I knew what was coming next: the pain, the complete darkness.

My breathing picked up, and I placed my hands on the table to steady myself. Everything screamed at me to run in the other direction.

You’re helping the other victims. Do it for them.

I had to remind myself of that over and over, forcing myself to continue.

I felt warmth over one of my hands and realized Stone had reached out to grab it. His touch made me feel a little safer.

I walked out of the bar and stood outside, trying to gain my bearings and figure out which way was the best way to reach the beach. Everything felt a bit hazy, and my mind started to feel cloudy, but I dismissed it as being distracted. The nausea didn’t get any better. I could barely focus long enough to look at my phone and find directions. The music had still been playing in the background, and I remembered taking a small step forward.

“I hadn’t felt well,” I said to Stone. “I remember it being hard to focus, and it taking me a while to even figure out which way to head to the beach.”

“Was it the pregnancy?” he asked.

I never thought about it at the time, but now, I was certain.

“No, I don’t think it was,” I said firmly. “I always assumed that’s why I started not to feel well, but no matter what I do, that night is a blur. I can barely remember anything, besides the fact that my head felt fuzzy, and then it’s just black.”

“You were drugged,” Stone guessed.

Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Never once had I considered it. I didn’t stick around long enough at the hospital to know if they ever tested me.

I walked without another thought. I was confident I was heading toward the beach, but the cloudier my head became, the harder it was to keep track of my surroundings. 

Something hard and blunt hit my head, my legs giving out. I remembered the feeling of my knees hitting the ground, the stinging pain of the pavement against them. I definitely did not make it to the beach. 

I tried to look up, but my head felt heavy, another hit forcing me to the ground completely. 

A mind-splitting headache spread across my skull.

My breathing picked up, and I felt Stone squeeze my hand tighter. I couldn’t do this. There was nothing further to remember, everything just black from there on.

“Len,” Stone said slowly. “You can do this.”

I was tempted to open my eyes, to find his gentle brown eyes watching me, protecting me every step of the way. If I did, this would all end.

The pain, the torture, the burden of remembering.

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped, my other hand grasping at my chest.

My mind wouldn’t push on.