After They Gambled With My Life, I Went to the Scottish Highlands

The night before I was supposed to leave for my study trip to Bath, my boyfriend Ethan suddenly tagged me in our three-person group chat. "Nora, check your train ticket. There's a surprise." I opened the railway booking app. The ticket from London to Bath had turned gray. The page read clearly: Trip cancelled. Refund issued to the original payment method. The cancellation had been made yesterday afternoon. Before I could even type a reply, messages started flooding the chat one after another. My best friend Sophie sent a string of laughing emojis first. "Ethan, you lost again. You're covering all the coffee this month! I told you she wouldn't notice even the day before." Ethan replied quickly, "Fine, you win. Nora, you're so oblivious. Hurry up and buy an open ticket without a reserved seat. Sophie and I will take turns giving you ours once we're on the train." They chatted away enthusiastically, the screen filled with emojis celebrating their winning bet. Just like the camping trip, when they'd bet on whether I would cry over beetles and deliberately broke my tent zipper. Or the time before that, when they'd bet on how long it would take me to start wheezing after accidentally eating peanuts, and hid my EpiPen in the highest kitchen cabinet. Every time I told them with red-rimmed eyes that I really did mind, their answer was always the same. "What's the big deal?It was just a joke." I stared at the group chat for a long time. In the end, I said nothing. I left the three-person group and bought a plane ticket to Inverness for the next day. I wanted to see the lakes of the Scottish Highlands in winter, to see just how blue the sky could be when the wind swept across the moors. On my own, done with toxic people for good, the scenery might be just right. Chapter 1 The apartment door swung open just as I was folding my last waterproof jacket and tucking it into my suitcase. "See, I told you, Nora's definitely packing a suitcase full of dramatic stuff to scare us." Sophie's bright voice carried in first. "Ethan, a bet's a bet. Don't forget to send me the coffee money." Ethan followed behind her, carrying a new portable tea set and a map of Bath's old town. He set everything down in the entryway, and his gaze fell on the thick wool socks, hiking boots, and camera rain cover in my suitcase. His brow furrowed slightly. "What are you packing all this for? It's Bath, not the Alps." I didn't answer. Ethan didn't seem to notice my silence. He pulled out his phone and held up a ticket purchase page in front of me. "I got you a replacement open ticket. No guaranteed seat, but Sophie and I will take turns letting you sit once we're on the train. Last night we took things too far. Don't be upset." He sounded gentle, and even reached out like he always did, trying to ruffle my hair. I turned my face away, dodging his hand. "I'm not going. Have a good trip." I shoved my toiletry bag into a gap in the suitcase and zipped up the inner compartment. Sophie immediately leaned in and grabbed the handle of my suitcase. "Come on, what if I switch seats with you? I'll stand, you sit. That's being a good enough friend, isn't it?" She batted her lashes, as if she were making some enormous sacrifice. I held the handle and pried her fingers off one by one. "Don't touch my things." Sophie froze for a second, and her eyes turned red almost instantly. She stepped back half a pace and looked at Ethan with wounded eyes, as if I had bullied her for no reason. Ethan's face darkened. He instinctively pulled her behind him. "Nora, you don't need to be this hurtful. Sophie was just trying to joke around with you. Do you really have to keep giving us the cold shoulder?" He sighed, his tone dripping with condescending patience. "I know you saved up for a long time for this trip. Haven't I already gotten you a replacement ticket? Once we get to Bath, I'll cover all your meals and the difference for accommodation. Isn't that enough?" In his eyes, buying a seatless replacement ticket and tossing some money my way was the perfect compensation. He didn't understand at all. What I cared about was never the difference of a few dozen pounds. What I cared about was that I'd been tossed onto their betting table over and over again, and even the timing of when I would discover I'd been hurt could become a chip in their game. I looked at his self-righteous face and couldn't even muster the energy to argue. Just then, my phone buzzed on the table. It was an email from the review committee of the European Young Documentary Photography Residency Program. This was the only spot the university could nominate this year, and it was directly tied to my first real job after graduation. For my submission, I had spent an entire month living in a mountain village in northern Wales. On the coldest days, I went out at four in the morning, carrying my camera and walking for hours on frost-covered mountain paths, just to capture the light falling on the old men who made their way to the church before dawn. I opened the email. A few cold lines filled the screen. "Dear Ms. Nora Bennett, the submitted work Where the Wind Passes contains numerous unrelated stickers, mocking slogans, and additional graphic layers that severely compromise the authenticity and integrity of documentary photography. After deliberation, the review committee has revoked your eligibility for this year's program." I stared at the screen. Something roared inside my head, and my mind went blank. Attached at the bottom of the email was the final version they had received. I opened the first photo, and my fingers turned ice cold. Every single photograph I had spent a month capturing now had a huge pink cartoon watermark in the bottom right corner. The watermark read: Scaredy-cat Nora Conquers the World. Against the bleak mountain wind, a grinning cartoon pig was pasted next to an old man's wrinkled face. A string of colorful balloons floated above the solemn black-and-white portrait in front of the abandoned mine shaft. Even the photo of the miner's widow holding her husband's old safety helmet had been stamped with a line of deliberately crooked text: Be happy today. The entire collection looked like a cruel mockery. I looked up at Sophie, who was hiding behind Ethan. "You touched my computer?" Sophie shrank back, her voice immediately taking on a teary quaver. "I'm sorry, Nora, I just wanted to give you a surprise. Your photos are so heavy and depressing. Nobody feels good after looking at them. I added some cute things to lighten them up a bit. How was I supposed to know the judges would be so uptight?" The more she spoke, the more wronged she sounded, tears rolling down her cheeks in big drops. "I just thought that all those old people, ruins, and bad weather you photograph every day were too depressing. I was doing it for your own good." Ethan put his arm around her shoulders and patted her soothingly. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were filled with obvious disapproval. "Her intentions were good. She just doesn't understand the rules of photography competitions. You lost your spot this year, but you can apply again next year. I believe in your talent. Next year will be even better." He walked over to me, softening his voice. "Stop making a fuss. I can pay to rent you a small gallery and put on a solo exhibition to make up for it. If the review committee won't give you a chance, we'll create our own. Isn't that just as good?" No, it wasn't. A formal residency program would give me mentors, institutional resources, and career recommendations. A gallery he rented with his money would only become another performance proving he had the ability to clean up my messes. But I didn't explain any of that. I saved the review committee email, the altered files, and the computer login records, then screenshotted last night's ticket cancellation. I stored everything in a new folder. Then I zipped up the outer layer of my suitcase and snapped the lock shut. Ethan watched me and frowned again. "You're really going to leave?" I didn't answer. All I felt was that in this apartment, once filled with countless beautiful memories, even the air was suffocating now. Chapter 2 I slipped my phone into my coat pocket, ignoring Ethan's question. At the entryway, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a spare key. Ethan had insisted on giving me this key six months ago. That day he'd leaned against the doorframe and told me with a smile that from now on, this wasn't just his apartment. It was our home. My books, cameras, and clothes could stay wherever I wanted, and I'd never have to pack up like a temporary guest every time I left. That sentence had made me happy for a long time. Now, I placed the key gently in the brass tray on the shoe cabinet. Metal met metal with a crisp clink. Ethan's gaze fell on the key, and his expression finally changed. "What is this supposed to mean?" I didn't look at him. Instead, I took out my phone again and opened the photography cloud drive we shared. This account held most of the material I'd shot over the past few years. Ethan had said that couples shouldn't have secrets, and Sophie was always borrowing my photos for her travel scrapbooks, so I'd never put up any safeguards. I went into device management and revoked access for Ethan's computer, phone, and the living room tablet. Then I changed the password, turned off automatic sharing, and opened the travel app to find Ethan and Sophie's names on the companion list. Unlinked. Emergency contact deleted. Location sharing turned off. One thing after another. I did it slowly and deliberately. Ethan walked over just in time to see me logging out of the shared account. He slammed his hand down on my phone screen, the veins on the back of his hand standing out. "What were you screenshotting? Why did you leave the shared drive? You even deleted the travel link and the emergency contact?" He stared me down, his voice sharp with offended anger. "We've known each other for years, and now, over a few tickets and a few photos, you're going to tally up every last thing between us? Are you planning to post those screenshots online and put us on public trial?" I looked at his hand pressing down on the screen. He didn't care at all about what I'd lost or what those negatives meant to me. His first thought was whether I would let anyone else find out what they'd done. I pulled my phone out from under his hand. "I'm just cleaning up data I no longer need." Sophie was crying even louder now. She walked over and reached for the hem of my coat. "Nora, you were never like this before. Do you think we owe you something? We were just joking around. Why do you have to take things this far?" That sentence was like a thin needle, piercing exactly the place I least wanted touched. I looked at Sophie's tear-reddened eyes and remembered the year we were sixteen, when my parents' marriage fell apart for good. My father moved out, my mother locked herself in the bedroom all day, and I had nothing but a few coins left. I couldn't even afford school lunch. Sophie was the one who pressed her meal card into my hand and sat on the cafeteria steps, telling me, "Eat first. Don't worry about what the grownups are doing. You still have me." I also remembered our second year of university, when I had my first panic attack in a crowded Tube station that triggered my asthma. Ethan carried me on his back and ran through the rain for several blocks before he could flag down a taxi. He stayed with me the entire night, holding my hand and saying, "Whenever you're scared, come find me. I won't leave you alone." Because they had once been genuinely, wholeheartedly good to me, I forgave them again and again. I always thought those pranks were just the mischievous side of their personalities. I always believed that if I was patient enough, we could keep going like this forever. But the kindness of the past should never become a free pass for them to trample my boundaries. I pulled up the handle of my suitcase. "You don't owe me anything. I just can't afford friendship and care like yours." I stepped around them and pushed open the apartment door. The cold early-winter wind of London rushed into the hallway, scattering the stifling heaviness that had filled the room. In the taxi to the airport, I watched the red brick houses and rain-slicked streets recede through the window. My phone suddenly lit up with a new message from my advisor, Professor Reed. "Nora, I just filed an appeal with the review committee on your behalf. They confirmed your original files were altered by someone else, but the review process is already complete. Your spot cannot be restored for now." I gripped my phone tightly. The next message came quickly. "However, the Scottish Highland Photography Center had a temporary residency spot reserved for a partner institution. It's in Inverness, focused on photographing the winter lake district and Highland communities. Would you like to go? If so, I'll have them send over the invitation letter today." I stared at those lines, and my eyes began to sting. I replied, "Yes, Professor. I want to go." Professor Reed wrote back quickly. "Having your work destroyed isn't the end. You're still here, your eyes are still here, and you can start again. Take care of yourself when you get there. Everything else, one step at a time." I pressed my phone against my chest and took a deep breath. The taxi pulled up outside the airport departure hall. After checking my luggage, I had just walked up to the security line when Ethan's call came through. I stared at his name flashing on the screen, hesitated for a few seconds, then answered. "Nora, you've cooled off long enough. Come back." His voice carried the familiar coaxing tone. "I've already booked the guesthouse in Bath. The three of us can go for a nice walk together. When we get there, I'll take lots of photos of you. Sophie promised she won't touch your computer again." In the background, Sophie's voice chimed in, sugary and wheedling. "She just wants us to come get her. Ethan, ask her where she is. We'll go right now." Ethan sighed and softened his voice even more. "Be good. Send me your location. I'll come pick you up." I looked up at the flight information scrolling across the terminal's display screen. "I don't want either of you to come get me." "I just want to get far away from you both." I hung up. Over the speakers, a calm announcement followed: due to weather changes in the north, the flight to Inverness was expected to be delayed by two hours. Chapter 3 The delay announcement played on loop through the departure hall. I found a seat by the window and bought a hot coffee to warm my hands. Outside the glass, low clouds hung heavy over the tarmac, which gleamed wet with drizzle. My phone screen lit up with a notification from our mutual friends' group chat. I opened it and immediately saw a screenshot Sophie had just posted of her social media update. In the photo, she and Ethan were standing downstairs from the apartment, both holding their tickets to Bath, wearing the aggrieved look of two people fresh out of an argument. The caption read: "I just wanted to help my friend lighten up a little, and I got treated like a criminal. I guess some people can only suffer with you, not enjoy life with you. I'll never wear my heart on my sleeve for anyone again." The first comment was Ethan's. "She's stubborn. Give her a few days to cool off and she'll come around. Ignore her." Mutual friends rallied around Sophie. Some said I was too sensitive, some said it was just a train ticket and not worth destroying a years-long friendship, and others asked if they could still go ahead with the trip. Reading those lines, I couldn't even summon anger. The whole thing was just laughable. I didn't argue in the comments. I just screenshotted the post, the comments, and the chat, and saved everything to the evidence folder. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a flurry of hurried footsteps came from outside the departure area. I looked up, and my eyes met Ethan's anxious gaze. There was a thin sheen of sweat at his temples. One shoulder of his dark coat was soaked from the rain, and he clutched two crumpled rebooking receipts in his hand. When he saw me sitting safe and sound in my chair, the relief was visible. He strode over to me. His first instinct wasn't to ask where I was going. Instead, he reached out and touched the side of my coffee cup. "At least you had the sense to buy something hot. You're not stupid enough to wreck your own health." That familiar thoughtfulness made me waver for an instant. There was a time when I craved those small gestures more than anything. He would tilt the umbrella toward me in the rain. He would check with the waiter about peanuts before I even had to ask. In winter, he would tuck my hands into his coat pockets. But the very next second, Sophie's voice dragged me back to reality. "Nora, I was just telling Ethan you probably don't have anything real in that suitcase. It's all for show." She poked her head out from behind Ethan, her eyes bright with the thrill of having caught me in the act. "You never actually planned to leave, did you? You just ran off to the airport to trick us into coming after you." I ignored her and looked only at Ethan. "How did you know which terminal I was in, let alone which gate?" Ethan took out his phone. The screen showed a location map. A green dot sat right on top of the departure area in front of me. "I was worried about your lens set getting stolen, so I put a Bluetooth tracker in the hidden pocket of your camera bag a while back." He put his phone away as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his voice even carrying a hint of self-congratulation. "Didn't think it'd actually come in handy today. Nora, stop all this, okay?" My heart went cold, degree by degree. I'd logged out of the shared cloud drive, unlinked the travel app, turned off location sharing, even changed my phone password, and none of it had stopped this kind of surveillance dressed up as protection. What did he think I was? An object he could track and retrieve at any time? "We rebooked our Bath train to come find you." Ethan looked at me with the patience of a man doing me a favor. "That makes us even now, doesn't it? You cost us two rebooking fees, and we didn't even blame you." Sophie immediately chimed in. "Exactly. Who actually runs away from home like some movie character? What if something happened to you out there alone? Have you even thought about the people who care about you?" As she spoke, she reached for the camera bag at my feet. "Let me see. If you were really going to leave, there's no way it's still empty, right? Or did you just stuff in some snacks and a jacket?" I shot to my feet and blocked her. "Don't touch my bag." Sophie flinched at my reaction but didn't let go. "What's the big deal? Looking at it won't break anything." I tried to pry her hand off, and she gripped tighter. In the tug-of-war, the camera bag's shoulder strap let out a sharp ripping sound. The next second, the entire bag crashed onto the marble floor. The zipper hadn't been fully closed, and my most-used telephoto lens rolled out, hitting the floor with a clear, shattering crack. The glass fractured into a spiderweb pattern, and the lens hood bent out of shape on impact. The memory card case popped open, and several black SD cards slid across the floor, toward the shoes and luggage wheels of passing travelers. My ears started ringing. The announcements, the crowd, the rumble of rolling luggage in the departure hall seemed to vanish all at once. I stood frozen, staring at the cracked lens. I had bought that lens when I was eighteen, with the prize money from my very first photography award. It had been with me through the mines of Wales, the coast of Cornwall, and the very project that had just been destroyed. In the shattered glass, my ashen face stared back at me. My chest suddenly felt like a fist was squeezing around it. I instinctively reached for the emergency medication in the side pocket of my camera bag, but my hand came up empty. Chapter 4 I sank slowly to my knees on the cold marble floor and began picking up the scattered SD cards. One card had slid under a stranger's suitcase. I bent down to reach for it, but my fingertips hit a shard of broken filter glass first. A sharp sting, then blood welling up instantly, dripping onto the edge of a nearby boarding pass and blooming into a small dark-red stain. Sophie stumbled back two steps, her face white. But the first thing out of her mouth was still, "I didn't do it on purpose. Who told you to pull so hard? If you hadn't tried to grab it from me, the bag never would have fallen." Ethan walked over with a frown and glanced at the broken lens on the floor. He crouched down, his tone as measured and rational as ever. "The lens is broken. I'll buy you a new one. Cards can be replaced, and even if the data's corrupted, we can hire someone to recover it. Get up first. The floor is cold. Don't make yourself sick again." Those cards held the footage I was preparing to submit to the Highland residency center, all the negatives I needed for a second chance, and the last set of raw files for my graduation exhibition that I hadn't had time to back up. One card contained a shot I'd waited nine hours in a downpour to capture. Another held the moment a miner's widow agreed to face the camera for the first time. And one more held a rare profile of my mother, taken after my father left, on one of her few good days when she allowed me to photograph her. But to Ethan, all of that was just a breezy "it's broken, buy a new one." I picked up the SD cards one by one and curled my fingers around them. Just then, the airport announcement came on again. "Passengers traveling to Inverness, your flight is now boarding. Please proceed to the designated gate with a valid boarding pass." Sophie froze, then whipped her head toward the speaker. "Inverness? You didn't buy a ticket to Bath?" Ethan's gaze finally dropped to the blood-stained boarding pass next to my hand. The composure and entitlement on his face shattered in that instant. "Nora, you're serious?" He bent down sharply and grabbed my wrist so hard my bones ached. "You're really going to the Scottish Highlands alone? Do you know how cold it is up there right now? Over something like this, you're giving up the study trip the university arranged?" I looked up. "Something like this?" I gathered the bloodied SD cards into my palm, my voice quiet but perfectly clear. "Cancelling the train ticket I spent half a year working to buy, then betting on when I'd notice. That's something like this." "Destroying the work I spent a month in the mountains shooting, costing me the most important opportunity before graduation. That's something like this." "Now, smashing my lens and ruining my graduation materials. That's still something like this." I looked at his face draining of color. "Ethan, how cheap is my life in your eyes?" Ethan's jaw clenched as he fought to hold back his temper. He tried to soften his voice. "Do you really have to blow a few accidents up to that level? I've already said I'll make it right. I'll buy the lens, put on the exhibition, pay for Bath. What more do you want from me?" I wrenched my hand free. A ring of red marks quickly surfaced on my wrist. Boarding had already started, but Professor Reed had just messaged to say the people at the Highland center didn't mind waiting, and I could catch the next shuttle out. Right now, what mattered more was retrieving my backup hard drive and my emergency medication. I hadn't been able to find my medication earlier. I must have left it on the nightstand in the rush of packing that morning. The portable hard drive was in the bottom drawer of the study, holding a second backup of most of my original files. I shoved the broken lens back into the bag, clutched the SD cards in my hand, and turned toward the airport exit. Ethan thought I'd finally wavered. He immediately caught up. "See, you can't bring yourself to leave after all. Let's go home first. We can talk about everything there. Once you've calmed down, we'll head to Bath together tomorrow morning." I didn't explain. Back at the apartment, I went straight to the study, dug the black portable hard drive out of the bottom drawer, and found the backup medication case and EpiPen behind the nightstand. I had just finished packing everything into my backpack when the apartment door was pushed open. Ethan strode in and shut the door behind him. Sophie hadn't followed. She was probably still downstairs. Ethan stripped off his rain-soaked coat, and his voice was terrifyingly cold. "How long are you going to keep this up? Sophie is still downstairs crying. She's so guilt-ridden about breaking your lens she can barely breathe, and you can't even give her a single word of comfort." I zipped up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. "Ethan, you always see her tears first." "That's because at least she knows she was wrong!" He raised his voice. "And you? From last night you've been acting like we ruined your entire life. You left the key, deleted the shared access, ran to the airport, and now you're planning to run off somewhere that far away, all by yourself. Are you solving a problem, or deliberately punishing us?" I looked at him in silence. I finally realized that explaining your pain to someone who will always think you're overreacting is pointless. "Ethan, we're done." His expression froze. I said each word with absolute clarity. "We're breaking up. From now on, whoever you and Sophie want to bet on, whoever's life you want to arrange, it has nothing to do with me." The room was silent for a few seconds. Then, as if he had heard something utterly absurd, Ethan let out a low laugh. "You're ending four years of us over a few pranks?" Chapter 5 Ethan stood in front of me, his expression shifting slowly from shock to anger. He clearly hadn't taken "breaking up" as a real decision. He treated it as something I'd said in anger to force him into backing down. "Nora, you're not thinking straight right now." He stared at the backpack on my shoulder. "Put your things down first. We can talk when you've calmed down." "There's nothing to talk about." I walked toward the door. Ethan suddenly reached out and snatched the medication case and EpiPen from my hand. I froze. "Give those back." "Stop trying to scare me with this." He clutched the medication case, his face dark. "You already pulled the can't-breathe act once at the airport. I know you have asthma, but you don't have an attack every time you get emotional. Stay here and rest. When you've thought things through, I'll give you the medication." I reached for it. He stepped back quickly, opened the door, and walked out. "Ethan!" The door slammed shut in my face. Then came the sound of a key sliding into the lock from the outside. This apartment was in a converted old townhouse, and the door still had an old-fashioned double-sided key lock. Even from the inside, you needed a key to open it. My spare key had just been placed back in the brass tray in the entryway, and he'd taken it with him on his way out. The deadbolt clicked into place. "You're not going anywhere today." Ethan's voice came through the door with a finality that left no room for argument. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just can't watch you run around in this state. When you've calmed down, I'll come back for you." I pounded on the door. "Give me my medication! Ethan, I'm not trying to scare you!" Silence on the other side. Then he said, "Stop with the act." After that, footsteps growing fainter until they were gone. I stood behind the door, listening as the sound disappeared entirely, my hands and legs trembling beyond my control. I rushed to the doorknob and twisted. The door didn't budge. I ran to the kitchen to look for a spare key. The drawer was empty. The window could only push outward a narrow crack, and the bedroom was on the fourth floor. There was no way out from there. The cramped apartment had become a sealed cage. My breathing began to tighten. My chest felt like a boulder had been dropped on it. Every inhale came with a tearing pain, and a thin whistling sound rose from my throat. I slid down against the door to the floor, shaking as I pulled out my phone and called Ethan. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. I clenched my teeth and opened Sophie's message thread. "Tell Ethan to open the door. I don't have my medication. He took my emergency medication." A minute later, Sophie replied. "Nora, stop with the act. Ethan is exhausted too." "He just wants you to stay home and think about what you've done. Why do you always have to push him this far?" I stared at the screen, my vision starting to blur. At the same time, a message from Ethan popped up in the mutual friends' group chat. Someone asked if they were still going to Bath. His reply was casual. "We'll go a bit later. Nora's been getting more and more difficult. I told her to stay home and think about things for a few hours." "We've spoiled her rotten. She thinks everyone should cater to her. Once she figures out who actually treats her well, she'll settle down." That line, "think about things for a few hours," was the last straw. I gasped for air, my vision going black in waves. My limbs were numb, my heart slamming so fast it felt ready to burst through my chest. Yet in my ears, I kept hearing what Ethan had once said as he held my hand in the emergency room. Whenever you're scared, come find me. I won't leave you alone. Now, the person who had locked me in and taken my medication was also him. I couldn't die here. I braced myself against the wall and staggered to my feet, lurching toward the narrow back balcony. The balcony's sliding door had an old safety latch on the outside that Ethan had locked that morning when he'd hung the laundry out to dry. He'd taken that key too. I grabbed a metal tripod from the corner and swung it at the glass door with everything I had. The first hit left only a few cracks. The second sent a muffled shudder through the glass, fractures spreading like a spiderweb. The third time, I could barely hold onto the tripod, but I gritted my teeth and brought it down again. A crash. The glass shattered completely, shards flying everywhere, slicing my arms and the side of my face. I didn't stop to think about the pain. I kept smashing away the jagged pieces around the opening until the gap was large enough for me to lean out and call for help. The building manager in the courtyard below heard the noise and looked up to see me, covered in blood, hunched over the broken glass. He immediately called emergency services and the police. About ten minutes later, firefighters and the building manager opened the door from the outside. Paramedics gave me oxygen, then used a bronchodilator in the ambulance to pull my dropping blood oxygen levels back up. In the emergency room, a doctor stitched up the wound on my arm. Seven stitches. When the anesthetic needle went in, I didn't feel the pain. I just held on tight to the backpack in my arms, making sure the portable hard drive was still there, making sure the remaining SD cards hadn't been lost again. The attending physician, on hearing that my emergency medication had been taken from me and that I'd been locked in, followed hospital protocol and notified the police. The officer taking my statement at the bedside asked if I wished to file formal charges for unlawful confinement and endangering my health. I was silent for a long time. Finally, I nodded. It wasn't for revenge. I simply understood, at last, that if I kept covering for them, they would always believe they had just been joking. Two hours later, Ethan returned to the apartment. He must have seen the shattered glass all over the floor and the bloodstains. He started frantically searching for me in the group chat. "Nora, why is there blood on the floor?" "Where are you? Answer the phone!" "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to calm down. I didn't know you'd actually have an attack." Sophie also sent a string of voice messages. "Nora, where did you go? I thought he was just trying to scare you. I really didn't know it would turn out like this. Please don't scare us. Just say something, okay?" I looked at the messages piling up and felt a strange calm. No anger, no grievance. Only a barren kind of relief, the kind that comes after something has finally, completely ended. With the hand that hadn't been stitched, I typed two final messages in the mutual friends' group chat. "The moment you locked me in that room and took my emergency medication, every kindness you ever showed me was paid back in full." "From now on, I owe you nothing. We will never see each other again." After sending, I left the group chat and blocked Ethan, Sophie, and every mutual friend who had piled on. The doctor recommended I stay overnight for observation because my heart rate was still unstable. I refused. I completed the discharge paperwork, finished giving my statement at the police station, and filed for a temporary restraining order. At three in the morning, I sat in the airport departure hall and rebooked the earliest flight to Inverness. This time, I didn't look back.