Andrea stayed still.
That was the first thing that broke Tom.
Hours passed in the basement — or minutes, it didn't matter. The light above her hummed faintly, swinging just enough to cast moving shadows across her face. She hadn't tested the restraints again. Hadn't cursed. Hadn't begged.
She just watched him.
"You're not even scared," Tom muttered, pacing.
Andrea lifted her eyes lazily. "If I was scared," she said, "you'd already be dead."
Bill flinched.
Gustav swallowed.
Georg shifted, uneasy.
Tom stopped pacing.
"Do you hear yourself?" he snapped. "This is exactly why you can't be out there."
Andrea smiled faintly. Not cruel. Almost fond.
"You knocked me out in public," she said. "Dragged me into your basement. Chained me up. And you think I'm the problem."
Silence.
Tom rubbed his face. "I'm trying to save you."
Andrea's voice softened. That was worse.
"No," she said. "You're trying to save yourself from me."
That landed.
Hard.
UPSTAIRS — THE LIE
Bill stood at the window later that night, watching headlights pass.
"They're asking questions," he said quietly. "Paparazzi. Police. Everyone knows she was seen near here."
Tom didn't look up. "I'll handle it."
"You're already lying," Georg said. "You know that, right?"
Tom slammed a cabinet shut. "I won't let her destroy us."
From the basement, Andrea listened.
She could hear everything.
She always could.
THE VISIT
Tom went down alone.
He crouched in front of her, eye-level now.
"I can get you help," he said. "Therapists. Doctors. Somewhere safe."
Andrea studied his face. The exhaustion. The fear. The love that had twisted into something sharp.
"Atlanta had doctors," she said. "They stitched me up so I could go back out and bleed again."
Tom's jaw tightened. "You didn't have to stay there."
Andrea leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed.
"I did," she whispered. "Because everyone I loved was already dead."
That did it.
Tom reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Not hard.
Not violent.
Possessive.
Andrea's pupils dilated.
For one terrifying second, something ancient and lethal woke up inside her. She mapped the room automatically — the bolt above, Tom's throat, the angle, the speed.
She could end him.
She wanted to.
Her fingers curled.
Then—
She stopped.
Not because of morality.
Because she was curious.
Andrea relaxed back into the chair.
Tom froze, realizing what almost happened.
"You felt that," she said softly. "Didn't you?"
Tom let go, breath shaking.
"That's why you locked me up," Andrea continued. "Not because I'm dangerous."
She tilted her head.
"But because I choose when to be."
THE WORLD OUTSIDE
The headline dropped at dawn.
ANDREA JOHNSON MISSING IN BERLIN
FEARED COBRA KAI SURVIVOR VANISHES
Old photos resurfaced.
Names resurfaced.
Hawk Moskowitz.
Miguel Diaz.
Robby Keene.
Kenny Payne.
Bert.
Kyler.
Mitch.
The dead kids people pretended not to mourn.
Someone said on air:
"If Andrea Johnson is gone… someone finally made a move."
Sam watched from a hotel room, hands trembling.
"She wouldn't disappear," Sam whispered. "She'd fight."
Johnny stared at the screen.
"No," he said quietly. "She wouldn't."
Tory Nichols smiled at the news.
Berlin suited her.
Andrea staying still meant one thing.
Someone had tried to cage her.
And cages always break.
BACK IN THE BASEMENT
Andrea closed her eyes for the first time since waking.
Not to sleep.
To remember Hawk's voice.
Robby's laugh.
The way restraint used to mean trust.
When she opened them again, she looked straight at the stairs.
Bill stood there.
"I won't tell him," Bill said quietly. "If you leave."
Andrea searched his face.
Then she shook her head.
"I'm not leaving yet."
Bill frowned. "Why?"
Andrea smiled — slow, dangerous, deliberate.
"Because this," she said, "is the moment people reveal who they really are."
Upstairs, Tom poured himself another drink, hands shaking.
Downstairs, Andrea Johnson waited.
Not trapped.
Just patient.