Ace wakes to voices she doesn't want to hear.
Not loud. Worse. Careful.
The hospital room smells like antiseptic and regret. Her arm is bandaged. An IV tugs at her skin every time she shifts. The ceiling tiles blur as her eyes struggle to focus.
Then she hears it.
"…she's stable now."
Mika's voice. Tight. Controlled. Terrified underneath.
Ace closes her eyes again. Maybe if she doesn't open them, none of this is real.
"She did this to herself?" Jayson snaps, disbelief cracking his usual bravado. "Jesus, Ace—"
"She didn't do this," Max says sharply, cutting him off. She's sitting beside the bed. Ace can feel her there even without looking. "She was drowning. There's a difference."
Silence follows that. Heavy. Guilty.
Leon clears his throat. "She didn't tell any of us."
Ace hates that part the most.
She finally opens her eyes.
Every head snaps toward her like she pulled a trigger.
Mika is the first to move, crossing the room in three steps and gripping Ace's hand, gentle but unyielding. Her eyes are red. Not crying anymore. That's worse.
"You scared the hell out of us," Mika says softly.
Ace swallows. Her throat feels like sandpaper. "I didn't mean to."
Jayson lets out a broken laugh. "Yeah? Well, congrats. You succeeded anyway."
"Jayson," Leon warns.
"No," Jayson says, voice shaking now. "No, she needs to hear this. We were right there. All of us. And she still thought she had to do that."
Ace turns her face away, shame burning hotter than any wound. "I didn't think," she whispers. "I just… couldn't breathe anymore."
Max's hand tightens around hers. "Next time," she says quietly, dangerously calm, "you let someone help you breathe."
There's a knock at the door.
A cop.
The air changes instantly.
The officer introduces himself, voice neutral, professional, like this is just another Tuesday. Ace feels Max stiffen beside her.
"There's also an incident report from last night," he continues. "The individual involved has decided to press charges."
Ace's heart drops straight through the bed.
"What?" Leon snaps. "Are you kidding me? He was running his mouth—"
"It doesn't matter," the cop says evenly. "There are witnesses. Video. Assault charges are being filed."
Ace laughs weakly. It sounds wrong in her own ears. "Of course he is."
Max turns on the officer, fury barely contained. "She's in a hospital bed."
"I understand," he replies. "But the law doesn't pause for context."
Mika squeezes Ace's hand harder. "What does this mean?"
The cop exhales. "It means once she's discharged, she'll be contacted. Possibly arrested. Court dates. Statements."
The word arrestedechoes too loud.
Ace feels the beast stir again, curling tight around her ribs like it's bracing for impact.
After the officer leaves, no one speaks for a long moment.
Kyle finally mutters, "This is bullshit."
Ace stares at the blanket. "It's my fault."
"No," Max says immediately.
"Yes," Ace insists, tears burning her eyes. "I swung, I lost control, I always do."
Leon steps forward, hands in his pockets, jaw tight. "We're not letting you face this alone."
Ace looks up at him, disbelief cracking through the numbness. "You shouldn't have to deal with my mess."
Leon's voice is steady. "You're not a mess. You're hurt."
Jayson scrubs a hand over his face, anger gone, replaced by fear. "You ever pull something like this again," he says roughly, "I swear I'll drag you back myself. Kicking and screaming if I have to."
A weak smile tugs at Ace's mouth despite everything.
Max leans closer, forehead resting gently against Ace's. Her voice drops to a whisper meant only for her. "You don't get to disappear," she repeats. "Not now. Not after this."
Ace finally breaks.
Tears slide silently down her temples into the pillow. Not dramatic. Not loud.
Just real.
The truth is out now. With stitches and paperwork and consequences attached. Her crew knows. The law knows. Max knows.
There's no hiding left.
And for the first time, Ace realizes something terrifying and fragile and strange.
She might actually have to live through what she's done.
And see who's still standing beside her when the smoke clears