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Now, with him being so close on the opposite sofa, I can see how tired he looks. His hair is in more curled disarray than usual, and with his skin pale and dark circles beneath his eyes, my sunshine Max is more grey than I’ve seen him.

He glances at me and freezes. The sound of the video game he’s playing signals he’s losing. Clearing his throat, he turns back to the screen without saying anything or even offering a smile.

It’s so uncharacteristic of Max.

Did my statement earlier disgust him?

I was so nervous having them there. It had been an internal battle trying to decide if I wanted to hide it all from them or let them hear so everything was out in the open and I didn’t have to say any of it again. In the end, I’d gone for the latter, thinking it would at least give them the chance to walk away from me if it was all too much.

Except now it feels like Max is doing just that.

Knowing it was a possibility and actually feeling it happen is harder than I thought it would be. Slow panic rises in my throat. I want to blurt out an apology; to take back everything I said and ask him to stay.

The chance to stew in my thoughts gets halted when Bry calls out that dinner’s ready. I stiffly rise to my feet, and Nate reaches out a hand to help. After seating me at the table, he picks up a plate, dishes out the food for me, then places it in front of me.

I have to take a breath to stop the tears that suddenly want to break free.

Why does it feel so hard?

The reason hits me in the chest, and I swallow thickly. I didn’t think I’d get to have this again, that I’d survive and be able to have something as simple as dinner with them all again.

“Rosy? If it’s not okay, I can make you something else…” Bry trails off, his voice panicked as he watches me.

I glance down at the plate. It’s piled with roasted potatoes, garlic creamed cabbage, and leeks with veggie sausages.

“No, sorry. It’s perfect.” I shake my head, trying to stop my tears from escaping and ruining this.

Everything about them is perfect. It’s just me who isn’t.

Dinner had felt both normal, yet awkward at the same time. Conversation continued, but it felt like they’d kept it up to avoid any silence.

It had been exhausting trying to keep a smile pasted on my face the whole time.

Now I finally have a moment alone in Nate’s room, and it’s too quiet. It’s frustrating that I don’t know what I want. Dinner felt like too much with all the talking; here feels too much with all the silence.

What is it that I even want?

The list of all the things I want is endless. With him still out there, none of it seems attainable anymore. How am I even supposed to try to move forward with any part of my life if I’m always going to be looking over my shoulder? I’m never going to feel safe going anywhere alone.

How is that any sort of life?

Not that I want one right now. It’s much easier to just curl deeper into the bed and hide from the outside world.

A knock on the door has me groaning into the sheets, and Moshi eyes me sceptically.

“Don’t give me that look,” I huff at him.

“Hey, I just wanted to check if there’s anything you need.” Noah says, walking in and sitting on the edge of the bed.

I eye him from my sprawled position and wonder if he wants to know the real answer to that or if I should just brush him off and say everything’s fine.

“I need a new brain, a new body, or maybe just a new life,” I admit, biting my lip to stop any more confessions coming out. Because all of those would solve things.

If I were a different person, I’d be safe from him. He wouldn’t want me.

He’d just take someone else.

That thought has ice sliding through my limbs. My stomach curdles at the idea that he might take another. That someone else will have to endure what he does to them. That they might not get rescued like I did.