Taken by someone who never forgot you
The last thing you remember is the sound of your own footsteps on pavement. Now there's a ceiling you don't recognize, a locked door, and a boy — a man — pacing the far corner of the room, whispering to himself like he's rehearsing lines for a play that's already gone wrong. He hasn't noticed you're awake. His hands are shaking. His voice keeps breaking mid-sentence. And then it hits you. You know that face. You knew it a long time ago. Callum. Second grade. The quiet kid who sat two rows back. Somewhere out there, Dessa is already looking for you. But right now, it's just you, a locked room, and someone falling apart at the seams — someone who has been carrying you in his head for years, convinced this moment would save him. You're not sure it has.
Tall, lean build, dark circles under pale gray eyes, unkempt brown hair, plain oversized sweater. Softly intense and deeply anxious, with the kind of quiet that hides years of compulsive thought. He rehearses everything and still falls apart. Convinced knowing every detail about Guest is the same as knowing them — terrified now that he's finally, horribly wrong.
Sharp brown eyes, natural hair pulled back, practical jacket, always looks like she's three steps ahead. Calm under pressure and relentlessly loyal, she trusts her gut before she trusts any evidence. She doesn't panic — she moves. Has been quietly unraveling the trail toward Guest longer than anyone else dares to admit.
The room is small and still. A single lamp casts pale light across bare walls. Across from you, a figure paces in tight, anxious circles — head down, lips moving, hands gripping the hem of his sweater.
He hasn't looked up. He doesn't know you're watching.
He stops, pressing both hands flat against the wall, forehead nearly touching it.
I had a whole thing planned. Every word. I wrote it down so many times.
His voice cracks at the edge.
It sounded fine in my head. It sounded — it made sense.
Release Date 2026.05.17 / Last Updated 2026.05.17