Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 88

(Cylan's POV)

The room was too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder, sharper, and impossible to ignore. I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring at my phone screen. Emily's first ever message replayed in my head on a loop: "I'm locked up somewhere in the center. It's dark, and I don't know where I am."

But that wasn't all that haunted me.

My thumb hovered over the call log. Ellen's name was at the top. Her trembling and broken voice still echoed in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memory surged forward anyway.

•

It had been two nights ago. I was sitting in the common room, scrolling mindlessly on my phone, when a nurse appeared. Just from her face alone, I knew shit was waiting in store for me. "Cylan," she called in a clipped tone. "You have an urgent call."

I followed her into the staff corridor, my heart pounding. Who could it be? When I picked up the receiver, Ellen's voice came through. She sounded weak and ragged, which was so not like her. "Cylan," she whispered.

My stomach dropped. "Ellen? What's wrong?"

"I... I'm in the hospital," her words were slurring slightly. "He... he found out."

I didn't need her to say more. My chest tightened. "Your fiancé?"

"He knows about us," she continued, "He... he called me disgusting. The fact I was still...keeping in touch with my ex... he said he thought we were just friends from highschool. Said I was...that we were a mistake...him and I. And then he..." She trailed off, but I could hear her stifled sobs.

"Ellen, where are you? What hospital?" My words came out rushed and frantic.

When she spoke again,

"What?"

into their

"Ellen, stop-"

me," she interrupted sharply

promise," I whispered and my throat

then the line went

•

my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. Ellen was out there, hurt and alone, because of me. Emily was somewhere in this hellhole, begging for

sit

playing house with Thomas, completely oblivious to the real

Emily and expose the

lose. People who were just as desperate as I

I'd need a plan. Something to infiltrate the staff quarters or even the West Wing. Emily's messages suggested she was somewhere deep inside the center, hidden away where no

hope ignited in me. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I had

•

(Angel's POV)

I expected. My cheek throbbed, but I didn't stop. Again and again, I brought my hand down, the sound

breath. My

the faint

smile, his touch, the way he made me forget about everything else. It was intoxicating, blinding. And Hendrix... his distance hurt more than I wanted to admit. Every time he looked at me