I'M BREAKING.

I'VE broken many times already, and despite how much each time feels like it'll be the last, I'm still falling apart all over again. After another sleepless night, this is the conclusion I come to once morning rolls around. Hurting Audrey has made my heart shatter into a million pieces, though it's not like it was entirely together, even before all of this. I suppose she's better off without me, anyway. Everyone is.

My eyes burn when I finally drag myself out of bed, my head aching and my stomach sick. I've had all night to process what went down yesterday, but I don't feel any better about any of it. I'm desperate to apologize to Audrey, to get on my knees and plead with her to not look at me with burning hatred in her eyes, the way she did yesterday, but I know that's not fair. She's allowed to hurt, and she's allowed to be angry. I need to give her space, and time to heal.

I suppose it's a good thing, because it allows me to focus on Dr. Meyer, and the threat he poses to both Mason, and myself.

That's the other thing I spent the night obsessing over—my impending death.

The moment I get dressed, my fingers trembling as I pull on my clothes, I glide down the stairs, forgoing breakfast and heading straight for the front door. Grabbing the car keys from the rack, I figure now's as good a time as any to try out driving for the first time since I've come home from the hospital. Double checking to make sure my cell phone is secured safely in the pocket of my coat, I exit out into the damp, morning air. The sky overhead is angry and dark, despite the early hour, and I hastily get into the car after unlocking it, wanting to escape the inevitable downpour.

Once inside in the car, I take a deep breath, trying to remember how exactly to do this. Key in the ignition, foot on the brake, shift into reverse. Soon enough, I'm sliding out of the driveway, a brief smile of relief gracing my lips. After I make it onto the street, I head straight for the Byrne house. I know Mason won't be happy about my unexpected visit, but this can't wait.

I turn onto Mason's street, and after parking the car a short distance away from his building, I fumble around in my pocket for my cell phone. Dialing his number, I place the phone to my ear and watch his house from my place across the street. It rings seven times before he picks up, and I assume he must've been sleeping.

"Alina—"

"I'm outside," I blurt, cutting him off. "Can we talk?"

He makes a noise of disbelief, and when he speaks, his voice sounds groggy. "What's going on?"

"It's important," I urge. "Should I come in or should we meet outside?"

"Okay," he says, sighing. "Come inside."

"Okay," I say, ending the call before he can say anything else.

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I exit the car, jogging across the street and up the stairs of his front porch. The front door opens, and through the second screen door, I see the sleepy frown on his face, his hair mussed with sleep, just like last time. If I wasn't so distressed, I would find it endearing.

The instant he opens the other door, I enter the house, sliding past him. Once inside, I whirl around, and he watches me as he closes the door again, his face looking more alert than it did seconds ago when he sees the look on mine.

"I fucked up," I start, my eyes wide. "I fucked everything up."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, eyes darting over my face.

I throw my hands up in agitation as I try to form my thoughts into coherent sentences, but they fly to my face seconds later as my breathing quickens. "Meyer. He's onto us," I say, beginning to pace. "I fucked up big time."

Mason places his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to stop moving and making me look straight into his blue eyes, holding me captive. "Alina," he tells me. "Slow down. Tell me what happened."

Staring at him and forcing myself to calm down, I breathe deeply, though tears still spring to my eyes. "The appointment," I say. "It didn't go well."

"Uh oh." He grimaces. He sighs, releasing me and taking a step back to cross his arms over his chest. "What did you say to him?"

Covering my eyes with my hands, I lean back until I'm pressed against the wall, not wanting to see the look on his face. "The last time I went to the hospital, I asked to see him, and I was told he wasn't there," I say, recounting the events to him, feeling slightly nauseous again. "But then I saw his car in the parking lot. I asked him why the nurses lied. He didn't like that. He threatened me."

Mason remains silent, and with my vision still blocked, I have no way of gauging his reaction.

"Oh, God," I groan, fighting the urge to melt down into tears. "We're running out of time. He's going to tell Zoe, and then she's going to tell Dylan, and then they're going to try to—"

I stop short when I feel his fingers encircle my wrists tenderly, removing my hands from my eyes, and I look up at him slowly, startled by his sudden closeness. With my back to the wall, and him standing directly in front of me, it feels reminiscent of the first time I came here. I swallow, registering the sympathetic look on his face as my heart rate picks up.

"It's going to be okay," he assures me, still holding my wrists, and I can't help but let out a strangled laugh.

"How the hell is any of this okay?" I exclaim, looking at him as though he's lost his mind.

His expression doesn't change, though there's a confidence in his eyes that I can't fathom. "I told you, Dylan just wants things to go back to normal," he reminds me. "And since you've gotten back together, things are back on track. He's not in any rush to get rid of you right now. In fact, he's basically your ally right now. He'll want to protect you, and Zoe will know that."

I frown, trying to process his words, my panic beginning to settle down, and he gives me a second to think. He lets go of my arms gently, and they fall back to my side. Biting my lip, I consider his statement, not sure if I should let myself believe it. After all, I spent the night thinking it would be my last, and it's hard to get rid of that feeling in a mere few minutes. My gaze darts back up to his intense eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm almost positive," he says.

I raise my eyebrows, scoffing. "Almost?"

He lifts his shoulders, though he doesn't seem as concerned as I anticipated he would be over this whole ordeal, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "That's all I can give you right now," he admits. "There are no guarantees, but I think we're still safe. Though we should probably move things along, in case we really are running out of time."

"How?"

"We need to see if there's any footage of you getting brought to the hospital that night," he says, and my eyes widen. "That would certainly help our case."

Shaking my head, I look at him in disbelief. "You don't think they would've considered security cameras?"

"I was there," he informs me, as if I need a reminder, and I shudder subconsciously. "While their plan may seem diabolical, they aren't exactly evil geniuses. Meyer thought we were in a secluded enough area that we wouldn't be seen, but one of the cameras might have caught something. It's worth a shot, anyway." He pauses, giving me a look. "Unless you have a better idea."

"We could just go straight to the police and you could tell them your story," I say pointedly.

"Yeah," he scoffs. "They'll believe me for about five seconds, and then with a wave of Zoe's manicured hand, I'll be behind bars. We need irrefutable proof, or we won't have a chance."

Sighing, I close my eyes, knowing he's right. The Hendriks family clearly has a lot of money, and power, not to mention a reputation they're desperate to uphold. They would most likely do anything to keep us from soiling Zoe's name. "I know," I say, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. "I know. I just want this to be over. I'm ready for something to go right for once."

He pauses, studying my face, his eyebrows creasing slightly. "Did something else happen?"

I'm about to deny it, but I feel the need to confide in someone, and I quickly realize that I really have no one else. My eyes flicker to his, and I brace myself. "Audrey found out about Parker and I," I breathe, the words coming out in a rush.

He winces, grimacing. "Shit."

I laugh shortly. "That's the understatement of the century," I remark, folding my arms around my torso again. "She probably won't ever speak to me again, but whatever. It's probably for the best. Like she told me last night, it's in my nature to screw people over."

"Hey," he says in protest, frowning. "I don't believe that."

Widening my eyes, I look at him as though he's crazy. "How do you of all people not believe that? You've witnessed all the horrible things I've done."

Shrugging, he raises his eyebrows. "Okay, maybe I would've agreed at one point. But you've definitely changed. You're a lot different than you used to be."

"And you're positive that's a good thing?" I challenge, looking at him expectantly.

"Almost positive," he corrects, and I can't help but grin at that.

"Asshole," I tell him, and he laughs.

He sobers up seconds later, looking at me sincerely, his lips pressed in a small smile. "I'm serious though," he continues. "I think Zoe brought out the worst in you. And the person you are now is closer to who you were when she wasn't around. I don't think that person's all that bad."

I soften, feeling my spirits lift slightly, but I narrow my eyes studying him, crossing my arms. "I was under the impression you hated me."

He makes a face, shaking his head in confusion. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

I squint my eyes, placing a hand to my chin as I pretend to think. "Hm," I hum thoughtfully. "I don't know. Between all the glaring and the arguments and the refusing to speak to me—"

"Okay, okay," he says, holding a hand up to stop me. "I'm a jerk, I get it." He pauses, thinking for a moment. "I'll admit I was never your biggest fan, but I'm able to tolerate you now, so that's something."

Scoffing, I roll my eyes. "Gee, I must be the luckiest girl in the world."

His smile returns, bright and knee-weakening, before he turns around, gesturing for me to follow him. "You must be," he agrees, and I trail behind him into the kitchen. "Now, come on. We need to find a way to look at those tapes."

✘✘✘

Apparently, Mason has been doing his own digging behind the scenes.

He's been able to make a connection with someone from the hospital's security team that doesn't ask too many questions. This contact allowed him access to the key to the security room, and a hint of where the passwords to the system might be. For someone who seems so anti-social and anti-people in general, it's impressive.

The Pender Falls General Hospital is a beacon in the dark, the lights from within casting an eerie glow in the foggy night. Visiting hours are nearly over, and many of the hospital staff have already left, just leaving the night crew. I sit with my fingers curled into fists in my lap next to Mason, parked across the street.

After a while of silence, he turns to me, the street light overhead illuminating only half of his face as he lifts a brow. "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, I reach up, tightening my ponytail. "Think so."

He nods, adjusting the rim of his baseball cap, before reaching for the door handle. His eyebrows pull together as he studies me, and I swallow nervously. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"Yeah," I say, my voice small. I don't like how weak I sound, so I clear my throat, injecting more confidence into my voice. "Hell, yeah. Let's go break into a hospital. I've never been more ready to do that."

He gives me a knowing grin, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "That's more like it." He pulls his hand away, fingers gliding over the material of my sweater, opening his door and allowing cool air to enter the car.

Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, we walk toward the hospital, and the pace of my heart gets quicker with every step, the closer we get to being basked in light. He pulls the door open, allowing me to enter first, and I walk inside, ducking my head slightly. Mason steps in behind me, smoothly grasping my forearm to guide me to where we need to go, and his touch doesn't help the rate of my rapidly increasing pulse. The reception desk is empty, and I'm thankful for small mercies, as we walk down the hallway, our footsteps echoing ominously, the sound bouncing off the walls.

We make our way toward the elevators, heading to the third floor. Glancing in both directions, Mason checks to make sure the coast is clear before allowing me to exit. We're unnoticed as we creep by, and I keep my gaze either on the floor beneath me or the hall ahead of me.

Biting my lip, I slip my hand back into Mason's nervously, wanting some reassurance. Without looking down at me, he gives it a squeeze, causing a surge of something palpable to rise in my chest. I don't pay much attention to where we walk, focused on just putting one foot in front of the other, but then he comes to an abrupt halt and I have to stop myself from bumping into him.

"Jackpot," he murmurs, and I follow his gaze, realizing we've stopped in front of a door that reads Security.

I look up at him nervously, and he purses his lips together in determination, removing his hand from mine to remove the key from his pocket and nudge the door open, checking if anyone is inside. We're met with nothing but silence, and he turns back to me, his blue eyes a question, giving me another chance to back out if I choose.

Taking a deep breath, I adjust my ponytail again. "Let's do this."