Veronica's voice was taut with impatience and authority. Harper's heart slammed in her chest. She barely had a moment to slam the book shut and slide it back onto the desk before the metallic scrape of the door handle echoed through the cramped office.
Outside, Veronica pressed her lean body firmly against the door, her posture rigid, eyes scanning down the dim hallway.
Her breathing was shallow but steady, her gaze sharp as a blade. She raised a finger to her lips—a silent command for Harper to be still.
Harper's pulse thundered in her ears as she crouched low, every nerve alert to the approaching footsteps—slow, heavy, deliberate, growing nearer. The faint echo of distant voices filtered down the corridor, punctuated by the rhythmic tapping of a patrol's boots.
Veronica's jaw clenched, the edge of her lips twitching into a grim line. She shifted slightly, leaning into the door, ready to block it if needed.
Harper swallowed the lump in her throat and reached out, fingertips brushing the cold doorknob. Slowly, cautiously, she turned it, the metal cool and heavy beneath her grip.
Veronica eased the door open a crack, peeking down the hallway before slipping into the shadows. Harper slipped out behind her, their footsteps light and quick, swallowed by the gloom.
As they moved down the corridor, the faint hum of machinery and distant muffled voices pressed in on Harper, a reminder of the camp's unforgiving surveillance. Yet beneath the cold, harsh exterior, something fierce sparked in her chest—a stubborn flicker of hope, a resolve hardened by grief and desperation.
They slipped quietly down the dim hallway, Veronica's footsteps confident and sure, Harper's lighter, almost hesitant.
At last, Veronica nudged open a heavy door with a soft creak and motioned Harper inside. The room was small, cluttered with old filing cabinets and dusty chairs—a forgotten corner of the camp where no one would think to look.
Veronica shut the door behind them and leaned against it, crossing her arms. Her sharp eyes immediately searched Harper's face.
"So? What'd you find?"
Harper swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It said she was taken to some behavioural unit outside of town. A place for kids who don't... really behave." Her lips pressed into a thin line as the weight of the news settled.
Veronica didn't look surprised. "Figures. Riley was acting out hard before she left. Lots of fights, refusing to do what they said. I thought it was only a matter of time before they shipped her off somewhere worse. I didn't think this place could get any worse though."
Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of sympathy beneath the tough exterior.
Harper's eyes flicked away. Veronica's gaze softened, noticing the tight line of Harper's mouth and the shadow behind her eyes. "Hey," Veronica said quietly, stepping closer, "Did you... have feelings for her? Like, really? You're acting all messed up about it."
Harper's cheeks flushed, a nervous heat creeping up her neck. She bit her lip, unsure how much to say.
"I don't know. Maybe? Or maybe I just liked that she paid attention to me when no one else did. It felt... nice. Like I mattered. But I can't tell if it was real or just because I was lonely."
Veronica studied her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"You're hopeless, Baldwin!" she teased, nudging Harper's shoulder.
"Always overthinking everything. You're pretty enough that half the camp probably wanted to be with you."
Veronica shifted her weight against the cold wall, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes flicked toward Harper with a mixture of curiosity and something softer, almost reluctant to say aloud. After a beat, she spoke, her voice low and almost hesitant.
"You know...sometimes I actually envy you."
Harper blinked, caught off guard. "Me? You envy me?" She let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head slightly as if to clear the strange notion.
"Why?"
Veronica said, her tone softening as she met Harper's gaze. "Because you actually got out. You're not stuck in this place, this nightmare anymore. You've got a whole world and life waiting for you beyond these fences now."
Harper's laugh turned more genuine but still carried a sharp edge. "My life? Far from normal. If you think this—" she gestured vaguely toward the dim room around them "—is bad, you should see what I'm walking into."
Veronica smirked, eyes sparkling with a teasing light. "Not surprised. I heard you come from one of those rich families. You know, horses, caviar, fancy dinners. The whole 'perfect life' package."
Harper shook her head, the corners of her mouth twitching into an actual smile.
"I don't even like caviar."
Veronica's expression softened, and for the first time since they'd met, she let down her guard just a little.
"I just got out of juvie.." Harper said, words heavy. "For trying to kill my grandmother."
Veronica's eyes widened, the teasing spark replaced by genuine shock. "Jesus. Why?"
Harper looked away, biting her lip to stop the tremor in her voice. "Because she sent me here... this camp. She hated me. Hated who I was. Who I am. I couldn't take it anymore. Not the pain. Not the silence. Not feeling like I belonged anywhere."
The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the flickering fluorescent light. Veronica's gaze softened even more, sympathy creeping through her usual tough exterior.
"Sounds like we're both kind of screwed up." Veronica said finally, a shadow of a smile curling her lips. "Maybe that's why we get along—two messed-up girls stuck in the same nightmare."
Harper met her smile with a flicker of hope in her own eyes. The fragile thread of connection between them felt real for the first time, binding them together in the darkness.
"Yeah.." Harper said softly. "Maybe."
Veronica's eyes hardened with determination as she pushed off the wall.
"Alright. Enough talking. Let's get you out of here."
They slipped back into the boiler room, the stale, damp air thick around them. The metal hatch loomed ahead, its rusted edges barely visible in the weak light. Beyond it lay the woods—freedom, or at least a chance at it.
Harper stopped just short of the hatch, her breath coming fast. She glanced at Veronica, whose usually sharp eyes now flickered with something heavier. Fear and guilt tangled in an uneasy knot.
"I'm going out this way.." Harper said softly, stepping closer. "You need to come with me."
Veronica's eyes darted away, her jaw tightening.
"I can't." she said quietly but firmly. "If they catch me sneaking out.. it'll be worse for me than it is for you. And I can't just leave the others here."
Harper's brows knit together. "You mean Claire and the others?"
Veronica nodded, voice cracking just slightly. "Yeah. They're all stuck in that nightmare, and I—"
She swallowed hard, biting the inside of her cheek. "I'm the one who suggested this, who promised I'd look out for them after this. How do I just walk away now?"
Her usual bossy edge was gone, replaced by a raw vulnerability that Harper hadn't seen before.
Harper hesitated, watching Veronica's shoulders tense as if the weight of every girl still trapped in camp was pressing down on her. The flickering fluorescent light made Veronica's eyes glisten.
Without thinking, Harper reached up and placed her hands gently on Veronica's cheeks. The contact sent a jolt through both of them. Harper hated being touched—everything about it screamed vulnerability—but this moment called for something much braver.
"Look at me." Harper whispered, voice trembling but steady. "You can come. We get out together. You're not alone in this. You'll never get this opportunity again if you don't come with me now."
Veronica's breath hitched. She stared at Harper's hands on her face—steady, sure, warm—and for a long moment, the fear and guilt warred inside her. The desperate need to protect the others clashed with the raw survival instinct screaming to run.
"I don't want to leave them.." Veronica confessed, voice breaking. "But if I stay, I'll just end up broken like them. And then who's left to help?"
Harper squeezed her cheeks softly, offering what little strength she could.
"You're not leaving them behind forever, okay? We get out now, we find help and we come back for them."
Veronica's lips trembled, and her fierce facade cracked just enough to let a flicker of hope in.
"Alright." she whispered, voice barely audible but filled with determination.
"Let's get out of here."
Harper released her hands but kept close. Together, they pushed the hatch open, a rush of cold night air flooding in like a promise. The wet earth waited beneath, dark and wild.
Hands almost touching, they climbed out side by side, stepping carefully but with purpose into the freedom of the woods—and the uncertain future waiting beyond.