Night had fallen over the shelter, and everyone was fast asleep. Everyone except Darien. He tossed and turned for hours, plagued by nightmares. After several hours, he'd had enough.

The room was pitch black. He couldn't see anything, but he felt his way to his backpack by the door. He rummaged for the piece of paper he had yesterday morning, with no luck. Starting to panic, he checked his coat pockets, where he found it. Standing up slowly, he opened the door, crept into the main living space, and quietly made his way to the ladder at the entrance.

As he propped the door open, Darien breathed in the calm of the night air. Silent. Calm. Not even the raccoons made a noise. He walked over to a tree on the edge of the clearing. He put his back to the shelter, and pulled out the piece of paper, revealing a small piece of heroin. He pulled out a spoon, lighter, and needle. He used his belt as a tourniquet for his leg, and took off his shoe. He heated the bottom of the spoon, and was about to inject the drug into his foot.

"My instincts are never wrong."

Darien jumped, dropping all of the heroin. Luke was standing over him, arms crossed.

"Please, do tell me what your real story is. How can you shoot up when you have a little brother to take care of? What kind of example is that setting for him?"

"He doesn't know," Darien replied, refusing to meet Luke's gaze.

"Yeah, well now I know. Liam is not going to tolerate this," Luke continued.

"Please, please don't tell anyone. This is as close to a home as we've had in eight years. I can't take that away from Jackson. Please."

"You're gonna have to do a lot of explaining," Luke responded, crouching down next to Darien.

"I promise, I have a reasonable explanation. We have been homeless for eight years, but we're also in hiding. My father was abusive, but only after my mom died. She had lupus, and needed a liver transplant, but the hospital put her low on the needs list because she used to be an alcoholic. She died because of that. My dad was overcome with grief, and he tried to communicate with my mother through mediums and seances. He transformed from a loving, generous man into a hateful, abusive monster. He took out most of his anger on Jackson, but also abused my little sister and I," Darien explained.

"You have a little sister? Why isn't she with you?" Luke asked.

"Had. One day, when I was fifteen, I snapped. I dragged Jackson out of bed," he paused.

"And?"

"I set the house on fire."

"What?!"

"I burned it to the ground. I can't get a driver's license because I'm a felon. We've been homeless because we can't become familiar with anyone. They can't know me."

Luke hunched over his knees and sighed loudly.

"I'm being eaten alive by guilt and shame, Luke."

"For killing your father and sister?" Luke asked, lifting his eyes.

"My sister. My dad was a sick bastard who deserved to die. I saved my brother from that monster. But Zoey. She was so young. She didn't deserve to die. I could've saved her. I could've grabbed her from her room, but I didn't." Tears started streaming down his face and he leaned his head back against the tree and sobbed loudly. "I can't get her face out of my head. It's attacking me constantly and it's hard to eat, it's hard to sleep, I can't escape her. I tried to numb the pain with coke, then that stopped helping so I took oxy, same thing. Then one day, a man we were sharing a tent with introduced me to heroin. It made me sick at first, but he said the second hit would be better. So I tried it. The rush was euphoric. It was the first time she was banished from my mind. I took it again, and again. Now I'm sitting here against this tree, an addict of three years, and she's all I can see."

Luke cautiously reached out and took the syringe from where Darien dropped it. He put a hand on Darien's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're feeling. I've never done drugs, and I don't understand how that feels, but I can promise that you're done facing these demons on your own. This compound is made up of a few lost and emotional people. None of us are strong on our own, we lean on each other. You're safe now." He snapped the syringe in half, making sure it was unusable. He stood up, then helped Darien to his feet. "You're gonna get clean. Starting today."

"Luke, I used yesterday and I'm already feeling the aching in my bones. I-I don't know if I'll make it through withdrawals. I'm not strong enough," Darien said, hugging his coat tightly around his shivering body.

Luke gently led Darien back toward the shelter. "We need to talk to the others about this, Darien. They need to know. Everything."

At this, Darien shivered. "But what if they want us to leave?"

"I'll talk to Liam privately. He'll understand. They all will."

Darien hesitantly continued along with Luke. Once they went inside, Luke led him to Liam's room. They pushed the door open to reveal him sitting on the floor, surrounded by pictures and news clippings. He looked up.

"What are you two doing up so late?" he asked.

Luke looked at Darien before replying. "We need to talk to you about something."

Darien looked at the collection on the floor. "What's all that?"

"It's all the evidence we've acquired over the year about Deenwood. So what is it you need to talk to me about?" Liam asked, gesturing for the two to sit down.

"I was right," Luke started. "Darien was hiding something. However, it's not what I was expecting." He looked to Darien, who had his head down.

"What do you mean?" Liam asked.

"His mom died, his dad became abusive, so Darien and Jackson ran away."

"That's exactly what he told us, Luke."

"He left out a large part of information. He didn't just run away, he burnt down his house, killing his dad, and his little sister."

Darien gulped audibly.

"What?!" Liam's eyes were as large as dinner plates, and the blood drained from his face.

"That's not it though," Luke continued.

Liam interrupted. "There's more?"

"He was being consumed by guilt and was seeing images of his sister all the time, so he tried to self-medicate with xanax, cocaine, oxy," he hesitated, "and heroin."

Darien hugged his knees and hid his face.

Liam looked at Luke, visibly frustrated. "We can't let him stay here!"

"You know that I felt the same way at the beginning, but Liam, he has no one. He's been all alone, aside from his brother, for eight years. He agreed to get clean. We can't turn him out on the streets. He's suffered enough."

Liam sighed and rubbed his forehead. His heart hurt for the man sitting beside him. "Okay."

Darien looked up. "Okay?"

"Luke's right. You can stay. Permanently."

Luke put a comforting hand on Darien's back. "I told you he would understand."

Tears filled Darien's eyes and he looked at Liam. "Thank you. I promise, I will get clean."

Liam smiled softly. "You'll have to help us look for more evidence, though. We need as much help as we can get."

Darien laughed and nodded his head in agreement. His eyes fell to the photos around him. His gaze focused on a picture of a woman holding a little girl. He picked it up, examining it further.

"W-where'd you get this?" he asked, voice quivering.

"That's the Dean's wife and daughter, Zoey," Liam explained.

Luke looked toward Darien, whose hands were shaking as he continued to hold the photo.

"You're kidding, r-right?"

Liam furrowed his brow. "No, why would I kid about that?"

Darien dropped the photo and scooted himself as far away as he could, starting to hyperventilate. He hugged his knees tightly to his chest and started rocking back and forth.

Luke walked over to him, trying to stop him from rocking. "It can't possibly be them," he said.

"Can't be who?" Liam asked.

Darien stopped rocking and looked at Liam. "That photo is of my mother and sister. The sister I let die."

"That can't be true. That's the Dean's wife, Samantha and his daughter, Zoey. Zoey is very much so alive," Liam reasoned.

What part of this don't you understand?" Darien asked, grabbing the picture again. "My name is Darien Quain, my late mother's name is Samantha Quain, my father's name is Jefferson, and I have two younger siblings named Jackson and Zoey."

Liam's eyes grew wide. "But I thought you killed them."

"I thought so too, but apparently not. Didn't you say the Dean's daughter had scars on her face yesterday?"

"Yeah," Liam nodded. "I did."

"Do they look like burn scars?"

Luke nodded his head in disbelief. "It's her."

Darien closed his eyes for a moment.

"You're our missing link!" Liam exclaimed.

"What?"

"You're the Dean's son! You can help us figure out what's going on so we can file a police report!" Liam explained.

Darien shook his head. "I can't. I'm a felon, remember?"

"But they're not dead."

"Arson is a felony, regardless of whether someone dies or not," Luke reminded his friend.

"Can't you at least help us research?" Liam asked.

Darien crossed his arms. "I don't want to see that man again. You said he was on to you, that's why you left the school. There's a high possibility that you could run into him again unexpectedly."

"But what about your sister?" Liam asked.

"Her mind is obviously corrupted if she's helping him."

Luke nodded. "He's right. She's his pawn, doing his dirty work."

Darien shook his head. "I can't do it. She's lost for good."

He stood up and walked back to his room. Laying on the floor mat, he stared up at the ceiling, begging sleep to overtake him. It didn't. 

He tossed and turned, his back spasming with every move, head pounding, bones aching. Sweat drenched his pillow, but no amount of blankets could cure the chills coursing through his body.

Fever dreams polluted his mind. The walls closed in around him. A girl's voice whispered and laughed around him. His stomach churned, and tears streamed down his face. Paralyzed by the pain in his heart and his head, he lay silent, enduring this chaos, for hours.