Effy~3

Tess sat on the floor beside Cook, both of them leaning against the couch. The quiet weight of everything pressed in. His fingers found hers under the coffee table, linking tight and wordless.

Cook took a slow drag from his joint, exhaling smoke that hung low in the air.

Across the room, Freddie fumbled with his phone.

"Uh—an ambulance, please," he said, voice shaking. "My girl—my friend... well, no, she's not right, I don't—look, she's been sectioned before..."

A pause."Yeah, um. It's 82 Peverell Road... yeah, that's the one. Okay. Thanks."

He hung up, rubbing a hand over his face.

Cook turned, squinting through the smoke. His eyes landed on the bag near the door."The fuck's that?"Freddie followed his gaze."You fuckin' skipping out on me, man?"

Freddie didn't answer right away.

"...Yeah," he said finally. "I'm leaving. I was gonna go tonight."

Cook stood up, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You were gonna fuck off? Leave her?"

On the couch, Effy stirred slightly, a soft twitch of her hand. Tess gently climbed up and sat beside her, brushing Effy's hair from her face, staying close.

Freddie stood, voice cracking. "Cook, she broke my heart, man!"

Cook's voice was low, bitter. "And I bet you've broken hers somewhere along the way."

Freddie's expression tightened. "You don't know what it's been like."

"I know enough."

"No, you don't."

Cook stepped closer. "I'm the one who had to find her tonight. You were here packing a fuckin' bag."

Effy moved again—more restless now. Her breath caught. She whispered something incoherent.

Tess laid a calming hand on her arm. "Hey, you're alright. You're safe."

Effy's eyes fluttered open, unfocused, then wide.

"...Chelle?"

"Effy-."

Effy sat up slightly, disoriented. Her gaze darted around the room. "Michelle—where's Michelle? Where's Tony? Tony!? The bus—he got hit—He's-He's"

Her fingers curled into Tess's sleeve like she was bracing for the crash again.

"It's okay." Tess's voice was soft but steady. She touched Effy's hand. "That happened a long time ago. You remember that, don't you?"

Effy blinked, breathing uneven.

"And you know what?" Tess went on gently. "You were strong. You got through it. You remembered it. That makes you real. You're not lost, Eff.  Not anymore, And Tony's alright. Tony's great. He's safe and so are you."

Effy's face crumpled for a second, but then she nodded—just slightly. Her body relaxed, and her eyes slid shut again.

Behind them, Cook and Freddie were still facing off.

"Fuck me, grow up," Cook muttered, shaking his head. "'Cause I'm done here."

He looked over at Tess. She met his gaze, then turned back to Effy. Carefully, she eased Effy's head back onto the pillow.

She stood and crossed the room.

"You gonna be alright now?" she asked Freddie.

Freddie didn't speak. Just gave a tired, silent nod.

As Tess stepped toward the door with Cook, Freddie said quietly, "Thanks for bringing her to me."

Cook paused, hand on the doorknob. He looked back, eyes hard."Where the fuck else would I bring her?" A beat."Don't screw it up."

----

It was quieter now. The streets emptied out, the buzz of the night faded into the cool stillness that only crept in when it got too late to pretend anything was fine.

Cook walked beside her, hands in his pockets, jaw tense.

Tess walked a little slower than usual, like she didn't want to get to her door too fast.

"I was gonna talk to you about something," she said, voice light but careful. Testing the waters.

Cook didn't look at her. Just kept walking, eyes fixed on the pavement. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She paused. "Just... earlier. Before everything. With Effy."

He flinched slightly at the name. His jaw tightened.

Tess clocked it. "Look, I know that was intense—"

"Yeah it was." he cut in. Not harsh, but tired. Hollow.

Tess sighed "Fine, we'll talk tomorrow."

He gave her the faintest nod, like he was already miles away from the conversation.

When they arrived outside her house, he hovered. Neither of them made a move to go inside.

He leaned in and kissed her — soft, not rushed, not desperate. Like he was saying sorry without saying anything at all.

But just as they pulled apart, a man shoved past them, brisk, muttering something under his breath. Cook turned automatically, eyes narrowed.

"Oi! Watch it—"

But before he could finish, Tess slapped a hand over his mouth.

He looked at her, startled.

Her eyes were wide. She was staring at the man's back as he stormed up the path.

Cook mumbled under her hand, "The fuck's he doin' goin' in your yard?"

"That's my dad," Tess whispered.

Cook's expression shifted.

Nathan didn't turn. Didn't look back. Didn't see her. Just pushed through the gate like he belonged there.

Tess stood frozen for a second, hand slowly leaving Cook's mouth.

"What's he doing here?" she muttered. "I haven't seen him in what...4 months."

Cook stayed quiet beside her.

Neither of them moved.

Tess looked at the front door, then back at Cook. Her stomach twisted.

Cook rubbed the back of his neck. "You want me to go in with you?"

Tess shook her head slowly, gaze still locked on the door.

"Nah...can we just stay here for a bit though? I'm not ready to go in."

"Course love," 

---

Tess stood just out of sight, arms folded, the kitchen light spilling down the hallway. When she saw her dad go in 5 minutes ago she expected nothing less than a full on screaming match. Her mum's voice cut through — tight, controlled, the way it got when she was furious but trying not to be.

"I told you," Anna said. "I'm letting her decide. It's her body. Her life. Not my decision whether I like it or not."

Nathan's voice was sharper, louder. "You let her? She's eighteen, Anna. And she's having a baby with that lunatic?" Tess clenched her jaw.

"Don't talk about her like she's stupid. She's not." her mum snapped.

"She's impulsive. Self-destructive. Just like you were Just like you made her."

There was a sharp pause — heavy and dangerous.

"You don't know anything about me Nathan. Not anymore." her mum said bitterly

Her dad let out a loud knowing scoff, "Well I know enough to gather that you screwed her up even more than she already was,"

She could practically picture her mothers expression right at this moment.

"Me? Screw her up?!" She said, clearly outraged, "I haven't done half the shitty things you have to our daughters! You disappeared. Then came back. Then left again, and again. You drank yourself to death most nights. You never even saw them!"

Nathan's voice dropped to something nastier. "You pushed me out. Don't pretend it was all me."

"Of course I pushed you out! You think I wanted a drunk fucking tosser hanging around my house, my clients and my kids every single day. Don't rewrite it now just because you've got a guilty conscience and a new bloody family."

Tess stepped into the doorway.

Anna's arms were crossed now, face flushed. Nathan stood stiff, shoulders square like he thought he had authority in a place he'd barely been invited into.

"Can you stop yelling for five seconds?" she said flatly, her eyes dragging between the two of them.

Both turned to face her. Anna looked flushed and wild-eyed; Nathan's expression shifted instantly into some tight, bitter mix of anger and condescension.

"You're listening in now, are you?"

"Hard not to," Tess muttered. "You're practically screaming the house down."

"This isn't a joke, Tess."

"No," she agreed. "But you showing up and acting like you get a say in any of this is."

"Tess," Anna said carefully, like a warning — like she already felt the tension snapping at the seams.

"What's he even doing here mum?"

But before Anna could respond Nathan jumped in, "I came to talk to your mum about how ridiculous you're being!"

"Me?" Tess scoffed

Nathan looked her over like she was something he didn't recognise anymore. "Do you even understand what you're doing?"

Tess crossed her arms. "Better than you did when you left."

His jaw tightened. "You think throwing that in my face helps?"

"You think showing up now helps?" she snapped. "After everything?"

She shook her head. "You're a fucking joke, Dad. If I can even call you that."

Anna stepped between them slightly. "Tess, love—"

"No," Nathan barked. "Let her speak. Clearly she's got a lot of opinions."

"I do," Tess said. Her eyes burned suddenly. She blinked hard.

"You're emotional," he said with a sneer. "Which is exactly why you shouldn't be making life-altering decisions."

"I haven't decided anything! Maybe if you actually wanted to listen to me. Hear me out, you'd know!"

He let out a loud, unapproving scoff, "Well your mums heard you loud and fucking clear sweetheart, you're getting what you want aren't you? Looks just about too late for you to make a choice," He nodded towards her bump.

"You have no right Nathan," Anna snapped. "So don't you dare come into my house and tell me what to do-"

"Are you proud of this?" he demanded, eyes darting between them. "Both your daughters spinning out? One knocked up by a criminal and the other—well, whatever the hell Michelle is these days."

The front door swung open with a bang.

"Speak of the devil!" Michelle called out as she stumbled inside, makeup smudged, top half falling off her shoulder. Clearly she'd just gotten back from Maxxies afterparty.

She dropped her bag onto the floor, blinked at the tension in the room, and grinned like none of it mattered.

"Oh, Dad's here," she slurred. "Brilliant. Full reunion."

"Michelle," Anna said with a groan.

Her mum looked like she might cry or throw something — Tess couldn't tell which.

Michelle ignored her, slumping into a chair and pouring herself the end of the wine straight into a glass someone had left behind. "What'd I miss?"

Nathan glared at her. "You're drunk."

She squinted at him. "Wow, observant. That your new wife's influence or do you just get high off being an arse?"

"Jesus Christ," Nathan muttered. "You're all insane."

"We're insane?" Tess stepped forward now, voice raised. "Who's fucking fault is that?"

"You think you can walk into our lives again and fix what you broke?"

"I didn't come here to fix you," Nathan said coldly. "I came here to stop you from making a mistake."

"Bit late for that," Tess said.

Michelle laughed — short and breathy. "He's not wrong, to be fair," she murmured to Tess. "But still. Fuck him."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "This is what I was afraid of."

"You don't get to act afraid now," Anna snapped. "You didn't get to act afraid when that's all you made us for five years! So don't come back and judge how we managed without you."

Nathan shook his head, incredulous. "You think this is managing?"

Michelle's smile was fading. "I had to be normal," she said quietly, almost to herself. "Because you were gone, and Mum was losing it, and Tess was—"

"Don't." Tess said, her voice suddenly tight.

"Don't what!" He spat, unaware of either of his daughters past struggles.

Tess stared him down. Her voice cracked as she said it:

"Does Louise know you're here?"

A silence dropped like a bomb.

Nathan's face darkened, veins tightening at his temples.

"Don't you fucking bring her into this."

Tess held her ground, even as tears threatened. "Why not? She's your wife isn't she? Bet she wouldn't be too happy knowing you came here to scream at your real kids."

He stepped toward her, right in her face. "I said, don't."

Anna took a cautious step towards Nathan, palms up. "Back off."

Nathan's voice rose again, booming through the walls, completely ignoring Anna. "You think this is some sick joke?! You think dragging Louise into your tantrum makes you clever?!"

"I think it makes you scared," Tess snapped. Her voice shook. "You're scared she'll see you for what you really are. You know, I feel sorry for her. She doesn't know the real man she married. Does she?"

Nathan didn't speak at first.

Just stared at Tess like she'd cracked something inside him wide open. His jaw clenched, working furiously, like he was biting down on words too sharp to say.

"You know nothing," he said, voice low and seething. "You don't know what I've had to carry. The choices I've made—"

"You chose to leave!" she yelled. "You chose them. You chose the door. And now you're back here, what—trying to fix your conscience by yelling at us?"

"I didn't choose to be shut out!"

"You chose not to fight for us!" Her voice cracked. "You chose not to stay."

"I was drowning, Tess," he shot back. "I couldn't handle it all anymore"

"I was a kid." She blinked, stunned. "I couldn't understand that then- Fuck I can't even understand that now!"

Nathan let out a harsh laugh. "So what do you want from me then? Huh? Want me to fuck off again? Never talk to you? Just erase myself so you can keep painting me as the villain in every version of your life?"

She stared at him. "I don't need to paint anything. You already did that yourself."

His face twisted. "You're not the only one who's hurting."

"But I'm the one still living in the wreckage you left," she choked, the first tear slipping down her cheek. "I'm the one who had to learn how to survive without you."

"I'm right here Tess!"

"Yeah," she said bitterly, voice barely holding together. "Just in time to tell me I've ruined my life."

"You fucking have! And I'm the only sane one trying to fix it! Trying to save you from that boy!" He screamed.

Tess looked up at him, her eyes rimmed with angry tears. Anna had her hands firmly on Michelles shoulders, trying to calm her distraught daughter down.

Nathan's fists clenched at his sides. "If you walk out now—if you keep going down this path—don't expect me to catch you when it all falls apart."

"You never did."

He flinched like she'd struck him.

The air between them snapped taut, full of all the things they'd never said and never would.

She turned, jaw trembling, and walked toward the door.

Nathan's voice chased her, sharp and raw: "Don't you fucking dare run to him now, Tess!"

She paused for half a breath.

"Your mum couldn't handle you. I couldn't. You think he will?" His voice broke — not with pain, but fury. "Watch how it ends. You'll hate yourself soon enough."

Tess was frozen in shock.

"You always needed someone to fuck you up. Guess you finally found one who'll do the job properly."

Tess stared at him like she didn't recognise him.This wasn't the dad she'd begged to come back when she was 10. Wasn't the man who used to take her to the park or the pool and carry her on his shoulders.

It was a stranger in his skin.Some patched-up version of him, held together with forced apologies and a clean shave and a new family he played pretend with.A man trying to rebuild something he'd burned down himself.

And all she could feel was this cold, collapsing horror.

Like mourning someone who was still alive.

Her face twisted — not just with anger, but with grief.Because whatever part of him she'd clung to for years — whatever hope she'd secretly kept alive —It wasn't real.

Maybe it had never had been.

She looked at him, eyes wide and wounded, and saw nothing left to save.

Only a stranger with her father's voice.

-----

She didn't even realise how fast she was walking until her legs started to burn.

Stupid shoes. Should've changed. Should've said less. Should've left sooner. Shouldn't have gone at all.

She sniffed, wiped at her face. It didn't help — tears just kept coming like her body hadn't caught up to the part where she was supposed to hold it together. And she was trying. Shoulders straight, arms crossed tight, face set like stone.

But the second she turned onto Naomi's road, it crumbled again.

Because there he was.

Cook. Just ahead, walking slow like he had all the time in the world. Hood up. Shoulders hunched forward, hands stuffed in his pockets.

She had to get right behind him before he turned.

He blinked when he saw her. No words, no smirk, none of the usual Cook-like lines. Just — blinked.

And then he hugged her.

No asking. No checking. No dramatic gesture. Just opened his arms and let her fold into him.

Tess didn't say anything either. Couldn't. She just stood there in the middle of the pavement, crying into his jacket.

Eventually, he moved, gently steering her toward Naomi's place. She followed, numb, clinging to the fabric of his sleeve.

They didn't speak until they were in the room he was staying in.

Tess sat down like her legs stopped working.

Cook crouched in front of her, uncertain. Still quiet.

Her throat burned, hands trembling in her lap, face blotchy and swollen.

His face tightened. "What happened?"

She didn't answer. Just shook her head. Her mouth opened like she might say something — but nothing came out.

"Tess," he tried again. "What the fuck did he say to you?"

Her breath hitched, it felt like she was trying to keep her ribcage from collapsing in.

Cook reached out but didn't touch her. She looked feral, shaking, like if he laid a hand on her she might shatter.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she gasped out, voice splintering. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't—"

"Tess," he said, firmer now. "Hey. Look at me."

Her eyes snapped to his — wide, bloodshot, furious and broken all at once.

"I shouldn't've started anything," she said. "I knew it. I knew he'd— I fucking knew."

"What did he say?" Cook asked, teeth clenched. "What the fuck did that prick do?"

She laughed, one of those mad, breathless ones — like something was breaking loose inside her. "It was a proper fuckin' show, yeah? Everyone screaming, Michelle off her tits, Mum losing it. I'm losing it-"

"Tess," he said again, but she was spiralling now, words coming faster, harsher.

"He said I ruined my life," she choked. "Said I was— emotional. That I hate myself. Like I wasn't even— like I'm just this fuck-up. This— mistake. And he just kept going, like he's got the right to— like he was ever—"

Cook's fists clenched. His voice dropped. "I should've fucking stayed."

Tess turned away, dragging her hands through her hair like she wanted to tear it out. "No, no. He would've- Could've done something. He said he's trying to- to save me from you!"

"I fuckin' knew," he snapped, more to himself. "I saw his face, Tess. I saw him going in. I knew— I asked if you wanted me to stay, I should—"

"I thought I could handle it," she cried, twisting back to face him. "I thought maybe— I don't know what I thought! That he'd listen? That he'd fucking care for once?"

He looked at her like she was breaking his heart.

"He doesn't get to say shit," Cook growled. "He doesn't know you. He doesn't get to tell you who you are."

Her voice rose again, jagged and shrill. "I don't even know who I am! I don't know what the fuck I'm doing! I can't— I'm not—" She stopped, the words tangling in her throat.

And then: "I can't do this."

Cook stiffened. His jaw locked. "What, the baby?"

Silence.

She looked at him, eyes wild with panic, then away. "No. Yes. I don't— I don't know. I don't want to not want it, but I don't want to fuck it up either, and I will, I will— I'm already—"

"Hey," he said, voice tight. "Stop. Just— stop."

"We don't have to." he said softly. There's places... I mean, there's ways to not—"

"I know," Tess cut in. "But it's not that simple, is it? I keep thinking about it. Like it's already... I don't know. Real."

"Maybe it is," he said. "But maybe it's not right. Maybe it's not supposed to happen like this."

"With you a literal fugitive and me falling apart?" She laughed, dryly.

"Exactly."

Tess stared at the wall. "So what — we just don't do it?"

Cook hesitated. "I dunno. You tell me."

"I don't even know if I'm gonna be me anymore," she said, chest heaving. "What if I end up like him? My dad. Or what if you do? What if we turn into people we hate?"

Cook's voice cracked. "You think I'm not scared too?"

She looked at him, eyes glistening.

"I don't even know how to be a person," he said. "Let alone someone's fucking dad. I'm not—" he laughed bitterly. "I'm not built for this, Tess."

That stung. She looked away, swallowed hard.

"But I'm trying," he said. "I'm trying for you. For that little thing. Because it's ours. Yours and mine. It's us, Tess. We'll get through it no matter what..."

"....We can't bring someone into this. Can we?"

Cook shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Not like this."

Tess nodded. Her eyes were still wet, but there was no sobbing now. No shaking.

"And I swear, if I see your dad again—"

"Don't," she whispered, panic spiking. "Don't go near him."

His eyes flashed. "He doesn't get to speak to you like that. Doesn't get to touch your life like that after fucking off for years."

"He just wants to feel important. Wants to win something. Like I'm a fucking trophy he forgot about."

Cook moved toward her slowly this time, eyes softening. "You didn't ruin anything, yeah? You're scared, so am I. But you're not him. And you're not your mum. You're you."

"I don't know who that is anymore."

He touched her face, carefully, like she might bolt. "I do."

-----

The smell hit her before anything else. Burnt, slightly rubbery. Eggs. Definitely eggs.

Tess rubbed her eyes and shuffled down the hallway, socks slipping down her heels. Her limbs felt sore like she'd run a marathon in her sleep. Or cried through one.

She stepped into the kitchen to find Cook hunched over the stove, shirt wrinkled, hair a wreck, spoon in hand.

"What... are you doing?" she asked, voice still scratchy from crying and sleep.

He jumped a little, turned. His hair was a mess, shirt half-tucked, like he hadn't slept much either. "Breakfast. Obviously."

Tess blinked at the blackening mess in the pan. "Is it?"

"Yeah. Or dinner. Depends how bad this goes," he muttered, poking at it with a wooden spoon.

She stepped further in, arms wrapped across her middle. "Do you even know what my favourite is?"

He didn't even pause. "Scrambled."

Her eyes narrowed. "Lucky guess."

He smirked without turning. "Told you. I listen."

She dropped into a chair at the table, slowly, like sitting down might break something loose inside her again.

He didn't say anything right away. Just hovered awkwardly, glancing back once. "About last night—"

"Later?" she said, cutting him off quickly. Too quickly. She couldn't do the heavy part again yet. Not before breakfast.

He nodded once, like he was relieved she wasn't gonna make him unpack it yet.

From down the hall, Naomi's voice rang out, muffled but clear: "Cook, can you get your girlfriend to text me back? She's ignoring all my—"

She walked in mid-sentence and froze.

Tess raised her brows from the table, hoodie half-zipped, eyes tired.

Naomi blinked. "Right. Morning."

"Morning," Tess said dryly.

Naomi recovered quickly, grabbing the kettle. "Pandora called. Said something about last night. Effy?"

Cook didn't look up. "Yeah."

Naomi glanced between them. "What happened?"

Cook finally turned, leaning against the counter. "She's proper fucked up, man." He tapped his head lightly, made a little 'loopy' sound. "Proper."

Tess picked at the skin near her nail. "It was scary she was like— gone. Could barely stand."

"She kept saying weird shit. Then fuckin' ran out into the middle of the road." Cook added. "Didn't know where she was. Didn't know who I was. Who anyone was."

Naomi's face changed. "Fuck. Pandora's explanation was pretty scattered. Didn't think it was that bad again. Thought she was drunk or something."

"She wasn't," Tess said quietly. "Somehow makes it scarier..."

There was a long silence.

Naomi sat down opposite her. "You think she's stable-r now?"

Tess looked away. "Let's hope so."

Naomi's face was tight. "We're going over later. Me and Panda. That's why I called you... but since you're conveniently in my kitchen, Anthea wants her to be surrounded by friends when she wakes up."

Tess hesitated. "Yeah alright."

Cook slid a plate in front of Tess. The eggs were... yellow. Soft, slightly questionable. But warm.

"Scrambled," he said grinning.

She looked up at him — tired, wary, still aching — but nodded. "Thanks."

He didn't sit right away. Just hovered a second, like he wanted to say something else. But then Naomi cleared her throat, loud and pointed, and Cook rolled his eyes and finally dropped into the chair across from her.

The kitchen was quiet for a beat. Warm, if a bit awkward. And the eggs, surprisingly, weren't that bad.

----

The room was dim and quiet, drawn curtains holding the morning at bay. Effy's breathing was slow, steady. She'd been awake earlier — blinked at them, even squeezed Pandora's hand — but had drifted off again. Her face, in sleep, looked younger. More fragile.

Tess sat on the edge of a chair, hands wrapped around her knees. Pandora was cross-legged on the carpet, humming something soft and tuneless. Naomi leaned back against the wardrobe, arms folded, staring out the window even though it was shut.

Freddie looked worse than last night, if that was possible. Shadows deep under his eyes, hair unwashed and curling against his jaw. He hadn't said much since they came in — just nodded when Pandora explained Effy had eaten a little earlier, and stayed in the room like he didn't trust it to stay upright without him.

No one was really speaking. Just existing, in this thick, quiet worry.

"I'm gonna get something hot," Tess muttered, standing up with a wince and pressing her palm briefly to her lower back. "Anyone want?"

Naomi shook her head. Pandora said, "Tea, please."

Freddie didn't answer. Just looked at Effy again like she might disappear if he blinked.

Tess slipped out into the hallway and started toward the kitchen — but halfway there, a voice and a rush of footsteps stopped her.

"Tess."

It was Tony.

For once in his life Tony looked... frazzled. Like he was only running on caffeine and panic.

Tess blinked, surprised. "You're here."

He glanced over his shoulder like he didn't quite believe it either. "Caught the first train down."

She tilted her head. "Michelle?"

"Michelle," he confirmed. "Said I should grow up and come see what was going on, seeing as Mum's been acting like Effy's just had a cold."

Tess let out a breath. "Glad you're here."

That seemed to catch him off guard. They hadn't always liked each other — in fact, they'd mostly not liked each other. But now, the words were real.

"I mean it," she added, quieter. "She's... bad this time, Tone."

His jaw tightened. "Michelle said it was worse. Didn't say how bad."

"She ran into the street last night," Tess said, voice barely above a whisper. "Didn't know who we were. Or who she was, I think. Kept saying, 'It happened, but it never happened... it happened, but it never happened...'"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know." Tess looked down at the floorboards. "It was like she's been brainwashed. She's been saying off shit for months. Triggered by something. I think—" She hesitated, heart thudding a bit faster.

"By what?"

"I think it might've been when she walked past the spot. Where you got... hit. Years ago."

He just looked down. Silent.

The air between them felt heavy, suddenly, like too much had been said.

"Shit."

His eyes caught on something. Her stomach. Barely there, but undeniable now.

He blinked, then met her gaze again. "So it's true?"

She nodded. "What did you think Chelle was lying?"

Tony shook his head slowly, "It's just strange that's all. You're mini Michelle and you're pregnant." He gestured

She'd always hated him saying mini Michelle when he used to tease her when she was younger— but at this moment, she didn't care to correct him.

A long pause.

Tony rubbed his jaw, swallowed. "I should've come sooner."

"Yeah. But... you're here now."

Another beat. A quiet truce.

"I'll make you tea," Tess said.

Tony nodded again. "Thanks."

----

The tea station was busier than she expected — nurses in clusters, tired-looking visitors fumbling for milk sachets — but eventually Tess made it back with a tray.

As she turned the corner toward Effy's room, her steps slowed.

Freddie was further down the hall now — standing with Anthea and Tony, talking quietly to a doctor. Tess couldn't hear anything, but Anthea had her arms crossed, stiff. Freddie's head was bowed like he was listening too hard, and Tony... Tony looked like he might punch the wall.

Tess frowned, adjusting the tray in her hands, and moved to push Effy's door open.

But it opened first — from the inside.

Someone came out.

A man. Late fifties, maybe. There was something unsettling about him. The stillness. The faint smile that didn't move his eyes.

Tess blinked, confused — she must've got the wrong room.

She looked up, quick, at the whiteboard beside the door.

Elizabeth Stonem.

Nope. Right room.

The man caught her staring and said, in a voice that was far too smooth, "You must be one of Effy's friends."

Tess hesitated. Every nerve in her body told her to lie. But her mouth moved before she could stop it.

"...Yeah. I'm Tess."

His smile widened, like he'd just solved a puzzle.

"I remember her mentioning you," he said.

Tess didn't answer. Just blinked.

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. She didn't know what — couldn't name it — but standing this close to him made her skin itch.

"Are you her-"

"Therapist." He finished. "Dr. Foster."

That name Foster...where had she heard it?

Before she could respond, he stepped past her, too close, his cologne sharp and bitter, and walked off down the corridor without another word.

Tess turned and stared at the door.

For a full minute, she didn't move.

Then she reached out, knuckles stiff, and slowly pushed it open again.

Effy was still asleep.

But the air felt colder now.

Like someone had taken something important and walked away with it.