• ARCHER •

05/11/2023
    
     ME: Is Amalia okay?

     XANDER: Yes.

12/11/2023

     ME: Is Amalia okay?

     XANDER: Yes.

19/11/2023

     ME: Is Amalia okay?

     XANDER: Yes.

26/11/2023

     ME: Is Amalia okay?

     XANDER: Yes.

03/12/2023

ME: Is Amalia okay?

XANDER: Yes.

I look at the messages and sigh. I wish I'd get more of an answer. I want to know what she's doing, what she's thinking, what she's feeling. I want to know everything.

An unknown number calls me suddenly, and I furrow my eyebrows as I answer it. "Hello?" I question.

"Archer?" Oliver's voice protrudes from the speaker.

"Ollie?"

"Yeah, hey." He says. "How're you doing?"

"Fine." I respond. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He tells me.

I bite my tongue to keep from asking about Amalia. I'm the one who said we shouldn't talk, and we've both kept to that. It'd be unfair and hypocritical of me to—

"So, Amalia," Oliver says, and relief overtakes all of my emotions, thankful that he brought it up. But then I register his slightly worried tone too late and sit up in my bed.

"Is she okay?" I ask.

"Edie and Mia went to her house today, and she wasn't there. She's in a mental hospital."

"What?"

"I just thought I'd tell you.. because, well, I don't know. Maybe you wanted to know."

     "Do you think I should go there?"

     "Go where?" He asks.

     "The mental hospital, to see her."

     "Aren't you in Glasgow?"

     "Yeah."

     "What's it like there?" He questions.

     "Shit." I say. "Do you think I should try see her?" I repeat.

     "I mean, yeah. How are you gonna get here, though?"

     I'm already looking up trains to Oxford, and I find one that's in three hours. I could make that, and a return ticket is cheap too. Without even thinking, I book the train.

     "I just got a train."

     "Really?" He asks.

     "Yeah."

     "Fuck, okay." He says quickly. "I can pick you up from the station if you want? I got my license."

     "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

     "Okay." He says. "Just let me know when you're almost here."

     "Alright. Thank you."

     "It's okay." He replies. "I'll talk to you later." He adds, then ends the call. I save his number and rush out of my room, and into my mothers. It's eleven o'clock at night, so I expect her to be asleep, but she isn't. She's reading a book in bed.

     "I booked a train." I tell her.

     "Where?" She questions.

     "Oxford. I'm gonna go see Amalia."

     She sighs. "Archer.."

     "I really have to see her." I say.

     "Fine." She replies, and I realise she thought I wouldn't go even if she said no. Nothing could stop me from catching that train in three hours. "I'll drop you off at the station."

     "Thank you. I'm gonna go shower." I say quickly.

     As I walk out of her room, Ally's door opens. My nerves relax a bit when she steps outside, sleepy with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her teddy bear tucked to her stomach.

     "Archie?" She says quietly, rubbing her eyes.

     I smile softly. Ever since we came here, she's basically been my best friend. Which, now that I think about it, is incredibly sad.

     Still, I don't think I'd have it any other way.

     "Hey, kid." I say, walking over to her and ruffling her blonde curls. I lean down and lift her up, and she snuggles into me immediately, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I won't be here tomorrow." I tell her.

     "Why?" She asks.

     "I'm going somewhere."

     "Where?" She asks impatiently as I walk into her bedroom with her in my arms. Her room is plain, and conventionally aesthetic. Ally wanted her room pink and green, but our mum said that it didn't fit in with her theme and that she'd regret it later in life. I don't like her room, because I know she doesn't like it. It should be colourful and full with toys, but instead it looks like an office, or something.

     "It's a secret." I don't tell her it's to try see Amalia, because she'd ask to come with me, and this isn't organised enough to bring her with me.

     "Will you get me a sausage roll from Greggs on your way back?" She asks me quietly, her head falling off my shoulder as I set her on the mattress, folding the duvet over her.

     I laugh. "Sure I will." I say, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I'll see you soon. I love you."

     "I love me too." She says.

     I roll my eyes and go over to the door. I'm about to step out when she mumbles: "I love you as well, Archie."

     "I love me too." I mock her, and she huffs and turns around. I smirk as I leave her bedroom, and as soon as I get to mine again, my nerves spike once more.

• MASON •

"Jenna." I say, "Jenna, Jenna, Jenna."

     "What do you want?" She asks.

     "You're so rude to me." I say.

     She rolls her eyes.

     "See? So much attitude."

     "Shut up. You sound like my mum."

     "I love your mum." I tell her.

     "You better shut up. You're always hitting on her."

     I laugh. "No I'm not."

     "You are. You're like, hi, Mrs Turner, that dress is lovely." She mocks my voice as she speaks, making me laugh again.

     "You mean I be nice?" I question.

     "Don't lie. You're trying to get with my mother."

     I laugh again. "Yeah, I'm gonna be your new dad."

     She slaps my arm. "That really isn't funny, Mason!"

"Relax. I don't have a crush on your mum. I have a crush on someone else." I wink at her.

"Yeah? What's she like?"

"She's ugly, has a massive stick up her ass—"

She slaps my arm again, this time harder. "You're a bully."

"She also has a sexy ass mum—"

"Mason!"

I grin. "You know I'm joking. You're gorgeous."

"Is that all you want to correct?" She asks me.

"What else did I say that was wrong?"

"That I have a stick up my ass." She frowns.

I glance at her in the corner of my eye, and she rolls her eyes again. "I don't. I'm very relaxed."

"You're very annoying."

"I don't know why I put up with you." She says, shuffling beside me again. I wrap a heavy arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me. She leans against my side, then rests her head against mine. I kiss her cheek, and she sighs. "I guess that's why."

My grin widens.

• AMALIA •

"Lia." I wake up to the sound of my dads gentle voice, and I clench my eyes shut, trying to block it out. I try to block everything out, covering my eyes with the duvet to protect them from the light shining in from the window.

"Sweetheart, I have some breakfast for you." He says.

I bury myself deeper beneath the covers, curling my arms around myself.

"Amalia." He whispers again. "Please eat some food."

I shake my head, even though he can't see me. I feel him set his hand on my back. I move away from it, and the sound of his sigh makes guilt roll through me. But why should I care about that if he didn't care about anything I said last night? He didn't even listen to me.

He probably thinks I'm crazy. Everyone probably thinks I'm crazy.

"Amalia." He says. "Why don't we go into one of the day rooms? They have sketch pads there. You can draw something. You haven't done any art for a while, have you?"

I don't want to do art.

"We can wait for your brothers to come and we can all play one of the board games. We can bring it in here, if you want. Do you remember how we used to always play board games when there were thunderstorms?" He asks. "It would help the time pass by, and distract you when you got afraid."

I don't want to think about when I was afraid.

"Amalia." He says, desperation coating the word. "Please talk to me, baby girl."

I don't want to talk, because no one will listen to what I have to say. He proved that. I always thought he'd be the one believing me, or at least looking into what I have to say. But he didn't even consider it. He just brushed it aside—brushed me aside.

I never thought that he would do that, especially not so easily. Does he hate me for what I tried to do? Probably. If one of my brothers tried killing themselves, or if he did, I'd hate them for even thinking about leaving me here, let alone acting on it.

"Amalia."

I don't respond.

"Amalia."

He keeps saying my name, sounding an awful lot like he's about to cry, and as much as my heart aches and tells me to answer him, I don't.

•

Xander, Grayson and Cole come later on in the day. The nurse comes inside and asks to speak to my dad, and he leaves me with my older brothers.

"Amalia." Xander says. "I wanna show you something."

I don't acknowledge the fact he said something at all.

"It's really cool." Cole says.

"Yeah." Grayson adds.

When I don't react, Xander stands from where he's sitting by the desk and walks over to the bed. I feel the mattress dip beneath his weight. He sets his hand on my back, then runs a gentle hand through my brown hair.

"Dad told us what happened last night." He begins. I tense up immediately, my entire body stiffening beneath his hand, which he moves to rub my back. I brace for him to tell me that I'm crazy, or insinuate it somehow. Maybe they'll all gang up on me and tell me how delusional I am, and that I deserve to be here.

I don't. I'm not crazy. I saw my mum on that recording, and I know she's here. Or she was. I can't remember if the file had a date on it. But she was in this facility just like I am now.

But, much to my surprise, they don't call me psycho.

     "How are you feeling?" He questions. I slide my tired gaze over to him, and he smiles. Then he tilts his head, and when he talks again his voice has taken on a calmer, softer edge. "You know, Amalia, we just wanna help you. And we all want you home."

     If they wanted me home I'd be there.

"Here, try eat some food."

I turn away from him again. He sighs and moves closer to me, sitting right next to me on the bed. My mind flashes back to two months ago, when I woke up the night after I went to that stupid party, and he was beside me, ready to tell me off for it.

I wish I could go back to that time, before I was kidnapped, before my life became a hellhole.

Before I fell in love with Archer.

But would I take that back? I don't want to lose any of the memories we made, but I want all of the negative ones to flee my mind. I only want to remember the good, not the bad that I inflicted upon him. Archer—and Ally—didn't deserve to go through any of that.

But they did. All because of me.

     The thought sends a pang through my chest, and I curl my arms around myself, fighting the urge to cry.

     Like always.

A/N: Thanks so much for 400k reads on this story!

Also, I'm going to be taking one of my stories off hold soon. Which do you guys want me to start updating again? I'll write each one in the comments, and reply to it if you want that one!