Chapter 28
Suddenly I’m back in the springs, in darkness. My heart starts beating uncontrollably.
I’m running.
My feet are bare this time, slapping against wet sand that keeps turning into mud, sucking me backward no matter how hard I push forward. My lungs burn. My chest feels tight, like something is sitting on it, crushing me.
“Bella.”
The voice comes from everywhere. From nowhere.
I spin around and the trees are wrong. Too tall. Too close. Their branches twist inward like fingers reaching for me. My heart pounds so loudly I swear the forest can hear it.
I run harder.
The air smells like cologne.
My stomach drops.
“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no–”
I trip, hitting the ground hard. My hands slide through something warm and slick. I lift them and they’re covered in blood. Too much blood. My blood.
A flashlight snaps on.
Liam stands there smiling, calm, like this is normal.
“Why are you running?” he asks softly. “You promised you wouldn’t.”
I try to scream, but nothing comes out. My throat closes, my body frozen, useless. He steps closer and suddenly I’m back in the trunk… dark, cramped, the air thin. My wrists burn where the rope cuts into my skin.
I can’t breathe.
The lid slams shut.
Darkness presses in from all sides, crushing me, swallowing me whole. My chest tightens until it feels like it’s going to split open…
“Bella.”
A different voice.
Gentler.
Light slices through the darkness. I see brown eyes, warm, steady… James. He’s holding his hand out to me.
“Come on,” he says. “You’re safe.”
I reach for him–
And the ground gives way.
I’m falling. Falling. Falling-
I gasp awake, bolting upright in the hospital bed, heart racing, lungs fighting for air. My sheets are twisted around me, soaked in sweat. My head throbs. The monitor beeps faster in response.
“It’s okay,” I whisper to myself, clutching my chest. “It’s over. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
But my hands are shaking.
And even as the room comes back into focus, the IV, the pale walls, the quiet hum of machines… I can still smell the cologne.
And I know this is only the beginning.
Is this going to go on forever? Am I going to think of him for the rest of my life? Am I going to be scared for the rest of my life? No, I will not let him take anything else from me. It’s just because it’s fresh. I will not allow him to take any more peace from me.
I wake up with my parents and the doctor talking in the corner.
“What’s everybody talking about?”
“Good Morning Isabel.” Dr. Katz begins walking over to my bed, and sits on the edge “I was just telling your parents that you have been through something traumatic so I think, in my professional opinion, you should stay home from school the first semester.”
“Excuse me? Absolutely not! I just paid my first semester in cash which is non-refundable! I am not losing thousands of dollars because of some psychopath! This is not happening” I lay my head back, tears stinging my eyes full of anger.
“Okay, then let's make a compromise.”
“Which is?”
“You start going to see a psychiatrist for your PTSD, twice a week for the entire semester and I will release you to go, as long as you get the go ahead from her. You need to see somebody to help you, or you will be an anxious mess constantly, and the panic attacks will only get worse. You last saw him in St. Augustine,” Dr. Katz continues carefully, his tone shifting, softer now but firm, “which means he may still be there… or he may not be. But what I do know is that trauma doesn’t end when the danger does.
Your body doesn’t know the threat is gone yet. ”
I turn my head toward him, jaw tight. “So you’re saying I’m broken.”
“No,” he says immediately. “I’m saying you’re injured.
There’s a difference. And injuries need treatment, and time to heal.
Think of it as a broken bone. If you keep walking on a broken leg it will only get worse, and will heal improperly until medical intervention will be needed and then by that point you may be in permanent pain.
Your brain is the same way, if you do not receive help –treatment– your brain will rewire and it may be too far beyond helping. So I want you to get help…now.”
I scoff, blinking hard. “I survived being kidnapped. I escaped. I ran through the woods bleeding. I don’t need someone asking me how that made me feel.”
Dr. Katz doesn’t flinch. “You’re right… you did survive. But surviving isn’t the same as healing.”
Silence fills the room.
My mom reaches for my hand, tentative. “Bella… sweetheart–”
“I’m not weak,” I snap, then instantly regret it when my voice cracks. “I just… I refuse to let him take anything else from me. Not my education. Not my future. Not my brain.”
Dr. Katz nods slowly. “And I respect that. Truly. Which is why this is a compromise, not a punishment.”
He leans forward slightly. “Twice a week therapy. You keep your grades up. You listen to your body. And the moment the psychiatrist says you’re not ready–we pause. Not quit. Pause.”
I stare at the ceiling, chest rising and falling too fast.
“What if I say no?” I ask quietly.
“Then I don’t clear you,” he answers just as quietly. “And I hate doing that to someone as driven as you… but I’d hate it more if you pushed yourself straight into a breakdown.”
My dad clears his throat. “Bella… honey… this doesn’t make you less strong.”
I close my eyes.
Images flash – darkness, trees, Liam’s voice, the trunk, the blood, the smell.
Then James’s hand.
Noah running.My mom is screaming my name.
“I don’t want to be scared all the time,” I whisper.
Dr. Katz nods once. “Then let someone help you carry it.”
A long pause.
“…Fine,” I say finally, voice tight. “Twice a week. For the semester. But I’m going to school.”
A small, relieved smile crosses his face. “Deal.”
He stands, pats my foot gently. “I’ll have psych come by today to introduce themselves. No pressure. Just a conversation.”
As he walks out, my mom squeezes my hand.
I stare ahead, jaw set, heart aching but steady.
He doesn’t get my future.
Not my education.Not my mind.Not my life.
And this time… I’m not running.
I’m fighting.