My eyes struggled to open. The lights were bright. At first I thought 'this must be Heaven' but realized that couldn't be. I shouldn't be here. After everything I had done, God must've made a mistake.

But when I tried to move my arms, I couldn't. My eyes looked down and I noticed I was strapped to a stretcher.

Soon my hearing started to come back as I heard the yelling of what sounded like ten different people. Nurses. Doctors...

Then I heard the voice of my dad.

"She's bleeding internally," he claimed. "No, she's worse off than the other girl."

I tried to turn my head and realized I barely had any strength to do so. It fell to the side and I saw Melissa in the same position as me. Laid out on a stretcher, except my dad was right. She probably didn't look as bad as I did.

Her eyes found me at the same time and my heart fluttered. Yeah, I was still alive.

That's when I looked up to see my dad.

Everything stopped at the sight of his eyes locked with mine. He had tears in his. Was he crying because he knew I wouldn't make it? Because he would never be able to make things right with me once I died?

He ran alongside me. "Alexa, sweetie, I need you to keep your eyes open. Everything is gonna be okay."

For some reason I found comfort in his words even when I knew they weren't true. He was upset because I was gonna die. That's why everything was so urgent.

I was dying. And maybe I should.

That's when my dad disappeared and the walls started to close in on me again. They wouldn't be able to save me. I was going to die on the operation table and my family would be at risk without me.

No. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't die. Not until I knew Paige was dead. Not until I knew my family would be safe.

"Dad!" I cried out, but there was no answer. My voice didn't even sound like mine.

"Ma'am, don't move. You're hurt really bad," a doctor ordered.

I wanted to laugh. I couldn't move even if I wanted to, I was strapped to this bed.

My eyes struggled to stay open but it was so hard. Everything was telling me to let go. To just give in to the pain and let it take me. But my brain was fighting. God, my brain was always so stubborn.

Maybe that's the only reason I wasn't dead yet.

I could hear the ripping of my clothes as a bright light shined above me. A bunch of pricks in my arm let me know I would soon go under. I was sure I wouldn't wake up this time. If I fell asleep, I would die.

Everything became heavy again. My arms. My legs. And then my eyelids. I tried to fight but there was no use. It was time to go.

I surrendered and allowedthe darkness to finally take me.

* * *

The sensation of someone's hand on my head pulled me from my dreams. My eyes opened slowly, as if I had been sleeping for years. My head was tingling and nothing felt real.

That was until I saw my father sitting in a chair next to me.

"Alexa," he whispered.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that he was here with me in this hospital room.

All I could muster was a fragile "hey".

I blinked and tried to get rid of the blurriness clouding my vision. It took a few minutes, but once I did I studied my father. He seemed as if he hadn't slept in days. How long had I been here?

"How long..." My mouth was so dry. "How long have I...?"

"Almost twenty-four hours," he answered.

The anesthesia got to me. "I'm missing my exams."

This got my father to laugh but it wasn't funny. I had studied hard for those tests.

"They'll let you make them up," he comforted.

I stared at him but I didn't know what to say. Last time we had seen each other things had been so different. Now we were in a hospital where I should've died.

He shook his head. "God how did I let this happen...?"

I remained silent.

He looked back up at me. "Lex... I'm so sorry."

My heart flinched at my nickname. I couldn't remember the last time he had called me that.

I studied my father longer and noticed the blood on his shirt. Was that mine? Had I bled on him last night?

"Is that... mine?" I wondered, pointing to his shirt.

"No, it's Diaz's," he answered. "He's dead, Alexa."

At the revelation, I could breathe better. I felt as if some weight had fallen from my chest, but it was still hurting.

"How did you...?"

"Chapman," he answered. "He told me about what was going on at the camp and said he needed my help. When he showed me the picture you sent him of that man, Diaz, I recognized him immediately. His names not Diaz, but he works for Marco Malvardo."

The irony of this situation made me want to go into hysterics.

I had gotten involved with Chapman, which inevitably led me to my father. And now that my father was free from the drug mafia bullshit, I could go to camp. I leave, only for a member to find me and try to kill me, and my dad saves my life. It was all too much.

But instead of falling into hysterics, I started to cry.

It was like a balloon bursting because it was too full. The tears spilled almost as if I had no control over my body. As if I hadn't cried since I was born and it was all coming out now. The pain and bullshit seemed to hit me all at once and I couldn't overcome it. I felt like I was drowning.

"Alexa," my dad cooed. "It's okay now. You're okay."

"Why do these things..." I sobbed. "... happen to me?"

Yeah, I had gone looking for Diaz and poked the bear, but it had all been staged from the start. The drugs, the attack... all of this was supposed to happen. Except I was supposed to die.

"That night..." I started. "Did you see anyone else? Other that Diaz?"

My father shook his head. "No. Why? Was there someone else?"

I exhaled heavily. "Yes."

"Who was it?"

"She went by the name Paige Weston, but she claimed to be the daughter of Dave Stanley," I confessed.

My dad just sat back in his chair and looked at me. It was all starting to make sense for him too. And I was sure he remembered Stanley, vividly.

"Diaz was working with Paige," he confirmed. "That's how he was able to get inside camp grounds."

I swallowed but the lump in my throat made it painful. This had all been some set up for revenge. And since I was sure Paige knew I was still alive, she wouldn't stop till I was dead.

Dad noticed my silence and rested his hand on my shoulder. "Alexa, we're gonna find her. We know who we're looking for now."

I shook my head. "She's not the only one you need to worry about."

He sighed. "We're already working to find Marco."

The words of my father were aimed to comfort me but it didn't work. There were now multiple targets from multiple sources, all of which were extremely dangerous. How could I just sit still?

But with the injuries I hadendured, that was all I could do. I just prayed I could heal before my enemiesdecided to try and kill me again.

* * *

I was woken by the sound of a chair moving. My eyes shot open with fear, but I realized it was only Melissa. I hadn't seen her since the attack, but I couldn't help but notice she had taken a beating herself.

She had a bruise on the side of her face and a busted blood vessel in the white of her right eye. Had Diaz hit her that hard? I flinched at the memory of his beating.

At first, Melissa didn't say anything. She just sat in the chair next to my bed with a look I couldn't read on her face. A darkness seemed to hang around her like an ominous fog.

Then we locked eyes and she smiled.

"Your dad was right. You look a hell of a lot worse than me," she joked.

I exhaled with a chuckle and felt a stabbing pain in my side. My laughter immediately stopped.

She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No it's fine," I said. "The pain reminds me that I'm still alive."

Her eyes fell from mine. "Yeah."

Maybe we both had the same thought stuck in our minds. That we should've died that night. We shouldn't be here talking to each other, but we were. We were alive, and maybe for good reason.

"So what's the damage, Cortez?" she asked in a serious tone, but I could tell she was teasing.

I smiled. "Um, internal bleeding but they were able to stop it. Two broken ribs, a few broken fingers and four stitches. and I'm being monitored for a concussion."

I tilted my head and revealed the gash that had been put there by the butt of Diaz's gun. Melissa's hand lifted and ran along the tough stitches on the side of my face.

I couldn't help but stare at her. After everything... I would never be able to look at her like a stranger. She was so much more, and we both knew that. We had gone through too much together to believe we weren't meant to be in each other's lives.

Then she leaned down and grabbed two framed diplomas.

"Guess we were exempt from exams," she said.

I took mine from her and studied it. There my name was in black, as if they had planned to pass me all along. This had to be a favor from Chapman. This had his name written all over it.

I set the diploma on my lap. "Chapman did this."

"Well of course," Melissa agreed with a laugh. "You don't think he'd put us through hell only for us to fail."

I shook my head and laughed to myself. This was the first diploma I had ever received and it felt great, besides the fact that we hadn't been at graduation.

"Looks like it's official," I claimed.

Melissa smiled. "We're agents. Kinda."

I watched her stare at her diploma. I could tell she had something to say but was debating whether she wanted to or not.

Then she looked at me.

"My dad's thinking about moving to New York," she confessed. "If I get the okay from Chapman, I could transfer to the NIA branch over there."

It took several seconds for the information to process. Melissa wanted to move?

My heart ached at the idea of her leaving. That was practically across the globe. I wouldn't see her again, and if I did it wouldn't be often at all. Could I really let her go?

"Is that what you want?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

Maybe I was silently asking myself if that's what I wanted, but I wasn't sure. There were so many things I had yet to tell her, but would it change anything? After learning her story, I wanted nothing more than to tell her mine. I wanted to tell her everything.

For the first time in my life I wanted Melissa to stay so we could repair what we had broken and see where it went from there.

"If you do go..." I started. "New York would gain a brilliant agent."

She gave a sad smile.

"But Los Angeles would miss you," I finished. "I..."

More hesitation.

Just say it, Alexa.

"...I would miss you."

I hadn't noticed until now but one of her hands had been resting in my free one. The sensation of her fingers playing with mine lit a fire deep inside of me. Like a flame that had been put out long ago was reignited.

She watched our hands. "We do have a lot of fun together."

"Tons," I agreed.

"And someone's gotta stay around to keep you out of trouble..."

"Of course."

"Alexa..." She paused. "I need you to know something."

She stopped but I was hanging onto every word. I needed her to stay. I really did.

"If I could've traded my freedom for you and my dad's, I would've," she confessed.

It was weird how much I believed her. You would think that after everything I experienced with betrayal and lies that it would be impossible to let my guard down again, but it wasn't.

I believed Melissa, more than anything. There was no bad gut feeling anymore. No doubt or fear of being back-stabbed. I trusted her because she could've left a long time ago. She could've given up many times, but she hadn't. She had stayed and fought, regardless of how much I pushed her away. She could've ran away from this place, but never did.

That had to count for something, right?

I stared at our hands. "I believe you."

She squeezed my hand. "I know you don't trust me. It's okay. I don't blame you. But I want to stay."

I looked up.

"Only if you say you want me to," she finished.

"I want you," I nearly blurted. My face burned with embarrassment. "I mean, I want you to stay."

This got Melissa to blush, which I took as a good sign.

It would take a lot of work to repair what was broken. We both knew that. But if she stayed around we could at least try. We could try without someone blackmailing Melissa. We could try without outside sources influencing my decisions. We could try like normal people, and that would mean the world to me.

Melissa leaned in and her lips met mine. It felt different. It felt real. As if she was kissing me without any guilt or regret. She was kissing me because she wanted to and solely for that reason.

There was no ulterior motive. There was no danger breathing down her neck, at least for now. It was genuine, and I felt that in every cell of my body.

And maybe, when the worlddecided to collapse around me again, Melissa could be standing by my side.