MK was healing faster than anyone had expected.
Her vitals stabilized. The machines around her no longer screamed warnings. The doctors were cautiously optimistic, calling it resilience, calling it youth, calling it luck. But none of them saw what the nights did to her. None of them saw the way she stared at the ceiling long after the lights dimmed, her hand pressed over the scar on her chest as if she could still feel the bullet there.
It wasn't the wound that hurt anymore.
It was the waiting.
"Jesse," MK whispered one evening, her voice hoarse from disuse. "I can't hold on anymore."
Jesse, who had been pretending to scroll through her phone, froze. She didn't look up immediately. She already knew what MK meant. She had known since the first day MK woke up and asked the same question with cracked lips and frantic eyes.
Where is Shriya?
Jesse sighed and finally met her gaze."MK… you know the truth."
MK turned her head toward the window, the fading light painting shadows across her face. "You always say that," she murmured. "But it doesn't make it easier."
"She's still in prison," Jesse said gently, choosing her words carefully. "Maximum security. No visitors. Not even family."
MK's fingers curled into the sheets. "Jesse, please. I want her. I need to see her." Her voice broke, the words tumbling out like a confession she'd been holding too long. "I miss her so much it feels like I can't breathe."
Jesse stood up, pacing the room. "It's not that I don't want you to see her. It's that I can't make it happen. I've tried everything."
MK didn't respond. She just lay there, staring blankly ahead, as if something inside her had finally given up the fight.
For a moment, the room felt unbearably quiet.
As if their lives were still bound together by some cruel thread, Shriya was feeling the same desperation behind concrete walls and locked doors. No letters. No news. No proof that MK had survived—only the memory of her body going limp in her arms, blood soaking through her clothes.
That uncertainty was torture.
"The doctor says you'll be discharged tomorrow," Jesse said later, trying to lift the heaviness. "You should be happy."
"Mm," MK hummed, unconvincing.
After MK was discharged,days dragged on like a punishment.
MK lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the hospital. Her thoughts spiraled—until suddenly, something clicked.
Her eyes widened.
She sat up so fast the room spun.
"Why didn't I think of this before?" she whispered.
Her heart began to race—not with fear, but with resolve.
By the time Jesse received the message, dread had already settled in her gut.
She rushed to the courthouse, panic tightening her chest—and there, standing calmly at the defendant's bar, was MK.
She looked pale but determined. There was a strange, unsettling smile on her face.
"Have you lost your mind?" Jesse hissed as she approached.
MK glanced at her. "Will you stop asking me that every time?"
"This isn't funny," Jesse snapped. "MK, please don't do this."
"Tell my mom I'm sorry," MK said quietly.
"Tell her I disappointed her. And tell her… tell her I love women. No—" she corrected herself, swallowing. "Tell her I love Shriya."
Jesse's eyes widened. "What are you planning?"
"I can't live without her," MK said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "If they won't give her back to me… then I'm going to her."
"This is maximum security," Jesse pleaded. "These aren't people like you, MK. It's dangerous. You won't survive."
MK smiled sadly. "I already didn't."
Jesse felt tears burn her eyes. She thought of Ashley, of love that still allowed her space to breathe. This—this was different. This was devotion so deep it erased self-preservation.
"People here still love you," Jesse tried one last time. "Your mom. Wes."
MK reached into her pocket and handed her a card. "Give this to Wes. Tell her not to spend it all at once."
Jesse stared at it, speechless.
"Without her," MK continued softly, "it feels like I'm missing a limb. I'm not whole without her."
Jesse nodded slowly. "If the Robertsons get her out… I'm coming for you."
"I know," MK said, smiling—really smiling—for the first time in weeks.
"And Jesse," she added lightly, "you can give yourself a raise."
Jesse laughed through her tears. "I was hoping you'd fire me."
"I still can."
"Please don't."
They shared one last look before MK was led away.
Behind her, Jesse stood frozen. Ahead of her, MK walked into uncertainty.
But for the first time since the warehouse, her heart felt strangely calm.joy even.
Because wherever Shriya was—
Her heart was there.