They won’t break completely, just like I didn’t break completely. Lots of people tried, but they couldn’t do it. Like my mother. I almost tell Aden but I bite my tongue.

I survived. I got out. We both got out. I have all the patience Aden needs. For him, and for me. For both of us together.

Down, and over. Down, and over. I trace the corners with my eyes closed.

“Can you—” I can hear him exhale, as if he doesn’t want to ask this of me, but can’t keep the words inside. “Can you come out tonight?”

“I don’t know about tonight. I⁠—”

I open my eyes, then open the book. The page I flip to is worn down a little, too, because I always flip to this page.

It’s the page with Dean’s picture. I don’t know why I pulled this book out. I wasn’t thinking of it. I was thinking of what seeing him like that would do to me.

I remember when he looked like he does in this picture.

I remember everything about him when this photo was taken.

“I don’t know,” I say softly. “I don’t know.”

DEAN

10 years ago

Today is like any other day at this place. The shuffling of feet is vaguely heard in the background of the lunch hall, as is the slow drip of a leaking pipe.

The school. The prison. It doesn’t matter what it’s called. No names matter to me anymore.

The only person’s name that matters is the one belonging to that girl.

I still don’t have her name.

I listen whenever I can, hoping one of the teachers or staff members will let it slip. They talk about everyone in here the same way, without using many descriptions, so I’ve heard a few names. I’m not sure if any of them belong to her.

If I knew what her name was, I wouldn’t say it out loud. I’d keep it safe and protected. I definitely wouldn’t call to her even though I want to. That would be breaking every rule in this place, and I’d probably end up buried under the floorboards.

They’d never let me hear the end of that one. All the bastards here would want to know how I learned her name in the first place. They hate it when we know each other from outside.

Nothing scares these people, but I guess the thought of us finding each other and comparing notes in the outside world makes them a little nervous.

If I knew her name, the most I would do is whisper it under my breath when everybody else was asleep. Just to hear how it sounds coming from my lips.

I want to know the shape of it in my mouth.