The next morning, I catch Muriel Two staring vacantly at the wall and reluctantly swim toward her, determined to make more of an effort to bond with her before she's moved into my enclosure.

"Hey M–" I stop mid-sentence, surprised to find a sadness currently lacing her expression. "Muriel, are you okay?"

She half turns to face me before flashing a brilliant smile. "I'm fine."

I search her face, wondering if I'd only imagined the pain. "If something is wrong you can tell me, you know. You don't have to pretend with us."

Her smile twitches again. I think I see something flicker behind her eyes, a slither of hesitation, of needing to trust but being too afraid to. The training from the facility will still be fresh in her mind, no doubt, and she'll be remembering how dangerous the outside world is, how her safety depends on the happiness of the guests.

It seems odd to me now that I'd never questioned these things. Why is the outside world so dangerous? Why must we make the guests happy at the expense of our own? My fear of the outside world is what always kept me quiet, kept me wanting to stay, and I can't quite pinpoint the exact moment my desire for freedom was able to triumph my fear, but I know I need to help Muriel's do the same.

"I don't know what you mean," she says, turning away, but I grab her arm to keep her in position.

"The only way we survive this place is by being honest with each other," I say. Then I remember my plan to escape without the others and realize I am the least of honest of all.

Muriel's blank expression shifts to something terrifying. "You want honesty?" she asks. "Here it is. If you and your little friends don't act smarter, you're all going to wind up dead." Then she yanks her arm from my grasp, gives me one last glare and continues her laps as if nothing had happened.

By the time I retire to the night enclosure, my cheeks are aching from holding up a smile. I crawl into bed and pull the covers to my chin, too tired to even use the treadmill. Later on, Reece comes in to check on me as always, but his face is lacking its usual hardness. He crosses the room, his strides long and heavy, his eyes somehow darker.

I tense immediately. "What is it?" I ask, pulling back my duvet before getting to my feet. I stand before him, already bracing myself for bad news. "If you're backing out now–" but I don't get a chance to tell him all of the awful things I'm going to do to him, because his next words keep mine frozen on the tip of my tongue.

"It's Crystal," he says, his voice shaking slightly. "She committed suicide."

It feels like a punch to the gut, one that sucks every ounce of my breath from my lungs. I claw at his words, trying to piece them together in a way that makes sense, but nothing about this does.

I shake my head, unable to form a coherent thought as I pace back and forth, acutely aware of Reece watching me. "No," I say finally, turning to face him. "No." My palm goes up to my mouth as I focus on the far wall, trying to understand what Reece is telling me and still not being able to. There is just no way what Reece is saying can be true. Crystal can't be gone; she can't be dead.

"Aura."

His voice is enough to force me to look at him, my eyes wide and childlike as they study his face. If I let my tears fall then what Reece is telling me is true, and it's not. It can't be.

Every memory of Crystal begins to race through my mind. Us cradling each other during the times the darkness had gotten too much, us reading to one another at night before bed. The stories we'd tell each other, the dreams we'd share, the way we'd wonder what the real world was like. All of that can't just be gone.

Reece closes the distance between us, his hand outstretched as though he wants to make some kind of gesture but is too afraid to touch me.

Marine World has struck me down once again. They have given me something, someone to cherish, and now they have taken her away, the same way they took Teresa and the same way they took Muriel.

"If something's happened to her, it's because they've done something," I growl. "They've gotten rid of her, just like they got rid of Muriel. Just like they're planning to get rid of the rest of us."

"Keep your voice down," Reece says.

Anger rages inside of my chest, desperate for a release."Keep my voice down?" I repeat, the words like a slap to the face. "Keep my voice down?"

I see red. Scorching, blinding red. I step forward, shoving him so hard he stumbles backward a step. I want to hurt him as much as Marine World keeps hurting me, because maybe if I can, he'd understand why I can't just keep my voice down.

"Calm down," Reece says, grabbing my arms before yanking me toward him. "Somebody is going to hear you."

"I don't care!" I say, still struggling against his grip. "You did this to her! You all did this to her!" I must have been hanging on by a thread, because news of Crystal's death unleashes something within me, a tidal wave of fury and exhaustion–one I can't seem to rein in.

"Aura," Reece whispers. "Please." His voice is pleading against my ear, his tone deep and soothing. It is enough to break through my rage, to get me to freeze in his embrace.

I fall quiet, able to feel the tears staining my face. I don't know when they decided to fall. I remember trying so hard to keep them in, to keep them safely stored away, but now they travel down the curves of my cheeks as if they've been there all along.

I don't know what makes me do it. Maybe it is the feeling of his warm body against mine, or the familiarity of having somebody close to me. Maybe because in this moment I don't care who it is, I just need someone, something, to help with the pain, and so I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my cheek on his chest. I close my eyes, allowing my tears to seep into the cotton of his uniform.

To my surprise, his arms pull me in, keeping me bundled to his chest. It makes no difference to the ache in my chest. All I can think of is Crystal is gone.

Crystal is gone and she's never coming back.