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"Maybe she's alive. Maybe she's safe somewhere unknown." Ariel's voice trembled like a candle in wind, but she forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Maybe she's out there, in another place… alive and healthy. It— it's fine. I promise, you'll find her someday. Don't cry, okay?" She brushed the corner of a sleeve across her face and tried to tuck the ache away with a coaxing softness.
They stayed a moment longer in the quiet room, the light filtering thin and tired through heavy curtains. After Ariel straightened the blankets and gathered the small things she owned into an already overcrowded trunk, the two women rose and returned to their separate wings.
Ariel's hand froze on the knob of her door. It wouldn't turn. Panic spiked—sharp and sudden—as if the world had just slammed a gate between her and any normal life she'd thought possible.
She pushed. Nothing. She shoved. The wood gave no complaint, no surrender.
