Samantha woke with the rising sun painting lines across her ceiling. She blinked once. Twice.
Everything felt too quiet. Even the birds outside seemed hesitant.
Like the world was holding its breath.
The room hadn't changed.
White walls. A dresser that locked. Her blanket thin, tucked too tightly.
It wasn't a prison, technically—but it didn't feel like anything else either.
Her body ached with the weight of routine.
Breakfast. Meds. Group therapy. Walk. Repeat.
She hated how normal it was starting to feel.
But today…
Today, she couldn't stop thinking about the words that haunted her sleep.
"He's coming."
The hooded figure hadn't shown up again.
No shadow in the corner. No whisper in the air.
But the chill he left behind? That still clung to her skin like a second layer.
She hated it.
Hated the mystery.
Hated not knowing.
Hated feeling like something was coming and being powerless to stop it.
But she kept moving. Because what else was there to do?
---
Recess.
That's what she called it now.
Every afternoon, they were allowed into the courtyard to sit on benches, pretend the fences weren't there, and feel the sun on their skin.
It was almost enough to make you forget the doors locked behind you.
Almost.
Samantha sat cross-legged beneath a crooked tree, face tilted toward the light.
She let her mind wander, just for a second. Just far enough to wonder what Ron was doing.
If he still thought about her.
If he believed her.
"Sam," Kayla's voice was soft, like she knew to tread gently.
Samantha blinked and looked up.
The nurse offered a small smile. "You have a visitor."
A hollow opened in Sam's chest.
"Who?" she asked carefully.
Kayla stepped aside without answering.
And then—
There she was.
Her mother.
Samantha's stomach twisted.
She stood, stiff, arms folded tightly across her chest. Dressed neatly, as always. Makeup subtle but perfect.
Like she had some control over her life.
Like she hadn't locked her daughter in a place she couldn't leave.
Samantha's throat closed.
"No," she said firmly. "I don't want to see her."
Kayla's smile faded. "Sam…"
"Tell her I'm not available. I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to see her. She made her decision."
There was no tremble in her voice.
Only finality.
Kayla paused, clearly torn, then nodded and walked away.
Samantha didn't look back.
But she felt her mother's stare long after she was gone.
---
Dinner came and went.
The fog of meds settled over the ward like dusk.
Samantha sat on her bed, sketching random lines in the corner of a crossword puzzle she never actually intended to finish.
Her thoughts flicked again to the hooded figure.
To the phrase.
"He's coming."
She scoffed under her breath. "Yeah? When?"
A knock at the door pulled her out of the spiral.
Kayla poked her head in, this time looking both ways before stepping inside.
"I wasn't supposed to… but I thought you'd want this," she said quietly.
She held out a folded piece of paper.
Samantha stared.
No one had ever written her anything.
No one even could.
"Where did you get that?" she whispered, already rising to take it.
"It was left at the front desk. No name. Just said it was for you."
Kayla hesitated. "You don't have to read it now, but… you should."
Samantha didn't speak.
Just nodded.
Kayla gave her a tight smile and slipped away.
For a long moment, Samantha stood frozen.
Paper in hand. Breath shallow.
The hallway outside ticked with distant footsteps and soft murmurs.
She sat down slowly.
Her fingers shook as she unfolded it.
It was short.
Just one line.
"I'm coming to get you. Stay strong. Stay safe."
Her heart cracked open.
There was no name. No signature.
But she knew.
She knew.
It was Ron.
Because who else would write something so reckless? So brave? So stupid and so perfectly him?
Her chest ached with the sharp sting of relief.
Of being seen. Of being believed.
Tears welled up, but she wiped them away fast.
If anyone saw, they'd think she was losing it again.
She folded the note neatly and tucked it under her pillow.
Then sat back, eyes wide in the dark.
He was coming.
She didn't know how.
Didn't know when.
But he was coming.
And for the first time in days—maybe weeks—
Samantha Brooke smiled.