I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest heaving, my entire body shaking from the weight of it.

Her hand found my hair, her fingers sliding through it like she had done a thousand times before. She rocked us slightly, whispering something low and soothing into my ear, but I couldn’t make out the words.

I didn’t deserve this.

I didn’t deserve her.

But I needed her anyway. So I let myself be there, with the only person who had ever made the dark feel a little less terrifying.

She let out a slow, shaky breath. “You’re safe,” she whispered. “I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve got you.”

She squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.

It wasn’t enough.

I pressed my forehead against her neck, too tired to care about how pathetic I must have looked.

Beverly shifted, leaning back just enough to look at me, but not enough to let go. Her hands came up to cradle my face. “Blake,” she said, voice shaking. “What happened?”

I swallowed hard, my arms tightening around her waist.

I made a sound that wasn’t a word.

I couldn’t speak.

She stroked my cheek, her thumb brushing against my temple. “It’s the room, isn’t it?” she said carefully. “A different place, different bed... Your brain didn’t know where it was,” she added, as if she was piecing things together in her head. “I remember that one time you stayed over at Jamal’s and didn’t sleep at all. You just stayed up reading his dumb wrestling magazines all night⁠—”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“Don’t,” she said softly. “Don’t say sorry. Not to me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“What do you need?” she asked, her fingers brushing over my knuckles. “Do you want water? Do you wanna… I don’t know…talk? Tell me what you need, Blake.”

The answer was easy. “I want to go home.”

The words barely made it out. They cracked open something inside me, something I had been forcing down for months.

For a second, I wasn’t in this hotel room.

I was in my bed, with the sound of Beverly’s VHS tapes playing in the other room. I was in my own space, in the only place that had ever felt safe. I was back home, where I could count the cracks in my ceiling, where I knew the way the air smelled, where I could press my hand against the wall and know that Beverly was right there, just on the other side.

I just wanted to go home.

Beverly sighed softly. I already knew the answer.

Blake, we’re in another country…

It’s the middle of the night…

We’re supposed to be here for a week…

But she didn’t say any of that.