When Sehun found her, she was dreaming. Her skin burned him when he touched her, and she smelled like smoke.

“Wake up,” he said, shaking her roughly. She thrashed about in response, and her tiny fists hit him with surprising strength. He gathered her in his arms to keep her safe, wincing when she clocked him in the face. Bruises dotted her arms, and he watched in horror and fascination as burns appeared on her neck. In the middle of one particularly violent spasm, she suddenly stopped. Sehun didn’t know whether to feel relieved or afraid.

“Wake up, please,” Sehun said desperately, as his eyes began to sting with unspilled tears. For a few minutes, the girl lay perfectly still. Sehun’s breath caught in his throat as he moved his finger along the one burn on her neck.

“That hurts.” It was only a whisper, but it was enough. The girl pushed herself up, and stumbled away from him.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He meant, “Do you remember now?”

“I’m fine,” she said, staring pointedly at the ground. Her voice wavered, and Sehun couldn’t tell whether that was because of fatigue or fear.

“Why were you in this room?” he asked, changing the subject. The girl looked at him, blinking back tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to leave. “I trusted all the wrong people.”

She ran out, crashing into the door.