Chapter 3

Pierce had held my hand and pointed at the sky.

"Look how big it is out here. It's not cramped at all. How about we walk home?

"No elevator, no car. We can take all afternoon if we want."

That day, we walked for two and a half hours to get home.

He bought me roasted chestnuts from a street cart and told me about climbing trees in the countryside when he was a kid. He talked the entire way and kept making me laugh.

Back in the present day, Pierce came home carrying a bag at 6:30 PM.

"Nessa wanted me to bring you these. They're organic blueberries from a farm near her internship site. She says they're good for anxiety."

He washed the blueberries and set the bowl in front of me, smiling. "See how much she cares about you?"

I stared at the blueberries, each one plump, dark purple, and beaded with water. I suddenly could not remember what blueberries tasted like.

It was not a problem with my taste buds. I was simply losing the ability to feel, bit by bit.

Two weeks later, I came out of the bathroom to see the living room looking different. The floor-to-ceiling windows had been covered with a layer of dark tinting film. The entire room was dim, the light muted and boxed in.

My heart rate spiked. My hands clenched of their own volition.

Pierce leaned out of the study. "Nessa says you need to gradually adjust to changes in light too. We’re starting by reducing it."

I rushed over. The second my fingers touched the glass, Pierce grabbed me from behind.

"Nessa says this is part of the process you need to go through. If you tear it off, all the progress goes to waste.

"Every time you panic, you run. How are you ever going to get better?"

His grip was strong. I could not move.

"I don't need to adjust!" I broke free, my voice shaking badly.

"Take the film off."

"Ainsley, calm down." His tone was still soft, but impatience had crept in.

I pulled away from him, walked into the kitchen, opened the knife block, and pulled out a paring knife.

I walked to the window and dragged the blade down.

The tinting film split open in a long gash. Sunlight squeezed through the gap.

"Ainsley!"

I did not stop. The film tore to shreds under the blade, and light poured back into the room.

Pierce's expression changed. "Have you lost your mind? Do you know how much that film cost? Do you know how long Nessa spent finding it?"

"I don't care what it cost."

Pierce lunged forward and snatched the knife from my hand.

"The doctor said I can't be exposed to any more enclosed environments. Dimming the light is simulating an enclosed space. How is that so hard to understand?"

My voice was steadier than I thought it would be.

"Ainsley, can you stop assuming the worst about everything? Nessa just adjusted the lighting. She didn't lock you in. If you keep jumping at shadows like this, you’re only going to get worse."

Pierce took a deep breath, tossed the knife into the sink, and walked over with his phone.

The video call was already connected. Curtis stared out from the screen, brow furrowed.

"Ainsley, Pierce told me everything.

"What's wrong with you? They're spending their time and money trying to help you, and you pull out a knife? Do you have any idea how that makes Pierce feel?"

"Curtis, the doctor said—"

"Stop hiding behind the doctor!" His voice cut through like a slap.

"You've been like this your whole life. Afraid of everything, running from everything. Pierce being willing to put up with you is a blessing. Name one friend of yours who hasn't gotten sick of dealing with you."

He paused for a second.

"Nessa and Pierce are the only ones still helping you, and this is how you repay them?"

I stared at his flushed, furious face on the screen. I thought of the year he graduated college, when he took me to an amusement park.

I froze in front of the haunted house, crouching down with my arms wrapped around my head, refusing to move.

He did not say a word. He bent down, pulled me onto his back, and ran. He ran over a hundred yards before he set me down, out of breath.

I was clinging to his back, sobbing.

Hehad patted me gently and said, "We won't do stuff like that anymore."

The video call ended.

Pierce came over and sat beside me, his voice heavy. "Ainsley, Nessa genuinely wants to help you. Think about it. Besides me and her, who else would put this much effort into dealing with your condition?"

He squeezed my hand.

"Even your brother says you should cooperate."

I did not speak. It felt like something inside my chest had caved in.

I was already in bed by 11:00 PM that night.

Pierce's phone rang in the living room. Vanessa's voice drifted in on speakerphone, thick with tears and hurt.

"Pierce, am I just sticking my nose where it doesn't belong? Does she think I'm trying to hurt her?"

Pierce's voice was low and gentle. "It's not your fault, Nessa. I'll talk to her."

I lay in the dark with my eyes closed. It was not her fault. Was it mine, then?

Five minutes later, he came back.

"Ainsley, send Nessa a text to apologize. She's genuinely trying to help you. Can you please stop fighting her on everything?"

He looked at me.

"Think about it. Besides me and her, who else would put this much effort into dealing with your condition?"

I opened my eyes and looked at the man in front of me. I could not find a single trace of who he used to be.

"Okay." My voice was barely there.

"I'll apologize."

I picked up my phone.

Ainsley: [Nessa, I'm sorry.]

I put the phone down and closed my eyes.

The last light beside me finally went out.