Aris barely slept. Riot's confession kept running through her head—black ops interpreter turned memory ghost, locked up to keep Greyvale's secrets quiet. His thumb on her cheek. Their almost-kiss. Dawn hit, and she still hadn't figured out what to do.
Merrin knocked early. Three hard raps. She sat up fast, still in yesterday's wrinkled coat. "Come in."
He stood there with his clipboard, looking her over like she was one of his charts. "You missed rounds. Wilder's file has gaps. What's going on?"
"Just doing my job." Her left hand twitched—Riot's tell she couldn't shake.
He stepped inside and shut the door. "You ordered restraints. Went in alone. That's not how we do things."
"It's working." Her pulse jumped, and she knew he could see it.
He put the clipboard down, real slow. "Mnemosyne was a problem. Phase II got shut down. You were the resident. Wilder watched it happen. You're both flagged as unstable."
"It's old news," she said, keeping her voice flat.
"Not when he gets obsessed." Merrin leaned in a little. "He's obsessed with you. And now I'm watching your sessions."
It felt like a warning. She sat up straighter. "These are my cases. My call."
"Your job." He tapped the file. "Westhaven almost ended you once. Don't let Greyvale finish it."
He left. The door clicked shut. Aris gripped her desk. Watched. Noticed. Trapped.
Lunch in the cafeteria was loud—trays banging, people talking. She grabbed soup and sat in the corner. Nurse Lila sat down across from her. "Wilder's asking for you. Says it's important."
"Patients don't get to request."
"He's acting normal. Clear-headed." Lila glanced around. "Merrin's been hanging around your sessions."
Aris pushed her tray away. "Tell him I'll come by tonight."
The walk to Ward Six felt longer than usual. Lights flickered. Guard at Door Twelve gave her a weird look—no paperwork. "Ma'am?"
"Quick check-in." She swiped her keycard. Door opened.
Riot was pacing his little space—three steps one way, chain rattling, three back. He stopped when he saw her. "They know something's up."
"Merrin got in my face this morning." She locked the door and stepped closer. No chair. Just them, standing a few feet apart. "Said you're the observer. Patient Zero from Mnemosyne. Black ops fallout."
He nodded. "He'll bury us both to keep it quiet."
She took another step. Close enough to feel his body heat. "What do we do?"
"Get out." His hand came up, stopped near her arm. "With me."
"You're crazy." The words tumbled out, but her mind raced through it all. "Armed guards at every exit—rotating patrols, tasers, keys on chains. The only way off this rock is those sheer cliffs on the north side, hundred-foot drops into churning black water. No boat, no ladder, just waves smashing rocks. We'd never make it."
"Would if you time it right." He stepped closer. Their chests almost touched. "Service tunnels under the east wing—old laundry runs to the beach. Guards slack at 2 a.m. Current pulls west. I swam worse in Kandahar."
She could feel her breath getting short. His fingers brushed her wrist, right where the marks from yesterday still showed. "You feel that? It's the Mnemosyne bleed. They'll test it. Weaponize it."
Her hand went to his jaw without thinking. Rough stubble. She traced the scar. "I can't just ditch my other patients."
"You can't help them." His voice got lower. "Not in this place."
They were right up against each other now. Breaths mixing. Her nails scraped his neck a little. His hand tightened on her wrist—not hard, just enough. His eyes dropped to her mouth.
"Merrin's watching us," she said, quiet.
"Let him." He leaned in. Noses touched. Lips so close.
Footsteps outside. Buzzer went off.
They jumped back. She unlocked the door right as the guard started banging. "Doctor! No schedule!"
"Emergency check." She kept her voice even.
Riot stared at her as she left, eyes saying he'd wait.
Hallway spun a little. Guard looked suspicious. Merrin was sniffing around. Escape sounded nuts—but now she could picture it. Tunnels. Cliffs. Water.
That night, staring at her ceiling, she could hear the waves hitting the rocks below. Greyvale was closing in. But Riot saw her—really saw her.
Tomorrow she'd have to choose. Job. Truth. Him.
Or watch it all fall apart.
***
**Author's Note**
Thanks for reading the revised Chapter 7 of When the Quiet Breaks. Escape plan's real now—guards, cliffs, waves. Pressure's mounting. Subscribe for Chapter 8: Aris picks a side, and Greyvale fights back. What's her move?