, turning to look at me before they finally part and let me through. My breath catches in my throat when I see her—Jade, lying on the floor, blood everywhere.

"Oh my god, Jade…" I drop to my knees beside her, my hands shaking. One of the guards is pressing down on her stomach with her jacket, trying to stop the bleeding, while another guard is trying to wake her up.

"Who did this to you?" I whisper, my voice cracking as I brush her hair out of her face. Jade's eyes flutter open, dazed, but as soon as she focuses on me, she grimaces and tries to sit up.

"Son of a bitch…" she groans, weak but still herself. The guards push her back down, telling her not to move, but she grabs my hand, squeezing as hard as she can manage.

"Vega… if I die, I'm kicking your fucking ass for disappearing," she mutters, her voice strained but laced with that familiar sarcasm. I bite back a sob and lean down closer to her, my throat tightening. "Jade… please don't die.." I grip her hand, squeezing back, feeling grief and adrenaline pumping through me as I watch as she struggles to stay awake.

Two medics rush over with a stretcher, quickly working to slow the bleeding and stabilize her enough to move. I stay by her side, holding her hand, until they finally lift her onto the stretcher and start carrying her toward the infirmary. I try to follow, but one of the guards blocks me, ordering me back to the yard.

I'm left standing there, watching as they take her away, my chest tight with fear and guilt. I start pacing, chewing on my nails, my mind racing. Denora finds me, tugging at my sleeve, trying to ask what happened, but I can barely think straight. Who would do this to her? Who would hurt Jade like this?

I glance around the yard, scanning faces, trying to figure out who could be responsible. Jade's loud and brash, but she doesn't have many real enemies. I turn, and that's when I hear it—loud, cruel laughter coming from behind me.

I spin around and spot Martina and her two lackeys standing by the table where Jade and I usually sit. Martina's playing with the radio, putting a cd in to play something, and she's laughing.

"She will never bother us again," Martina says in Yerbanian, just loud enough for me to hear. "And the scaredy one will obey me now. Maybe I teach her lesson next. The kid too."

I freeze, my whole body trembling. It was her. She did this to Jade, and now she's planning on hurting me… and Denora.

"Tori? Are you okay?" Denora's small hand slips into mine, momentarily pausing my fury. I glance down at her innocent face, full of concern, and I feel a surge of protectiveness flood through me.

She already attacked Jade, I can't let Martina hurt my sweet girl...

I crouch down, gripping her shoulders gently. "Denora, I need you to go back to your cell. Go sit on your bed, and I'll come find you soon, okay?"

She frowns, her confusion deepening, and shakes her head, trying to reach for my hand. "But—"

"Now," I say, my voice sterner than it's ever been with her..

"No buts. Go, now." I give her a gentle push towards the cells and after she looks back at me, point towards them. Her frown deepens, but does as I ask and leaves. Once she's out of sight, I steel my nerves and march towards Martina and the other women.

The closer I get, it's like my ears begin to ring and my vision narrows until I am only focused on them. I'm noticed and Martina even has the nerve to give me a smirk. She opens her mouth but I don't even give her a chance to say anything. I snatch the radio from her, grabbing it by the handle, and swing it as hard as I can, hitting her in the face. She immediately falls to the ground, and before they can do anything to stop me, I spin around and bash the other two women in the face with the radio, dropping it on the ground after they fall. I take a step back, breathing heavily, and wait for the guards to tackle me to the ground for assaulting the women but look around after a moment when nothing happens. There's a circle of women around me, seemingly blocking me from the view of the guards, and before I can say anything, one of them takes my hand and pulls me out of the circle, pulling me away from Martina and her crew. The crowd disperses and several women stay near me as the guards finally come over.

"This is the one?" One guard nudges Martina's leg as she rolls on the ground, holding her bleeding, swollen jaw. One woman nods and steps forward.

"Yes. They attacked the American buddy Jade." The guard nods, looks over at me for a second, then tells the other guards to carry them to the infirmary. As they're carried off, the guard comes over to me and leans in, whispering to me.

"The chancellor will not know of this, but watch yourself.."

As the guards drag Martina and her crew away, I feel a surge of adrenaline mixed with fear. What have I just done? My heart pounds in my chest, and I take a shaky breath, still feeling the weight of Jade's attack pressing down on me.

"Are you okay?" One of the women who pulled me from the crowd asks, concern etched across her face. I nod but don't trust my voice to respond. The ringing in my ears slowly fades, and I realize just how many eyes are on me, assessing, judging.

"I didn't mean to hurt them that badly… I just…" I stammer, my mind racing. I had acted on instinct, fueled by the rage I felt for what Martina had done to Jade. The memory of her lying there, bloodied and weak, flashes through my mind. "I couldn't let them get away with what they did to Jade…"

Another woman steps closer, her expression softening. "You did what you had to do. They crossed a line. You're not alone in this; we all know how they are."

The sincerity in her voice does little to calm my nerves. I glance around and notice the crowd that had gathered is slowly dispersing, though a few people linger, keeping their distance. They exchange looks, quiet murmurs of support passing between them, but it's hard to focus on that. Gratitude and anxiety swirl inside me, and suddenly, I feel lightheaded. One of the women nearby catches me as I start to sink to the ground, shaking as the realization hits—this happened because of me.

Jade told Martina off and cut her face with that knife when she stepped on me. She got hurt because of me. Jade always tells me to stand up for myself, but I didn't, and now she might die for it. The frustration boils over, and before I can stop myself, I'm punching the ground, over and over, swearing until my fists are bloody and my throat is raw. I slump down, my head in my hands, breathing hard as I try to pull myself together.

"Tori?"

I look up, startled, and see Denora standing there, fear clear in her eyes.

"D-Denora! What are you doing here? I told you to stay in your cell!" I reach my hand toward her, but stop when she flinches.

"I saw you hurt those ladies..." She's trembling, not even making eye contact. She didn't hear what they said, doesn't know what happened to Jade. All she knows is that I sent her away, and then I hurt three people. Badly.

I hold out my hand again, and after a moment, she takes it. I lead her off to the side so we can sit.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that," I say quietly. "I was just so angry. They really hurt Jade. Not that it makes what I did right. I shouldn't have done that. I just wanted to hurt them as much as they hurt her." I let out a shaky breath and lean forward, resting my arms on my knees. "I've never been that mad before… I'm sorry."

Denora doesn't say anything, but she leans against me, and the guilt hits me hard. She's just a kid—way too young to see any of this. "Is Jade going to be okay?" she asks after a moment, squeezing my hand tightly.

I don't know, but I try to keep my voice steady. "She's tough as nails. I bet she'll be back before you know it."

I stand up and brush the dirt off. "Come on, I should probably go clean my hands." Denora follows me as I wash my hands at a nearby spigot. After asking around, I manage to get some makeshift bandages. As I wrap my knuckles, I can't help but think about how I'm supposed to keep her safe when I can't even keep it together myself.

-October 1st-

I've been trying my best to keep things as normal as possible while Jade recovers. It's not easy, though—everything feels off without her around. Jade's mom came by the day Jade got stabbed but she didn't stay long. As soon as she heard what happened, she rushed to the hospital. I never gave her the letter for my parents, but honestly, it was better that she went to Jade. My parents could wait.

I got to visit Jade once after she came back from the Yerbanian hospital. They had her in the infirmary, but she was out cold the whole time. I sat with her for a bit, just watching her sleep, before I had to leave. Efka said he'd keep me updated on her, but he wasn't assigned to the infirmary much, so I didn't hear a lot. Most of my time was spent waiting, trying to find things to keep myself busy.

The days without Jade around felt longer than they actually were. I couldn't help but notice how empty things felt without her snarky comments or the way she'd always find a way to make the worst situations seem less... hopeless. She's the only one here who didn't baby me, who sees through all the crap and doesn't treat me like a scared little girl trying to survive in this place.

I tried to keep acting like everything was fine, but I felt the pressure every single day. The others looked at me differently now—like I was stepping into Jade's shoes and should be doing something about... well, everything, and Denora stuck to me like glue, watching my every move like she was waiting for me to explode again. I hated that I scared her. She shouldn't have had to see me like that, losing control, hurting people the way I did. It's not who I am... at least… it's not who I was.

Things were changing fast. People who used to be too scared to even speak up started coming to me when they needed help with something, or if I'd heard anything from Efka about Jade. It was like they were expecting me to have all the answers now. The truth is, I was just as lost as they were. We all know this is temporary. When Jade's back, she'll take over again. I don't like being the one everyone turns to. I'm not as tough as she is, despite my temper and what I did to Martina and her crew.

I keep myself busy, helping out where I can, even spending extra time with Denora to make sure she was okay. Every time she asked if Jade would be okay, I'd put on a brave face and tell her she would, but deep down, I wasn't always so sure. The worry gnawed at me constantly, but I couldn't let Denora see that. She needed me to be strong for her, and I needed to believe that Jade would pull through, because if she didn't... I wasn't sure what I would do.

"Tori?" I look up, pulled from my thoughts, and see Selma standing at the entrance to my cell. Selma has been Jade's go-to for finding out what's happening on our side of the prison, and while Jade's been out of commission, she's been helping me by being my ears. I sit up from the bed and wave her in.

"Sorry to bother you when you try to nap, but Denora is in trouble with one of the girls. It not too serious, but she was trying to take something from someone's cell." Selma turns to the doorway and calls out in Yerbanian, telling someone to come in. A woman named Sherana walks in, holding Denora's hand, gently pulling her into the room. Denora tries to resist but stops when she sees me. I stand up, crossing my arms, and raise an eyebrow at her.

"Denora, what have I told you about taking things that aren't yours?" She shifts her feet, looking sheepish.

"To ask first…" she mumbles.

I sigh, shaking my head, and motion for Sherana to let her go. She does, and Denora immediately comes to stand beside me. I place a hand on her shoulder and make her look at me.

"Apologize." Denora pouts but turns to Sherana, giving a quiet apology. Sherana nods and leaves without saying much. There's an unspoken understanding that Denora isn't being malicious—she's just a kid, still learning right from wrong. People here don't really get mad at her; they just get a bit frustrated. Honestly, everyone here seems to care about her as much as I do, and she tends to get away with a lot.

I thank Selma, and she heads out, leaving just Denora and me. I have her sit down on the bed, and I sit beside her.

"What was it you were trying to take? If it's something you really need, I'm sure we can find a way to get it for you." She shakes her head, fidgeting, a habit I'm pretty sure she picked up from me.

"It's okay, I'm not mad. You can tell me."

"I wanted paper so I could write a letter to Jade... to tell her to get better and come back." She hugs me tightly and starts to cry, and I instinctively hug her back. She just wanted to do something nice for Jade.

I sigh, rubbing her back to soothe her. "I'll get you some paper and a pencil, but you need to ask next time. I know you miss Jade, but if you get in trouble and the guards find out, you could be punished, and then you might not be able to see Jade for a while."

She sniffles and nods, wiping her eyes.

"Come on, I bet if we ask around, we can find you some paper pretty quickly."

We head out into the yard, asking some of the women if they have any paper to spare. After a little while, we manage to collect a few sheets and a pencil. Denora and I sit at a table, and she starts writing. Her English has improved a lot lately—she can read and write better than a lot of the women here. I've been using the letters from Jade's mom to help teach her, since there's not much else to read in here.

While she's writing, I scan the yard, checking for anything that might be out of place, and that's when I see Efka in the yard and coming this way. He never enters the yard unless it's important and my first thought is Jade. I stand, telling Denora to stay here until I come back, and go up to him, ready to bombard him with questions. He stops me before I can say anything and just nods.

"She's awake."