The first snowfall of the season fell quietly above ground, blanketing the forest in a soft hush. But inside the storm shelter beneath the lab's west wing, it was anything but peaceful.
Aria sat by a broken console, knees pulled to her chest, Xander's confession still echoing in her mind.
He'd been one of them.
Tested. Modified.
How much of what he'd said to her was real?
A quiet knock broke her thoughts.
She didn't answer.
Xander came in anyway.
"I shouldn't have kept it from you," he said. "But I never chose this."
She didn't look at him. "They chose for you. Like they chose for me."
"I hated what they did to me."
"So did I," she said. "But I didn't lie to you."
His silence was louder than an apology.
Then he knelt beside her, his voice quieter now. "You're the only person I've ever felt whole with. Even broken. Even bleeding. I need you to believe that."
She finally looked at him.
His eyes—haunted but open—were the same ones that had once belonged to the boy she dared to trust.
And in them, she saw something she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years.
Home.
She didn't speak.
Just reached out, took his hand, and let her fingers rest in his.
For now, it was enough.