Page 121 of Hard Knot

The word repeats in my mind like a prayer as I fight to steady my breathing. I'm safe here. Not trapped in that half-finished room at Harvard, not alone with those men and their hungry eyes.

Safe.

But the memory lingers like smoke, bitter and choking, reminding me that some scars never truly heal. They just wait beneath the surface, ready to resurface in fever dreams and quiet moments when we least expect them.

Ready to remind us that safety is always temporary.

And some nightmares never really end.

The tears come without warning, hot and heavy against my fevered skin. My body trembles as panic claws its way up my throat, threatening to choke me with memories I've spent years trying to forget.

But I can't forget.

Never could.

Never will.

The sheets tangle around my legs as I scramble out of bed, my feet hitting the floor with enough force to send jolts of pain up my calves. I stumble, catching myself against the wall as the room spins and tilts around me.

Have to get clean.

Must cool down.

Nothing will happen.

You can’t have a Heat.

You’re NOT ALLOWED to have one.

Nope. Nope. NOPE.

Never again.

The thought pounds through my head with each racing heartbeat.

Have to wash it away.

My legs carry me to the bathroom on autopilot, muscle memory taking over where conscious thought fails. The marble floor is cool against my bare feet, but it's not enough to ground me.

Nothing is ever enough.

I don't remember turning on the shower, but suddenly water is cascading over me, frigid as ice, soaking through my clothes and plastering them to my skin.

The spray is almost painful against my burning flesh, and I’m sure I’m so red, but it doesn't matter.

Can't feel it.

Can't feel anything except their hands.

The pain.

The agony.

My screams echo like a choir desperately trying to be heard from the man above.

No one is coming.

Stay silent for no one will save you, Omega…

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