At times, I wonder if I brought this on myself. Because Judge warned me. Over and over, he warned me. He told me he wouldn't marry. He told me I didn't want to know him this way, and now I understand why. His words were clear, but it doesn't change what I feel. And I do feel... too much.

I wanted to believe I was simply seeking comfort from him. But the truth is, I wanted something that could never be. I didn't care about his warnings. I felt something with Judge I've never felt with anyone else in my life. There has always been a yearning there. One I've tried to ignore, tried to stifle. But it lived on, and he breathed life into it with every look, every touch, every moment of connection he offered, as rare as they may have been.

I can't put a label on what these feelings are. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because it doesn't matter how I feel. He's proven that, and it's time I grow the fuck up and start listening. He's shown me who he is, and now I have to accept it.

My heart is heavy with sadness as I sit by the window and contemplate what I have to do. The prospect of leaving everything I've ever known behind is terrifying, but the alternative is slowly dying inside if I don’t.

It won't be easy. There's no doubt in my mind they'll try to drag me back. But Georgie and Solana will help me. They will harbor me until I can figure out how I'm going to survive in a world I've never really been a part of.

I spend a week putting the pieces together. Admittedly, a part of me still thinks Judge will come to me. He will knock on my door and tell me it's all a lie. He will find a way to prove he didn't willingly take a butcher knife to my heart. But I would die holding my breath if I was waiting for that to happen.

It's a Tuesday evening when the opportunity I've been waiting for finally arrives. I’ve thought of all my options, exhausting them completely, and the one I settled on is the one that hurts the most. Because it means I have to manipulate my only friend in this house to get what I need.

When Lois comes to deliver my dinner, I lie and tell her I’m not feeling well, complaining that I’m hot and nauseous. She takes pity on me, as I knew she would, and unlocks the smallest window, cracking it open to let some fresh air in. I thank her and pretend to go back to sleep, guilt eating at me as I consider that she might get in trouble for this too. But all I can hope is that Judge won’t blame her.