Hello, guys!
I hope you enjoy the second chapter of Fix a Heart!
Like I mentioned before, this story won't focus a lot on how the girls will be rescued from the dollhouse or how they'll solve the A mistery. It's all about healing journeys.
With that being said, I hope you appreciate this chapter.
With love,
White Tigresss.
Chapter 2 - Game Over, Wilden
Emily lay motionless on the cold, hard bed of the dollhouse, her body feeling numb from the days spent in this twisted prison. The eerie silence around her made her feel more isolated, more trapped than the physical walls that held her captive. Her mind was spinning from Wilden's disturbing words, the insinuation that Alison had always been in love with her.
"Alison in love with me?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible in the suffocating quiet. She wanted to brush off Wilden's words, but they gnawed at her. The memories of Alison, of the way she had looked at her during those summer days, now had a different weight. Could he have been telling the truth? Or was this just another of his cruel mind games?
Then, she remembered the night she and Alison spent together. Emily had no idea what came over her that night. She wasn't usually that brave, but she still found the courage to kiss Alison. It had scared her to death that Alison would still reject her after all that time, but the blonde just kissed her back and rolled on top of her. They didn't do anything dry humping, yet Alison had brought her over the edge and, God, she could still remember the gleam in Ali's eyes as she watched her and whispered things in her ear.
"You're so beautiful, my Mermaid."
But it all went downhill afterwards when Mona showed them — then irrefutable — proof that Alison was A, still lying and playing games. And that's how Emily framed their night: Alison using her feelings in order to manipulate her and get on her good side. After figuring out that Alison was innocent, Emily dared not to think about that night and whatever it could've meant.
Now, Wilden put that to the test.
The faint buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead droned on, the only sound that marked time in this place. Emily's hand tightened into a fist, her nails digging into her palm as the reality of her situation sank deeper into her chest. She couldn't afford to lose her grip on the truth.
But the thought of Alison, the Alison she had always known, kept pulling at her heart. She remembered the days when Alison was untouchable, but still, somehow, always within reach. Was it possible that Alison had cared about her all along, in a way Emily never fully understood?
Shaking her head, Emily fought back the rising tide of confusion. This wasn't the time to dwell on what could or couldn't have been. They needed to find a way out. Aria, Spencer, Hanna—they were all relying on each other to survive this nightmare. Emily knew she had to stay strong, for them, for herself.
She stood up, pacing the small room, feeling the weight of her body, the ache of muscles that hadn't moved in what felt like days. Her breath came out in shallow bursts as she tried to think of any clue, any small detail that could help them escape. Every second they spent in the dollhouse, Wilden was winning.
Emily paused and looked at the camera in the corner of her room, its red light blinking ominously. She knew Wilden was watching. He always was.
Deep down, the questions lingered, like ghosts that refused to be silenced. Had Alison really loved her? And if so, what did that mean now?
Alison's journey back home from jail was nothing short of chaotic. Outside her house, a mob led by Leona Vanderwaal, Mona's mother, swarmed like a storm, shouting accusations of injustice. Their cries echoed through the streets, each one striking like a physical blow. As the car pushed through the sea of furious faces, hands slapped the windows, and fists pounded against the steel frame. The bitter sting of hatred and grief hung in the air, fueling the crowd's rage.
She had expected no less.
The house was no safe haven either, not with the ring of police cars and flashing lights forming a barrier between her and the people who believed she deserved nothing less than a cell. A convicted killer in her own home, under state protection? It seemed unthinkable to them — and, in many ways, it felt unthinkable to her, too.
Alison empathized with the pain and anger of the people outside, but she knew that nothing she could say would sway them. They saw her as the liar she once was, the killer convicted in Mona's death. No explanation of what had truly happened, what had unfolded between her and her friends in recent years, could change that.
Her thoughts spiraled away from the mob and back to her friends. Emily. Aria. Hanna. Spencer. Every second counted. She pressed her lips together, already calculating her next move. Caleb had promised to help get the monitoring device off her ankle, but even that wouldn't be enough. They needed a solid plan — something bigger, something that could finally take A down.
Alison knew the clock was ticking. Her temporary parole was as much a trap for her as it was for A. The house arrest meant constant surveillance. She couldn't afford to just sit and wait for A to make a move, not with her friends' lives on the line. Yet, the idea of confronting A without her there to lead felt reckless at best. She couldn't trust the boys to handle the rescue on their own.
Caleb was smart, yes, but this needed more than brains. Toby had his badge, but badges didn't solve puzzles. Ezra... well, she wasn't sure what Ezra brought to the table in this fight. The war against A required instinct, ruthlessness, and something darker — all things Alison knew well.
She hadn't even realized her father's hand on her shoulder until they stepped inside the house. Jason followed behind, carrying her suitcase. Kenneth's face was pale, and he hadn't spoken a word since they left the courthouse. Maybe he didn't need to.
As soon as they stepped into the house, Kenneth enveloped Alison in a tight embrace. For a fleeting moment, she felt her walls begin to crumble, but then he whispered, just low enough for no cop to hear, "We're getting you out of the monitoring device, and we're leaving the country."
Slowly, Alison pulled away, her heart heavy. "I can't. My friends are gone, and I need to rescue them."
Kenneth's face flushed, his frustration palpable. "Alison, they left you to rot in that jail! It's not your problem anymore! For all you know, they might have left the country without you!"
"No, they haven't, Dad! They're in trouble!" Alison insisted, her voice rising. "And I have to save them."
"You don't owe them anything!" he shot back, anger lacing his tone.
"If I hadn't been such a horrible person, they wouldn't be in danger because of me!" The admission hit her like a brick.
Kenneth stumbled back, momentarily speechless. He turned to Jason, who had remained oddly silent. "Jason, please tell your sister to listen to me!"
But Jason just stared at the floor, lost in thought.
"Jason, Spencer is gone! She's your sister too!" Alison pressed, desperation creeping into her voice. "I can figure out a way to bring her back."
"That's preposterous!" Kenneth yelled. "You will do as I say!"
"If Alison wants to stay, then let it be," Jason finally spoke, quiet yet resolute.
"I am her father; she will do what I say!" Kenneth insisted, the implication of Jason's illegitimacy hanging in the air.
"But she's at my house and can't go anywhere because she's under police protection," Jason countered. "If you can't accept that, then you'd better leave."
Kenneth glared at Alison. "If I walk out that door, I'm not coming back to support you."
It stung to think she'd be alone, especially with her mother gone. Yet, she stood her ground. She had Jason now, along with the boys. Leaving her friends behind wasn't an option. She had left Rosewood once, and it always haunted her, wondering if staying would have changed everything.
"I'm staying, Dad. And that's final," she declared.
Kenneth lifted his chin, grabbing his keys with a look of finality. "That's the last time both of you will ever hear from me."
With that, he stormed out, dodging the press and the angry mob outside, leaving Alison and Jason in a tense silence.
"So… what's the plan?" Jason asked, his voice tinged with both frustration and concern. "You said you had one."
Alison crossed her arms, feeling the weight of the conversation already. "I'm waiting for Toby to come up. We're working together to figure out where the girls are, and Caleb's traced A's IP to somewhere in Tyler State Park."
Jason narrowed his eyes, suspicion evident. "Ali, please tell me this isn't one of those times where you just wing it and leave the rest of us to clean up your mess."
Alison huffed, trying not to let her irritation show. It wasn't like Jason didn't have a point. Their relationship had improved, but the trust issues lingered, fed by years of manipulations and Jason's own battle with addiction. She admired how far he'd come since her supposed death, but they both knew the past still haunted them.
"Look, I know my track record isn't great," she admitted, softening her tone, "but this time it's different. I'm not flying solo, Jason. Caleb's found a lead, and we're working on a solid plan to infiltrate the park. I'm not going to rush in without thinking. I can't afford to."
Jason's frown relaxed, though the tension between them lingered. "I just want to make sure this isn't another mess we can't clean up."
"It won't be," Alison promised, though inside, she wasn't so sure.
Toby didn't show up that night as Alison had expected, so she tried to sleep, though her mind was racing with thoughts of A. She couldn't shake the feeling that A was planning something, lying in wait for the right moment. She didn't feel safe, even in her own home, which was why she ended up sleeping inside her closet—a habit she'd picked up from her time on the streets. Jason found it odd but didn't question her. Instead, he stayed in her room, gripping a baseball bat and vowing to protect her if anyone came.
The night passed in an eerie silence. The mob outside had grown tired of shouting, and for once, Alison's house seemed still. That's how both siblings heard the faint creak of someone breaking in just after 1 a.m.
Alison's heart raced as she clutched the closet doors. Jason stood near the entrance, his baseball bat ready. "Stay in there," he whispered, his voice tense. They waited for the intruder to enter.
The door swung open, and Jason swung the bat—narrowly missing Toby, who ducked just in time.
"What the hell?!" Toby scrambled back, hand on his holster before realizing who stood before him.
Jason blinked, lowering the bat. "Toby?"
Alison, hearing the familiar voice, bolted out of the closet. "Toby! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"I didn't mean to scare you," Toby apologized, catching his breath. "Tanner had me stuck with paperwork all night. I only just got away."
"She's trying to keep you from digging too deep," Alison muttered, finally calming down. "Typical."
"She can stall me, but she can't stop Caleb," Toby continued, regaining his composure. "He tracked down A's delivery system. They've been ordering supplies and having them delivered to a warehouse just outside Rosewood. A takes the goods from there to a secondary location, which we've pinpointed to Tyler State Park."
Alison's eyes lit up. "That's our way in!"
Jason frowned, still holding his bat. "Ali, you're not seriously thinking of sneaking in there yourself, are you? This is insanely dangerous."
"The cops are stalling," Toby cut in before Alison could respond. "Tanner doesn't want to waste resources chasing four criminals, and she never liked any of us."
"That's right," Alison added. "We need to move before A relocates or… before they get to me."
Jason, sensing his sister's fear, let out a long sigh before nodding. "Fine. But I'm in too."
"Jason, you don't have too—" Alison opened her mouth to object, but Toby spoke first. "Actually, we could use the help. Ezra has a surveillance room. You'll be able to monitor us and call for help if we need it."
Jason crossed his arms. "So you're going to sneak in disguised as a delivery?"
Alison smirked and remembered the Trojan War. "Worked for the Greeks."
"Great, it's settled then," Toby said. "Now, Alison, hand over your monitoring device."
Her eyebrow arched. "What for?"
"We need to get rid of it. Caleb is spoofing the signal, but only for a few minutes. You're a sitting duck with that thing on," Toby said as he crouched down to inspect the ankle monitor. "With the mob outside and A watching, it's too dangerous."
Jason and Alison exchanged glances, realizing he was right. Alison sat down, revealing the device strapped to her ankle. "Where are we going?"
"Ezra's cabin," Toby replied, working to free her from the device. "No one knows about it, not even Tanner. You and Jason can lie low until we're ready."
Once the device was cracked open, Alison and Jason scrambled to pack what little they could. As they snuck out through the back door, the mob outside remained oblivious—except for one person. Wilden, hidden in the crowd, kept his eyes on the house. He hadn't noticed them yet, but Alison knew they were only safe for now.
Convicted Killer Alison DiLaurentis Escapes Parole, On the Run
Alison DiLaurentis, convicted of the brutal murder of former classmate Mona Vanderwaal, is on the run, authorities confirmed today. DiLaurentis, who had been granted parole pending a prison transfer, severed her ankle monitor within hours of release and vanished from her family's home, evading both law enforcement and the throng of protesters gathered outside.
Her brother, Jason DiLaurentis, is believed to have assisted in the escape. Despite heavy police presence, the two slipped through unnoticed. The Rosewood Police Department has launched an immediate manhunt.
DiLaurentis' father, Kenneth, expressed disdain when asked about his daughter's whereabouts, stating coldly, "She's not my responsibility anymore."
This escape adds another chapter to a case that has captivated the nation. Alison DiLaurentis was found guilty of Vanderwaal's murder, but she and her legal team maintained her innocence throughout the trial, insisting she had been framed. Parole was granted after claims of harassment within her previous prison.
Vanderwaal's mother, Leona Vanderwaal, voiced her outrage: "Once again, justice fails. My daughter's killer is out there. It's a disgrace."
DiLaurentis' former friends, Spencer Hastings, Hanna Marin, Aria Montgomery, and Emily Fields, all implicated as accomplices, remain incarcerated, with their locations undisclosed for security reasons.
Authorities continue to search for DiLaurentis, though the trail grows colder by the hour.
Emily had been awake for two days straight, her body trembling from both the cold and the rising panic. Wilden had turned down the temperature in her cell, leaving her in a near-constant shiver. The walls felt like they were closing in on her as exhaustion gnawed at her mind, twisting her thoughts.
She had long lost track of time when the door creaked open again. Was it night? Day? She didn't know anymore. Wilden sauntered into the room, his boots heavy on the floor, and sat at the edge of her bed — far too close. Emily's body tensed instinctively, pressing back against the frame, her eyes darting toward him, every muscle taut with dread.
"You know," he started, his voice casual as though they were old friends, "I think I was wrong about Alison."
Emily's breath hitched.
"She doesn't care about any of you," he continued, his voice laced with false contemplation.
"What are you talking about?" Emily forced the words out, her throat tight with fatigue.
Wilden's eyes gleamed with sick satisfaction as he leaned forward. "She ran. From Rosewood. Broke her ankle monitor and disappeared."
Emily's heart pounded in her chest, confusion warring with disbelief. "You're lying," she spat, her voice hoarse but fierce.
"Am I?" His smirk deepened, a predator savoring his prey. "She had her chance to stay. But she ran. Left everything behind."
"She ran because of you!" Emily shot back, her voice trembling. Her mind swirled with anger, confusion, and terror.
"Maybe," he mused, standing up slowly as though he had all the time in the world. "Or maybe she never really cared about anyone at all."
For a moment, his tone softened into something almost wistful, but Emily couldn't find any pity for him. Not after everything he had done. Not after he'd torn her world apart.
"You don't know her," Emily growled, fury and desperation surging through her. "She loved—"
"The thing is," Wilden interrupted, cutting her off as he straightened his jacket, "now I don't know what to do with all of you. I'll have to think about that."
He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Emily in a frozen storm of doubt and fear. Alone, shivering, and unsure of what to believe anymore.
Alison inhaled deeply, feeling the tight, confined walls of the delivery box pressing in on her. Toby, Caleb, Ezra, and she had squeezed themselves into separate containers, waiting for Jason to complete the handoff to A. They had spent days crafting this plan, but now, in the darkness of the box, the reality of the risk began to sink in.
The plan, if it worked, would take them straight into A's lair. Each of them hidden inside a delivery box, passed off by Jason at a warehouse just outside Rosewood. From there, they hoped to be transported directly to the dollhouse, where the girls were trapped. Once inside, they would escape and finally end this nightmare.
Toby had been the one to design the boxes, with hidden mechanisms that allowed them to open from the inside, ensuring they weren't trapped once delivered. Caleb, of course, had upgraded Ezra's surveillance system, ensuring constant communication with Jason. With the in-ear communicators, they'd be able to respond quickly if A caught on.
Alison, meanwhile, had focused on the details: ensuring they wore light clothing to avoid suspicion about the weight, and perfecting Jason's disguise. Every part had to be flawless—there could be no room for mistakes.
(Meanwhile, Ezra had no good idea to contribute)
A distorted voice cut through the tension. "Finally, you're here," it said. Alison's heart raced. The voice was hauntingly familiar, but she couldn't place it. Of course, A had always been someone they knew—that much was inevitable.
The handoff was ordinary. They talked about price ranges and logistics and Jason held that spectacularly well. A put them in the back of a vehicle that Alison assumed was a truck and then took off.
Alison held her breath, the musty air growing thin. They were on the move now, getting closer to the dollhouse with each second.
Suddenly, Jason's voice crackled through their earpieces, low and urgent. "Guys," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's him."
Alison's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about, Jason?"
"It's Wilden," Jason said, his voice taut with disbelief. "He's A. He just picked up the boxes. I saw him."
A stunned silence fell over the group. Alison felt the blood drain from her face. Caleb muttered something under his breath, while Ezra and Toby shifted uncomfortably, trying to process the bombshell Jason had just dropped.
"No," Alison whispered, her mind spinning. "It can't be him. He's dead!"
"I'm telling you, Ali. It was Wilden," Jason pressed. "He didn't even try to hide his face."
Alison's breath caught. Of all the people it could have been, Wilden had haunted them for years—but him being A felt like a cruel twist of fate. "Are you sure he didn't recognize you?"
Jason hesitated. "He didn't. I made sure of it and your disguise was great. But I'm telling you—Wilden is the one behind this."
Toby spoke up, his voice cold and focused. "We stick to the plan. We can't risk anything right now."
Alison nodded to herself, her mind still racing but locked into the mission. "We'll deal with him later. Right now, we get the girls out."
Jason's voice came back, resolute. "Be careful in there. I'm running back to the surveillance room so I can keep an eye on you."
The line went silent again, leaving them to the suffocating darkness, all with the knowledge that their enemy wasn't just a shadow anymore—it was Wilden. Suddenly, it all clicked inside Ali's head: their encounter on Cape May which Alison only now recognizes she had been groomed; Wilden moving to Rosewood and suddenly becoming involved with her missing case. Alison watched a lot of that unfold from afar. She regrets getting involved with Wilden up to this day. Maybe then the girls would be alright.
Alison had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even realize Toby had opened her delivery box, offering a hand to help her out.
"Come on, Ali, we need to move quickly," Toby urged, pulling her out of the box.
"Guys, I think you're about to enter the dollhouse," Jason's voice crackled through her in-ear communicator, cutting through the fog of her thoughts.
Suddenly, the truck lurched to a halt, causing them to stumble inside the vehicle. They exchanged anxious glances; their plan had seemed flawless, but reality often twisted expectations in unexpected ways.
"Stand back," Toby said, his voice steady as he drew his gun.
In tense silence, they waited as Wilden opened the back of the truck. The moment the doors swung wide, Wilden's expression shifted from confusion to shock, realizing he had been outmaneuvered.
Toby didn't hesitate. He shot.
Alison's heart raced as the sound of the gunshot echoed in the confined space of the truck. She barely registered the way Wilden's body jerked back, eyes wide in disbelief and then devoid of life.
Game over, Wilden.
"Now, let's move!" Toby commanded, urgency lacing his tone. He swung himself out of the truck, gun raised and scanning for any lingering dangers. Alison followed, adrenaline surging through her veins.
As they jumped down onto the gravel, the familiar outline of the dollhouse loomed ahead, sending a jolt of fear through Alison. This was it—the place where their friends had been trapped, a twisted symbol of everything they had fought against.
She shuddered, not knowing what to expect when she finally found Emily again.
"Alison!" Caleb called, his voice cutting through her daze. He pointed toward the door of the dollhouse. "We need to get inside!"
Alison nodded, shaking off her dread. They sprinted toward the entrance, knowing A had to be nearby, but as they approached, she suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over her—there was no sign of A. Wilden was down for good.
"Is it clear?" she asked, glancing back at Toby, who was still alert but relaxed slightly.
"Looks like it," Toby replied, lowering his gun. "Wilden's out. We have a chance."
"On three, then," Ezra said, her voice steady. "One... two... three!"
They burst through the door, ready to confront whatever awaited them inside the dollhouse. Determination propelled them down several rows of stairs, far below American civilization, until they stumbled upon Wilden's surveillance room, fully equipped with cameras and speakers.
Caleb quickly sank into an office chair, scanning the screens. Four cameras flickered to life, revealing Emily, Aria, Spencer, and Hanna, each trapped in their respective rooms.
"Girls, can you hear me?" Caleb spoke into the mic, but his voice fell flat. He quickly activated the audio again. "Girls, we're here!"
All at once, the girls turned to their cameras, their expressions shifting from confusion to horror. Alison's heart shattered for them.
"Shut up, Wilden! I'm done with your tricks!" Hanna screamed, disheveled, her hair a mess, purple bruises marring her skin. "When I get out, you're so dead!"
"Hanna, it's me!" Caleb pleaded. "Can't you hear my voice?!"
"I'm not falling for that trick again!" Hanna slammed the door. "Let me out, you coward!"
"It's me, Hanna!" Caleb insisted, but Alison quickly pulled him back, her mind racing.
"Wilden must've used our voices to mess with their heads," she said grimly. "They won't believe anything we say."
"Then how do we convince them we're here to save them?" Ezra asked, anxiety threading through his tone.
"There's not much time," Toby reminded them. "Jason's already called the police. They'll be here any second."
Alison envisioned the chaotic scene: four traumatized young women running loose while an ex-con, a cop, the neighborhood hacker, and an English teacher tried to chase them around.
"How do we know for sure it's you?" Aria asked, her voice laced with hope. Despite her messy hair and bruises, she seemed the most composed.
Spencer looked pale and disoriented, heightening their urgency. Meanwhile, Emily barely glanced at the camera, curled up against her bed frame.
Taking a deep breath, Alison took control of the mic. "We're going to open the doors so you're free to go. You don't have to be scared anymore. We're here to save you. Toby, Ezra, Caleb, and me—Alison. Please, trust that you'll be fine."
Ezra eyed her warily. "Are you sure? They could bolt and then we'd have to track them down again."
"The police will be here soon. I trust they'll come to us," Alison reassured him, her resolve solidifying.
Caleb and Toby nodded in agreement, and with a swift motion, Caleb opened the doors using Wilden's system.
Hanna was the first to leave. She bolted out of her room, fueled by adrenaline, ready to unleash her pent-up fury on Wilden. When she found the hallway empty, confusion swept over her until her gaze locked onto Caleb.
"It's really you!" she sobbed, rushing into his arms.
Caleb wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Let's get out of here, Han," he whispered against her hair, relief flooding through him.
She pulled away slightly, her expression serious. "Not until we find Mona first. She's alive!"
"I thought she was with one of you," Caleb argued, frowning. "We saw footage of her alive in here, then we managed to track you all the way down."
"What about Wilden?" Hanna pressed, her determination unwavering.
"Wilden's gone," Caleb replied with a smile. "You're finally free."
Hanna didn't smile in return. "Great, but I need to find Mona. Wilden really hurt her."
Caleb sighed, recognizing the depth of her concern. "Okay, but I'm going with you."
They both left in search of Mona. Shortly after, Aria emerged from her room, cautiously assessing the surroundings. Ezra enveloped her in a hug when they reunited.
"Let's leave!" he urged.
"Wait!" Aria halted him. "Spencer is in tough shape. I don't think she can make it out of here."
The words sent a wave of dread through them all. Alison's heart sank; she would forever blame herself if they lost Spencer to this monster. Yet, she chose to cling to hope that her friend would pull through.
"I'm going to pick her up," Toby declared. "Where's her room?"
"I'm not sure," Aria frowned, her brow furrowing. "We weren't allowed to see each other, only through a computer screen. I had no idea where any of them were until now."
"What about Emily?" Alison interjected. "Is she okay?"
"Spencer and I tried to protect her, Ali," Aria said, worry etching her features. "Wilden targeted her because she was closest to you."
"Why hasn't she left her room yet?!" Alison pressed, anxiety bubbling within her.
"Wilden made her believe you had left town," Aria replied, sorrow in her eyes. "He told us all the same story."
"I did make it seem like I was leaving, but only because I was going after you guys," Alison explained, guilt creeping in.
"I know that now, but maybe Emily still has her doubts," Aria suggested gently, her tone understanding.
Ezra tugged at Aria's wrist. "We need to leave. The police are close, and they need medical help."
"Okay, I'll look for Emily," Alison warned them before stepping into the dark halls of the dollhouse.
Alison shivered as she wandered through the dim, cold halls of the dollhouse, the oppressive silence echoing the pain Wilden had inflicted on her friends. Each step she took felt heavy with memories of their suffering, but relief surged within her as she reminded herself that soon they would all be safe. A would no longer hold power over their lives.
Still, a nagging feeling lingered in her gut — their recovery would be an uphill battle.
Suddenly, she heard small gasps echoing down the hall. Following the sound, she reached Emily's room, a chilling replica of her actual space at home. Inside, she found Emily curled up against the bed frame, shivering and sobbing, her breaths quick and shallow. The coldness of the room was almost palpable, intensifying the isolation.
"Em," Alison called softly, careful not to startle her. "I'm here."
Emily looked up, eyes wide with fear, as if she were staring at a ghost. "No, you're not real," she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can't be real. Wilden told me you had run away. You left me, Ali. Jesus, I'm talking to a hallucination."
Alison's heart broke at the sight of Emily in such despair. "It's really me, Em. I promise," she said, stepping closer. "Wilden is gone. You're safe now. Please, let me help you."
She stepped closer, but the movement startled Emily. "No, don't move!"
Alison quickly threw her hands in the air, understanding the urgency of winning Emily's trust. "Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"You never mean to hurt me, but you ended up hurting me anyway," Emily muttered, still lost in disbelief. "You let me kiss you and then pushed me away. You faked your death and left me. And now you've left town at the first chance you got while I'm here losing my mind, worried that Wilden might get to you."
Tears brimmed in Alison's eyes. "I'm sorry, Em. I promise you, the second we get out of here, I'm going to do better. No one will ever hurt you again."
Emily shook her head, her voice laced with despair. "I'm never leaving this place! Wilden's made sure of it."
"You can, Em! I'm here to save you," Alison insisted, voice raw with urgency. "I broke an ankle monitor to get here. Tanner probably has the whole town after me right now, and once this is over, she'll probably throw me back in jail. But if it means you'll be safe, it'll all be worth it."
Emily sobbed, her heart caught between the intensity of Ali's words and the nagging belief that this was just another of Wilden's twisted tricks—or even worse, a hallucination. Her eyes stayed locked on Alison, searching for something she wasn't even sure she'd recognize anymore.
"Prove it," she challenged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Prove you're real. Say something only you and I would know."
Alison's shoulders sagged as she took a steadying breath. She knew what Emily needed, and she also knew the risk. Wilden had stolen so much from them already—how could she be sure he didn't know all the secrets they'd once shared?
Then, the memory came to her. Soft, private, and hidden far from Wilden's reach.
"You're so beautiful, my Mermaid," Alison murmured, her voice trembling just enough that Emily could hear.
Emily sobbed. Alison had whispered that to her that one night they spent together. Towards the end, after Emily had come undone, Alison had whispered that phrase in her ear, making the brunette gasp and choke on her own feelings. Then, she had pulled Alison in for another bruising kiss before the blonde settled down on her chest and fell asleep.
That was something Wilden could never have known, and yet Emily couldn't shake the feeling that it was foolish to let herself hope.
"I'm just daydreaming," she muttered, swallowing the knot in her throat. "There's no way she could actually be here."
"Emily!" Alison's voice had a new edge to it, the urgency of knowing they couldn't linger here. She sat down beside Emily on the bed, her sudden closeness startling the other girl.
"This… can't be real." Emily's voice was thin with doubt, but her eyes betrayed a spark of something fragile—something that Alison was determined to make real. She extended her hand slowly, gentling her voice. "Emily, sweetheart, give me your hand."
Hesitantly, Emily nodded, and Alison took her hand, tracing each line on her palm, her touch warm against Emily's cold skin. Alison intertwined their fingers, squeezing gently. "Feel me," she whispered, grounding Emily in her touch.
A soft gasp escaped Emily as warmth spread through her chest. Ali's hand was soft, gentle—a rare comfort that Emily couldn't remember feeling, even before the dollhouse. But doubt still tugged at her, and she moved closer, pressing their foreheads together, letting her face linger near Alison's, feeling her soft breaths warm her cheeks.
Emily's fingertips trembled as she traced each of Alison's features—the familiar arch of her brows, the delicate slope of her nose, the gentle curve of her cheekbones. She moved down to Alison's chin and her mouth, and every touch pulled her deeper into the reality that Alison was truly here, more real than any dream. The disbelief finally began to melt away.
Alison was real. Alison had come to save her.
"You're real," Emily whispered, her eyes filling with tears—happy, exhausted tears. She let her fingers trail through Alison's soft, golden hair, drinking in every detail. "I've missed you so much."
Emily pulled Alison close, hugging her with all the strength she could gather. Alison held her tightly, heart aching at how thin and frail Emily felt beneath her touch, her skin cold against Alison's warmth.
"My God, Emily, you're shivering," she murmured, instinctively rubbing Emily's back. Guilt stung—she hadn't thought to bring a jacket. Instead, she continued rubbing warmth into her back, desperate to offer whatever comfort she could. "We need to get you out of here."
Emily shook her head, exhaustion weighing down her voice. "I don't think I can stand, Ali. I'm so sorry…"
For a brief moment, Alison wished she had the strength to carry Emily out entirely. But she took a steadying breath and focused on what she could do.
"It's okay," Alison said softly, standing up and offering her hand to Emily. "I've got you. We'll do this together."
Emily took her hand, legs wobbling as she stood, her weight barely supported. Alison wrapped her arm around Emily's waist, steadying her. Together, they made their way toward the exit, leaning into each other with each shaky step.
The fresh air hit their faces as they staggered out, and they both paused, breathing it in. For the first time, they felt a sense of safety settle over them.
Thoughts? Yes, the dollhouse and the A plots are pretty much over. Now, the story will be all about their healing journeys.