For a long moment, the boy didn't move. His wide eyes remained fixed on Nina, tracking her every movement with the careful caution only frightened children possess. The wariness in his gaze spoke of experiences no child should have. He looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.
Nina noticed. She'd seen that look before… on her own face, years ago, reflected in bathroom mirrors after particularly difficult nights.
So instead of moving closer, she lowered herself to the floor several feet away and leaned her head back against the wall. The cool surface offered some relief from the pounding in her skull.
"There," she murmured quietly, keeping her voice soft and unthreatening."See? I'm staying right here."
The boy's shoulders remained tense, drawn up almost to his ears. But when she didn't approach him, when she simply sat there in the dim light, his breathing gradually steadied. The rigid set of his small frame began to ease, just slightly.
Nina closed her eyes, grateful for the darkness. The alcohol from earlier still throbbed behind her temples like a relentless hammer. Her entire body ached from exhaustion… the kind of bone-deep weariness that came from pretending to be someone else for too long. Tonight had been brutal, even by her standards.
Claire had practically dragged her from table to table all evening, parading her before investors and producers who treated actresses like decorative accessories to be admired and discarded. Beautiful objects with no thoughts worth hearing.
Smile.
Laugh at their mediocre jokes.
Drink whatever they poured.
Smile again, wider this time.
By the time she escaped upstairs, Nina felt like her skull might split open. The fake laughter still echoed in her ears, making her nauseous."Just a few minutes," she muttered under her breath, her words slurring slightly.
"Just let me rest for a minute…"
The music from the nightclub below vibrated faintly through the floorboards, a distant pulse that matched the throbbing in her head.
Somewhere in the distance, people cheered, and glasses clinked in celebration. They were living their best lives, or at least pretending to.
But in the dark storeroom, surrounded by forgotten supplies and broken dreams, things slowly grew quiet. The chaos of the party felt worlds away.
And before she realized it… before she could stop herself, Nina fell asleep, her breathing falling into rhythm with the small boy's across the room.
When she woke again, warmth pressed against her leg. For a second, she thought she was still dreaming… caught in some half-remembered memory of comfort and safety. Then she blinked and looked down.
The boy had moved at some point while she slept, shuffling closer in the darkness. He now sat beside her, curled against her leg like a small animal seeking warmth in the cold. One of his tiny hands clutched the edge of her shirt.
Nina froze, her breath catching. Then she couldn't help it… a soft laugh slipped from her lips, quiet and unexpected. "Well… will you look at that?"
She kept her voice low, careful not to startle him. The boy noticed she was awake immediately. His head lifted, and for a brief second, panic flashed across his face… that same wild fear she'd seen earlier.
But when Nina didn't move, didn't reach for him or make any sudden gestures, the fear slowly faded into something else. Curiosity.
His dark eyes studied her carefully, searching her face for signs of danger.
Nina tilted her head, meeting his gaze with gentle amusement. "You know," she said softly, "you remind me of a cat I used to have."
The boy blinked. Still silent. Still watching.
Nina's smile turned wistful. "I grew up in a little farming town for a few years." Her voice carried the weight of distant memories. "We had this stray kitten that showed up one winter, half-starved and scared of its own shadow."
She glanced down at the boy, seeing the same wariness in his expression."Same look in its eyes," she murmured.
She lifted her hands slightly in surrender, showing him she meant no harm. "It was terrified of people. Wouldn't let anyone within ten feet."
The boy watched her closely, his small chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"But if you pretended not to notice it," Nina continued, her tone gentle and unhurried, "eventually it would creep closer." She chuckled quietly at the memory. "Then one day it just… climbed into my lap like it had always lived there. Like it had finally decided I was safe."
The boy's fingers tightened slightly on her shirt… a small, unconscious gesture of trust.
Nina noticed, but she pretended she hadn't, keeping her gaze fixed on the middle distance."Guess you're the same type," she said softly, almost to herself.
Finally, she reached out. Slowly. Carefully. Her hand rested gently on the boy's head, and his hair was unbelievably soft beneath her palm... finer than she'd expected.
For a moment, he stiffened, every muscle tensing, but he didn't pull away. He stayed there, trembling slightly but holding his ground.
Nina's heart squeezed unexpectedly."Good kid," she whispered. Then her smile disappeared instantly. Her hand had barely brushed his forehead before she froze, her fingers registering what her eyes had missed.
"…Wait."
She touched him again, pressing her palm more firmly against his skin. This time more carefully. His skin was burning… radiating heat that no child should carry.
"Oh no…"Nina's expression changed immediately, softness replaced by sharp concern."You're running a fever," she said, her voice tight with worry.
The boy blinked weakly. Up close, she could see it now… the slight flush coloring his cheeks, the way his breathing came shallow and uneven."How long have you been like this?" she asked softly.
Of course, he didn't answer.
Nina cursed under her breath, anger flaring hot in her chest. Claire had locked her in here, knowing full well no one would check this room until morning. If the boy stayed trapped in this stifling heat all night with a fever climbing… Her stomach twisted with dread at the thought.
"That's not happening," she muttered, more to herself than to him.
Nina stood slowly, her knees protesting, and surveyed the storage room with fresh urgency. Most of it was stacked with liquor boxes and spare equipment… useless for their situation. But then something caught her eye. A narrow strip of pale light spilled down from above, cutting through the dusty air.
"…What's that?"She squinted upward, hope sparking in her chest.
There… a small skylight near the ceiling. It wasn't large, barely more than a ventilation window. But it might be just big enough for a child to squeeze through.
Nina dragged a metal ladder across the floor, muscles straining. The scraping noise echoed loudly in the confined space, making her wince. The boy watched her silently, his dark eyes tracking her movements with quiet intensity.
"Alright," Nina said, breathing hard as she positioned the ladder carefully beneath the window. She tested its stability with a firm shake.
She turned back to him, wiping sweat from her forehead."Come here, kid."
He didn't move, his small frame still pressed against the wall.
"Hey," she said more gently, softening her tone. "I'm trying to help you."
Still nothing. He simply stared at her with those unreadable eyes.
Nina crouched in front of him, bringing herself to his level. She needed him to understand."I know you don't trust me," she said quietly, meeting his gaze. "That's fair. I'm basically a stranger."
She pointed toward the skylight above. "But if you climb out that window, you can find someone to open the door. Get us both out of here."
The boy's eyes followed her gesture to the ladder. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
Nina sighed, frustration and concern warring within her."You're stubborn, you know that?"T
he boy's eyes lowered slightly, and something in his expression shifted. Then Nina realized something that made her breath catch. He didn't want to leave her behind. This sick, frightened child was more worried about abandoning her than saving himself.
The realization made her chest tighten with an emotion she couldn't quite name. She smiled softly despite everything and reached out to pinch his warm cheek gently."Kid… are you seriously worried about me?"
The boy looked away, a faint color rising in his already flushed face."That's sweet," she murmured, her voice thick. "Really sweet."
"But I'm the adult here." She lifted him carefully, surprised by how light he felt in her arms… all fragile bones and fever-warm skin. "You're lighter than a backpack." She placed him on the first rung of the ladder, keeping her hands steady on his waist.
He wobbled slightly but grabbed the metal bars with small, determined hands.Nina positioned herself behind him, one hand hovering protectively near his back.
"Climb," she encouraged, her voice warm with reassurance."You've got this. One step at a time."
The boy hesitated, his fingers tightening on the rung. Then, slowly, he began climbing. Each step was careful, deliberate. Nina kept one hand behind his back, ready to catch him if he faltered.
"That's it… you're doing great… almost there…"
By the time he reached the top, Nina was breathing hard, her heart pounding with anxiety. The fever radiating from his small body seemed to fill the air around them, making her worry spike even higher.
"Push the window open," she instructed gently.
The boy struggled for a moment, his thin arms straining against the skylight's resistance. Then the window creaked open with a groan of protest. Cool night air rushed inside like a blessing, carrying the scent of freedom. Stars glittered faintly in the dark expanse above.
"Good job," Nina said, pride warming her voice.
The boy crawled halfway out onto the roof, his small frame silhouetted against the night sky.
Nina looked up at him, her throat tight. "Now listen carefully," she said, her voice taking on a gravity she hadn't used before. "Find an adult. Security. Anyone who can help."
The boy stared down at her, and his expression shifted. That wary distance she'd grown accustomed to had vanished. In its place, something raw and unguarded flickered across his features.
Fear... for her.
The realization struck Nina with unexpected force. This child… this stranger she'd only just met, was worried about leaving her behind.
She forced a smile, hoping it looked more reassuring than it felt. "I'll be fine," she said softly. "I promise."
But just as she stepped back from the ladder, the dizziness hit without warning. The room spun violently, tilting on its axis. Her vision blurred, the edges going soft and unfocused.
"Oh..."Her legs gave out beneath her. Nina collapsed hard onto the floor, the impact jarring through her bones.
From the skylight above, the boy watched in horror, his small hands gripping the window frame. For the first time since Nina had met him, true panic flooded his face, stripping away the careful mask he'd worn.
"Go..." Nina whispered, her voice barely audible even to her own ears.
Those were the last words she managed to say. Her body felt impossibly heavy, as though gravity itself had doubled its pull. As darkness crept into the edges of her vision, memories flickered through her mind like fragments of a half-forgotten film.
The car crash… metal screaming, glass shattering, her own voice lost in the chaos. The hospital… sterile white walls, pitying looks from nurses who'd read the tabloids. The shame… a weight that had settled into her chest and never quite left.
After everything happened, the Hale family had quietly sent her overseas, disposing of their embarrassment with characteristic efficiency. They'd dumped her at a private rehabilitation university tucked away in Switzerland, one of those discreet institutions designed specifically for the troubled children of wealthy families. A place where scandals went to be forgotten.
They thought distance would erase what she'd done, that time and an ocean between them would make the whole mess disappear.
Instead, Nina had rebuilt herself from the ground up. She'd left that school the moment she turned twenty-one, walking away from their prescribed path without looking back. She enrolled in Westbridge University in California, choosing a place where nobody knew her name or her history.
There, she'd studied acting, film, script analysis, stage combat, voice work… absorbing everything she could with a hunger that surprised even her professors. She pushed herself harder than anyone else in her program, staying late in rehearsal rooms, memorizing scripts until dawn, perfecting accents until her throat went raw.
Because she had a promise to keep. One she'd whispered to herself on countless sleepless nights.
One day, she would come back. And when she did, she would take everything Lydia Hale had stolen from her.
Her name.
Her future.
Her dream of becoming an actress.
But right now… None of that mattered. As the darkness swallowed her vision completely, Nina only thought of one thing. If the child she lost years ago had lived… He would have been about this age.
A weak smile touched her lips.
"At least… I did one good thing tonight…"
Then the world went black.