We're out. Saying those words, even in my mind, leaves me reeling. We're out, on the highway, heralded by the warm glow of the streetlights. I don't even know where were going. I don't think I care.

We're out.

The engine rumbles, as if it too senses the writhing of my blood. We're free, for now. I glance at the wingmirror. We must stay one step ahead. Still, my stomach gurgles a little as I realise I'm going to have to life my life looking over my shoulder. In our head, Alyssa points out that won't be the case if we have evidence. Evidence Bo assures me he has stashed at his safe house in the city centre.

Eyes brewing with tears, I turn to Emma and Noah who are gazing at their laps in silence. They look up as I round on them.

"Why did you come? You could have been killed, or worse. Why?" Noah perks up.

"Oh, look. It's you again," he says. "Can you give us some warning, the next time you're going to switch personalities?" I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. Alyssa is smiling too. Or least, I imagine that she is. Tucked away in our cortex, pulsing with adrenaline from the fight. With love, or at least some husky version of it, for Ferenc. A good name, I realise. The name of freedom. Something which they both deserve.

Bo keeps a steady eye perched on the mirrors, easily guiding the car through the throng of city traffic. Sirens blare and yet everything seems so empty. Harsh lights shrouded in the warm glow from windows, where mannequins and TV sets sit eerily still. People flock to the sidewalks, hauling plastic bags and carboard boxes. Others are dragging dogs through the maze of concrete and tarmac. I almost poke my head out of the window to scream at them. To tell them all that I have endured. All that I have seen and remembered.

I say nothing, slumping in the passenger seat. Bo reads my mind.

"We'll be inside soon, in the heat of the city. They won't come after us if we're surrounded by this many people". I growl.

"They'd better not. Because you've dragged Emma and Noah into this too". Bo winces.

"I never meant to get them involved. They insisted on coming with me".

"You should have refused them". Emma cuts in, her voice a soothing fan.

"He tried. Believe me". She straights in the back of the car. Bites her lip.

"So," she continues. "What now? We need to go the police. Government. Anything. No institution like that should be able to exist". My words exactly.

"It's not as easy as that," Bo points out. "Our resources are limited, and I doubt, in a private court hearing, we'll be able to beat them".

"So, let's make it public. Tell the world!" Emma's hands bunch into fists, her serenity vanishing in an instant.

"They'll only kill us," Noah points out, his voice low. Suddenly glum. I hide a grimace. His Mum. His Mother. His little sister whom he may never become his little brother. This is all my fault. I've torn these people from their lives, their families. Selfish.

Freedom always seems so selfish when other people are involved.

I square my shoulders, turning around to face my friends. My new family.

"We will protect you. I promise," I say. Emma smiles softly and Noah nods.

"I know," whispers Emma. "I wasn't worried". Clearly, she has more faith in me than I do.

Skin churning, I slither back to face the windshield. Dr. Light offers me the odd stare as the car skids around a corner. He slows as we enter a plague of redbrick houses, cornered by darkened windows.

"Don't do that," he tells me, both hands on the wheel.

"What?"

"You're moping".

"I don't mope".

"Everything will be fine. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," I tell him. He chuckles.

"Liar". I sit up a little more.

"What about you? Your other persona practically electrocuted himself not an hour ago. Are you alright?" Bo's hands tighten. He smiles jovially.

"I'm fine." I laugh and shake my head. Gently, I say,

"Liar". Back to the old routine. The King and Queen of Lying and Being Wonderfully not Okay.

For a few minutes, we continue to drive in silence. Until Emma taps my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm so sorry those things happened to you". I shrug.

"I'm sorry too. For dragging you into this". Noah jumps in.

"You didn't. Stop saying that. It was our choice. After your weird, superhuman Doctor"—

"I'll take that as a compliment," interrupts Bo from up front. I sigh, giving the signal for Noah to continue undisturbed.

"You're still a pretty strange Doctor," Noah amends. "After he vanished after appearing at the Academy in a frenzy, Emma found me and told me he'd taken you out of school. We went to the Principle who didn't seem to know anything. No surprise there. We asked if we could have your address just to check if everything was fine. He was reluctant to give it until Emma here threatened to phone the police. We found your house and it was a minefield. Like a Spy movie with people in dark suits and bullet-proof vests. We escaped into the back alleys before being spotted. In the end, your Doctor found us." Bo sighs from the driver's seat, swerving the car into an underground parking garage, the kind with grey cement pillars and fluorescent lights flickering in the dim.

"I don't think I have the right to call myself a Doctor after everything that's happened," he says, more to me than anyone else. I place my hand on his arm and he smiles. A drab smile, but a smile all the same.

The car sinks to a stop.

Beneath the chin of the parking lot, the sky sinks in shades of puce. Bo cuts the engine and turns to face my friends.

"We need to be cautious and quiet. We get in the elevator, get comfortable and then I'll go out to collect supplies. There's a burner phone to call your parents and let them know what's going on and not to contact you until I'm sure you're both safe." Bo turns to me, eyes softening.

"Everything is going to be fine".

"I think I stopped believing you the moment I was kidnapped," I say, and he chuckles. He knows I'm just as much of a liar as he is. Emma shuffles from the back of the car, paisley trousers chafing on the leather seats.

"Can't we go home? What about our folks? Will they be in danger?" Her pupils are yolks. Bo glances at me, but I shrink back against the passenger door. There's nothing I can say. Nothing to comfort her. Nothing to guarantee the safety of Noah's parents, the safety of her Father. Instead, Bo purses his lips and turns back to face her.

"We can't. That will only put them in danger. They will be fine so long as we stay away. For now. The Janus Foundation won't risk harming them. They may be barbarians, but they would not risk exposing themselves to the public domain by removing your families. Trust me," he whispers. Nodding, Emma leans back with a sigh. Noah, as if trying to lighten the mood, laughs, though his voice cracks a little.

"The Janus Foundation. It sounds like they picked the name from an Evil Secret Organisations Forum". We share a laugh, one which dwindles as the air-raid like beeping of the cars outside snatches our attention. We have to move.

Easing out of the car takes an eternity – I almost feel as if I've slipped into another coma. Bo urges us to move quickly, but we end up shifting in slow-motion, trying desperately to pick the opportune moment to slip out of the car unnoticed.

Carefully, Bo hurries us along. He opens the trunk, snatching a black duffel bag – the kind in which burner phones or stray boxes of cash are kept. The trunk shuts with an audible thump, spurring us into action. We race across the grey field of concrete, dodging the white lines of the parking spaces as if they will wrap around our ankles. Bo directs us to what seems like just another wall of charcoaled tarmac, but what turns out to be a concealed entrance to a lift. Grey doors, the same colour as the wall, sitting in the shadows unnoticed. The doors slide back, and we step inside.

The brightness of the lift – cream walls and neon lights – threaten to blind us. We are crowned in hues of peppermint as we stare at the ceiling as it rises. The lift rises so fast it seems as if we're flying.

I stand beside Dr. Light, the man I once thought would never understand me. And yet, he is me. In some way, he understands. And that is enough. Enough for me to take a chance and wrap my hand around his. With the duffel back slung over his shoulder, he offers me a wan smile.

"Everything will be alright," I tell him, echoing his own words from the car. His own lies. My lies.

Emma and Noah say nothing, that is until the lift continues to rise. As if sensing the discomfort, Noah decides to add to it.

"So, where's the awkward lift music?" he asks no one. "There should always be awkward lift music". Emma slaps him on the arm, but I force a giggle. If they weren't here, I wouldn't be able to walk. I wouldn't be able to discern the darkness of the parking lot from the darkness of the coma I'd once been trapped in. I square my shoulders. Never again.

"Who are these guys?" Emma shifts on her heels. "What do they want?" My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Bo sighs.

"The Janus Foundation is a military and scientific development organisation, or at least it was. It is no longer government sanctioned. They adopt children from orphanages and either train them up or experiment on them. Alice is different, though. She was born like this. She has a Mother, a real Mother, somewhere. In one of their facilities".

"But why? I don't understand," Emma pushes. "Why use the psychology of DID to make super soldiers? It makes no sense". Preaching to the choir. I hang my head. It doesn't make sense. And why me? If they used orphans like Dr. Light, then why did they pick me? I frown.

"This is personal," I realise. Someone in the Janus Foundation chose me on purpose. Used me on purpose. But what did I do to make them hate me so much? Noah shakes his head.

"It can't be. No one deserves that". Bo shudders.

"It isn't about what people deserve". I can't stand how right he is. Someone in the Janus Foundation has it in for me. And I have to know why. I have to know who they are. Above everything else, I have to find my Mother. As the lift pings and the doors open, I gesture to Emma and Noah.

"What about them? We need to somehow get them enrolled into a Witness Protection scheme". Bo reaches for my palm and squeezes lightly.

"We can't. The Janus Foundation has connections and we won't be able to figure out which cops are crooked in time to save them". Emma jumps to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Besides," she smiles. "You can't make us leave you. Not for the world. We're going to see this through, together". Her words are acid in my ears. We can't, I want to say. This isn't your fight. It's mine.

'Ours,' echoes Alyssa, though her voice is fading fast. Inside our head, I reply,

'Rest. You've done enough. You can rest now'.

'I can't. You'd fall apart without me,' she points out. A laugh erupts as we step out of the lift into a monochrome wallpapered hallway with a mauve carpet and miniaturised manicured palm trees in ceramic pots.

'Yes, I would. Which is why you need to rest. You can berate me any time. Just rest.' Alyssa falls silent and that is the best I can hope for. Noah steps out of the lift last, eyes brimming with curiosity.

"You two can communicate?" he starts. Emma gives him a light shove.

"Noah. You can't just ask her things like that". I shake my head.

"No, it's okay. Yes," I say. "Unlike many people with personality disorder, I can communicate with my secondary persona. It's fun, but it gets a little annoying at times. Though, I don't envy Light". Bo looks up from the carpet.

"Why?" Noah leans towards Dr. Light. Bo groans and turns away.

"He has to communicate via phone calls and written notes," I continue. Bo huffs.

"And my other persona cannot spell," he adds. It doesn't surprise me. Ferenc, created for war and yet he only spills blood for Alyssa. Blood. The very idea chokes me. I clench my fists. If I have my way, and I will, Alyssa will never have to kill me for me, for us, ever again. No one will.

We slip across the hallway, our shoes – and my bare feet – padding like paws across the carpet. Bo trudges gracelessly behind me, his face aged and pale. I say nothing. Ferenc could have killed himself – and Light – all to help us escape. There is nothing I can do that would convey how grateful I am. Even if he got Emma and Noah involved. Even if, I realise with an audible sigh, they got themselves involved. Noah half turns when we reach a door. A Dark Chocolate door, with a fibreglass handle. He whistles, turns to Bo.

"Are we entering Candyland or something?" he asks. Bo says nothing. Emma pinches Noah's elbow, making him squeal.

"What my idiot friend means to say is where did you come by this apartment, if you don't mind the question?" I smile aimlessly to myself. Emma will become one of the great diplomats, dispelling nuclear wars with a throw of her hands couples with a few kind words. Bo shrugs, struggling to inch to the door to insert the key.

"I bought it in secret, from a contact of mine who now works for the CIA. His parents were in real estate. We met when I was at Harvard". He pushes on the handle and the door opens in a smooth glide. The apartment itself is not an apartment. It is a luxury carving of manicured floorboards with tanned walls which remind me of chocolate bars stuffed in candy wrappers. A large round table sits in the centre of the main room, behind which lies a black-tiled kitchen. Two doors snake off to the left. There are no windows. We traipse in and Bo dumps the duffel bag on the floor before falling to his knees. I fall against him and Emma sits down beside me. She holds up her sleeve.

"Do you need a tissue?" she asks. Wordlessly, I shake my head.

"Do you need a hug?" Wordlessly, I nod.

The moment she wraps her arms around my shoulders, I break down.

Tears wring themselves out of my eyes like a dishwasher twisting a cloth. Never-ending, saltwater. Streaming down my cheeks in fields of translucent grass. Tears. One after the other. Emma rubs circles into my back, while Noah places a hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes for a brief moment and Bo is there, his soft smile offering me a promise of tomorrow. We will live through this and see a better day. We have to. I can't accept the prospect of anything else.

Rubbing my eyes, I risk another glance at the apartment. No personal belongings, but wood-carved animal masks are suspended on iron rods on the nearby shelves. Cheap, purchased at a thrift store or a gift shop. The apartment is so impersonal I almost recoil at the idea of staying here another second. Because I realise what it reminds me of: the house of lies. The house where Karen Hill gave me a normal life on a silver platter and then smashed that platter over my head. The house where I'd been cocooned in secrets and lies and horrors. That was not the house I'd grown up in. I remember now. I had grown up in grotty apartment in the city centre, mistaking smog from clouds and tears for sunshine. But I'd loved it. Because in that apartment, I was human. In that apartment, my Mother loved me. And I loved her. I do love her. Wherever she is now. My tears soon dry. I will find my Mother.

Emma squeezes me tighter, while Noah envelops us both in a giant bear hug. His arms don't quite fit around the two of us, but it's enough to bring warmth to the tips of toes.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he says.

It seems to take us years to let go. To drift off back into our own segments of the universe.

As I glance up from my shroud of tears and sweat, Bo is standing, leaning against the beige wallpaper, struggling to cling onto the duffel bag. I raise my head, staring at him with tears in my eyes.

"Everything is going to be fine," I tell him. He says nothing. Good. I almost laugh. I wouldn't believe a word I said either.

We fester in the silence for a minute or two, collecting dust like the uncovered dining table or the dawn-smothered windowsills. Emma smiles politely at the furnishings, though she edges around Bo as if he's radioactive. Noah gapes, wading around the apartment, treading through in an invisible fjord. I smile at Bo.

"Great Real Estate," I say. He laughs, though it's more of a shuddering breath.

"Yeah, well. I thought I'd pick something average, nondescript. You know. To fit my personality." Now I'm laughing too. Holding my stomach, which begins to use my rib as its toothpick, I fight the hysterics which arise. We're free, but we need to lay low. Who knows how long we'll need to stay here.

Straightening his shoulders, Bo gestures to the bedrooms at the far end of the apartment, with the dark chocolate doorways.

"Miss Li, Mr. Tremblay. You can stay in whichever rooms you pick. There are three bedrooms, so Alice will take the Master Suite and I will take the couch". I shake my head.

"You can't take the couch. You're exhausted. Take the bed. I'll take the couch," I say. Bo shakes his head, wincing a little with the effort.

"You've been through a lot," he starts. Noah cuts in instantly.

"Understatement of the year". Bo glares at him and he holds up his hands.

"Sorry. I'll shut up". Emma smiles and I fight the laugh which bubbles. If I laugh now, I don't think I'll be able to stop.

We're out, breathing the same air as the geese which pass over the sunken fields. We're free. We have wings our own, now. I have Alyssa. And, for the first time, she has me. I'll never abandon her again. Not for the world, not for that horrible word in those psychology textbooks. Disorder. Disorder. I peel off the label and crunch it into mulch.

To me, this is what order looks like. And if my order is everyone else's chaos, then so be it.

I am chaos and I'm smiling.

Against the grey tones of the kitchen and freshly polished tiles, Dr. Light bends down. Places a tentative hand on my shoulder. He barely touches me; his hand hovers above my facility-issue gown. I glance down at myself. Eventually convince my body to stand, though my legs give out the moment my feet kiss the floor. Noah lunges forward, but it's Bo who grabs me, holds me up. He frowns as my stomach gurgles.

"I'll need to get some food. Supplies. Toiletries".

"No," I say adamantly. "You're not going out there. We can order the supplies". Again, Bo glances at the darkened windows.

"No. That's traceable. I'll need to go to the store in person. Don't worry. They won't risk subduing us in the middle of a busy city". Words selected to placate me, but I see no other option. A change of clothes and some good food won't calm the quaking of my veins, but it's a start. Another steppingstone on the road to finding my real Mother and stripping away the branches of the Janus Foundation. One by one.

A lump appears at the back of my mouth like a large, rotten apple. Worms seem to slither around my teeth, drowning my gums in soil.

"Bo. You can't leave," I whisper. Taking my hands in his, meets my gaze. I have never seen him like this before. Human and open and afraid. But he smiles and reaches out to touch my cheek. Pulls back before out skin can collide. He turns toward the door.

"Any requests?" he asks the room.

"Tampons?" Emma shoots back, as if she is permanently trying to catch him off guard. To his credit, Bo does not falter. Noah however, splutters. Emma smiles at him.

"There you are, Tremblay," she says good-naturedly, pointing to Dr. Light. "That's a real man".

Hiding a smile, Bo bends down to rummage in the duffel, yanking out a wah of cash and burner phone. He hands another burner to Emma.

"You get into trouble, you call," he says. Emma nods, though her eyes flash in calm embers.

"Why did you give that phone to her?" I ask, frowning.

"Because she's probably the most sensible out of the three of you". I shrug. That was fair.

Donning a black jacket from the duffel bag, Light stuffs the burner phone into his pocket. He then puts on a baseball cap and sunglasses. Shaking my head, I manage a smile. A plethora of clichés all in one place. Still, if we're lucky, and I imagine we are, The Foundation we'll think we're trying to leave the city or even the country. They'll be locking down airports, with Karen Hill snarling at her little lackeys like a leopard in its enclosure. Thinking of her makes me shiver. Shiver and wince. Tears threaten to boil. She lied to me. I trusted her and she lied. I never knew my own naivety could hurt this much. Now I understand. I understand too much, and I wish my mind would kick back and become a blank slate.

Bo glances at me, hovering by the door. Orbiting me like a satellite, his eyes liminal ponds.

"Let me come with you," I whisper. Emma shoots an incredulous stare in my direction.

"Absolutely not," says Light.

"Someone has to go with you".

"No one needs to come with me".

"Emma could go," suggests Noah. "And I could stay here and protect Alice".

"Noah," smiled Emma. "You go. You can protect us". She's playing with him – anyone can see that. Because she wants to talk to me alone. It's alarming how much she resembles a politician sometimes.

"But," Noah begins.

"Just shut up and go". I smile at Emma's antics and my smile only widens as Noah grumbles about stuck with the crazy doctor. I may be naive, but I'm not blind. Noah is too good for me. No, I realise. No one is too good for me. But my first love, first and foremost, is the young woman in my mind. Me and Alyssa.

We are each own hearts.

Out the door they go, Noah treading lightly as if to avoid stepping on the cracks in the tiles, while Bo breezes out of the room like a haunting. The door eases closed. I'm left with a half-emptied duffel bag, an apartment I've never seen, my first friend since waking up, and my own tears. And I'm crying again. Crying and weeping and pouring out a mixture of salt and snot.

"Come on," Emma whispers, as if shaking her head at a child crying over a scabbed knee. "Let's get you cleaned up". She begins to pull her up from the floor, but I pull her down with me and wrap my arms around her shoulders.

"Or," she suggests. "We could just stay here". I cry.

"Yep," she says. "We're staying here". I cry. I weep. I scream into her shoulder and wince as snot collects on my upper lip.

"I'm so sorry," I choke between sobs. "This is all my fault". Emma pulls back, resting her hands on my shoulders.

"Hey," she snaps. "Stop apologising. I'm going to start an apologising jar and every time you feel the need to say sorry for your existence, you're going to owe me a dollar". Laughing, I wipe my eyes.

"I don't have any money."

"Well, then it's bad luck for you, isn't it? Now, stop apologising". I start to cry again, harder this time.

"Come here, you big idiot," says Emma and she holds me while my world shatters and pieces itself back together.

"It's alright," she soothes. "There is nothing wrong with you. Everything will be okay and it's not your fault. Besides, it's the most fun I've had in a long time". I shake my head, wiping my eyes. Kneeling on the floor, the tiles breath ice into my shins.

Carefully, with one arm under my shoulder, Emma peels me off the floor, leading me towards the nearest couch. The charcoal cushions welcomed me with open arms.

Sitting next to me, Emma gestures to the door that Bo and Noah had just vacated.

"So," she begins, a smile creeping up her face. I roll my eyes. I know that smile. "Anything going on between you and that pretty, but possibly insane Doctor of yours?" Laughing, I wipe snot onto my forearm.

"Seriously?" I gape at her. "I have two personalities, my psychiatrist is the result of experimental biopsychological warfare, and you focus on that?"

"Of course. That other stuff is nowhere near as interesting". We're silent for a moment. Before exploding into fits of giggles on the couch. Like two naughty schoolgirls, one laugh turns to hysteria. Soon enough, we realise we can't stop. When the need for oxygen arises, we force ourselves out of our reverie. Emma, wiping her eyes – though I'm unsure if these are tears of laughter or shock – shuffles against the cushions.

"I mean, are you two getting married?" she asks. Playfully, I slap her arm.

"Be serious. It's not like that".

"Isn't it? Because I have eyes".

Smiling, I shake my head. I can't answer. With everything that's happened, I can't think about the future. The future isn't possible here, wherever I am. The present is all that matters, with the torch of the past guiding the way. My Mother, my real Mother's smile. Her warmth. Her comforting hand, placed at the small of my back. Packing my lunch, teaching me to make Frittatas. Her self-defence classes, which were mandatory when I turned nine. Her biology lectures. Biochemistry. I blink away the tears as my catharsis is replaced with fear. My Mother was a scientist. A Biochemist. She has a PHD, an MSc.

Holding my head in my arms, I focus on my breathing. Emma's voice is far off, but it's a pendulum. Slowly, ever so slowly, guiding me back into my body.

"What's wrong? Are you having a flashback or something? Dr. Light told me you could experience those," she says. I shake my head. Say nothing.

"You can tell me. I'm part of this now".

"But you weren't supposed to be!" My voice comes out louder than intended and Emma sits back, biting her lip. I hold up my hands.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at... I'm not sure who I'm angry with. Myself, I think. For letting you get involved". Emma rubs a hand over her face, groaning.

"For the last time, it wasn't your fault. You didn't drag us into this. We chose to get involved. I chose. And nothing will happen to us, but especially not to you. You're my friend, Alice." She leans closer, taking my hand in hers.

"I made that choice. And it was the best choice I ever made". I look up, meet her gaze. The gaze of a friend. Of a girl, who, after only knowing me for two months, risked her freedom to save me. Tears prickle, but this time, I gulp them down. I no longer have time to cry. My Mother was a Scientist. But that doesn't mean she is responsible for what happened to me. From what I can remember, she wasted her life trying to protect me. Protect us. Well, now we need to protect her. The two of us. Me and Alyssa. The girl in my head and the warmth in my heart.

My breath hitches. I can't believe I wanted to be alone. I can't believe I wanted to erase her when she is my sword. My trigger. She is the sword and the shield and the gun and the soft voice in my head when everything falls apart.

In silence, I ease myself off the sofa, striding to the duffel bag where a spare set of clothes blink at me. Emma soon follows.

"Your Doctor really lacks a sense of style," grins Emma and I shake my head. The clothes are dim, like swamp mud or quicksand, but they are perfect if we want to avoid being spotted. Liberating a pile of grey leggings, Emma disappears behind the sofa.

Blushing, I head into the back room – one of the bedrooms, I think. It's almost bare, with monochrome essentials such as the king-sized bed and the dresser with a series of empty drawers.

I slip out of the itchy facility gown. The clothes Emma has selected are black and tight – the kind of outfit Alyssa would swoon over. In my head, I picture the colourless shirt, jacket, and trousers as one flowing poncho, sky blue with tassels, or a violet dress. I must have been in the room for a while because soon Emma pops up behind me and I scream, jumping back.

"You were taking ages. Are you okay?" she asks. I nod, but my throat swells to the Sahara.

Carefully, Emma takes my arm and leads me back to the main room, near the kitchen.

"You are beautiful, you know, that right?" she says. I want to shake my head, but Alyssa writhes inside our mind. Perhaps we are, more than we know.

"Thank you," is all I say in the end. Before the door is flung from its hinges and figures clad in black storm the room. I scream. Emma screams. I pull her backwards, but the figures, men and women with guns clutched tightly in their gloved hands. A mountain bubbles in my throat. Bo and Noah are dragged into the room, eyes wide. And at the head of it all, Mrs. Karen Hill.

My arms go slack.

It's over.

Like a coward, I disappear.