I shudder at the memory of Earl between my legs, stealing away my faith in humanity. I’m confident my light will be entirely snuffed out if there is ever an end to this persecution. There is no going back to my former self.

Dean whispers at me through the dark after my words leave a foreboding chill in the air. “Goodnight, Cora.”

My breath catches on the inhale. “Goodnight.”

The minutes tick by. I count them.

Six minutes and thirty-five seconds.

It’s too quiet, which means my brain is loud and turbulent. It refuses to rest—and I don’t blame it, really. I swallow down my pride, burying my face further into the valley between my knees. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

I wet my lips and close my eyes. I can’t believe I’m asking him this, but it’s easier to be vulnerable in the dark… and when you have nothing to lose. “Can you sing to me?”

My belly swims with nerves, and I wonder if my request is too intimate. Too bold. Maybe I’m asking too much of someone who isn’t even my friend. But the sound of his voice, all gravel and grit, singing my favorite song, lulled me to sleep earlier, and I’m desperate for a few hours of peace. I need to dream myself out of this prison.

Dean is silent for a few heartbeats, and I’m worried he’s going to ignore me. Shut me down. I’m about to apologize, backtrack, tell him to forget about it, but then he replies:

“Any requests?”

A calming sensation washes over me and my body relaxes. “You can sing Hey Jude again if you want. It’s my favorite.”

“I know,” he says softly.

He knows? We’ve never discussed our favorite songs with each other before. I’ve never cared to know his favorite anything, and I assumed he felt the same way. But I suppose when you know someone for fifteen years, whether you like them or not, you’re bound to pick up on little things along the way.

When his voice infiltrates the darkness and fills the silence with rich music, I find myself drifting away almost instantly. It’s something familiar. Something beautiful. Something good I can latch onto, absorb, and get lost in. I hum the verses into my knees right along with him until sleep eventually takes over and whisks me someplace else.

I dream about the ocean again.

The water is lapping at my toes, pulling me in like a magnet. Beckoning me with its depth and mystery. Tempting me with its lifeforce.

I jump in.

And I swim away.

Before I know it, a beam of light is caressing the side of my face and I begin to stir. My neck is stiff and sore, and I almost cry out in pain as I lift my head from my knees. I instinctively try to raise my hand and massage away the kink, but I’m denied the privilege when my cuffs catch against the pole—a sinister reminder of my predicament.