(The morning after Ron yells at the empty room)
His fists still hurt when he woke up.
The dream clung to him—sharp and strange—like a splinter he couldn't dig out.
He sat up slowly, heart pounding for a reason he didn't yet remember.
Then—
It hit him.
Not just the dream.
The map.
The road.
The trees, the sign, the rusted gate with peeling white paint.
The symbol carved into the brick.
He could still see it—clear as day.
Like he'd been there.
Ron froze.
His breath caught.
His eyes went wide.
"Oh my god," he whispered.
He grabbed his sketchpad from the floor, flipping to a blank page.
Hands shaking, he began to draw.
Each stroke came faster.
Each line too familiar.
He didn't know how—but he knew.
He'd seen the way.
The Dream
It had started in a dark place.
Empty.
A hallway, white and flickering.
The floor was cold under his bare feet.
And at the end—
A door.
When he opened it, the wind rushed in.
Outside, the world was gray-blue and unreal.
He saw a forest—tall trees lining a narrow road.
A crooked sign leaning sideways: "Bridgeview Wellness Institute."
Somewhere in his mind, he knew that wasn't a real place.
But it didn't matter.
It was where she was.
And then—
He saw her.
Samantha stood on the other side of a tall wire fence.
Her eyes were dull. Her hair tangled.
She didn't see him—only looked through him, like she wasn't allowed to hope anymore.
Her hands were folded tightly in front of her chest.
She mouthed something.
He couldn't hear it.
But it looked like: "Don't forget."
Then—
The hooded figure appeared beside her.
Its face still hidden.
Its hand on her shoulder.
And the moment Ron tried to move, to scream, to reach through the fence—
The world shattered.
He woke up gasping.
Now
It was burned into his brain.
He knew that road. He could follow that sign.
Even if no GPS recognized it. Even if the name didn't exist.
He pulled out his laptop, digging through maps, records, mental health facility databases.
Bridgeview didn't show up.
But in a dusty corner of the county archives, he found something close.
"Bridgeline Inpatient Recovery Center."
Closed to the public. Not listed under standard referrals.
Private. Secluded. Gated.
Exactly the kind of place someone like Samantha's mother could quietly stash a daughter and make it disappear.
And it matched.
Right down to the crooked trees and rusted gate.
Ron stood so fast he knocked over his chair.
"She's there."
Later That Day
He didn't go to school.
He boarded a bus two towns over, took a long walk across the highway, and spent the rest of the day surveying the roads near the facility.
Every turn was familiar—because he had seen them before.
The closer he got, the more real the dream became.
There was the signpost.
There was the old van on blocks.
There was the trail behind the row of pine trees.
And then—
He saw it.
The fence.
High. Cold. Curved with barbed wire on top.
And behind it… the building.
Windowless, from the side he could see.
Clinical. Sanitized. Dead.
His breath caught.
He pressed closer to the trees, squinting through the branches.
There were figures walking inside.
All in white.
But he couldn't tell if she was there.
Still, he didn't need to.
He already knew.
Back at Home
Ron collapsed onto his bed, exhausted but electric.
He had it now.
The place. The route. The start.
He reached for his phone, opening a fresh note and typing everything out—timings, guard shift possibilities, blind spots on the north wall.
He'd figure out the rest.
Break-ins weren't just for spy movies.
He wasn't leaving her in there.
Not when he'd seen her like that.
Not when she'd looked so… hollow.
But One Question Wouldn't Leave Him Alone
As he sat back, staring at the glowing screen, a chill settled at the base of his spine.
He thought back to the hooded figure. The dream.
The silent message.
The way it had delivered all that knowledge without speaking.
It could've said it outright.
Could've told him the name. The address. The plan.
But it didn't.
It led him, like breadcrumbs on a haunted trail.
Why?
What did it want?
What did it gain?
His jaw clenched.
"Why couldn't this weirdo just tell me?"