)

The hospital floor was quiet. Grayson searched the first floor again, glancing into each patient's room, but there was no sign of Alison. Where did she run of to?

A group of kids appeared around the corner, racing past him, laughing despite their condition, playing a game Grayson recognize as hide-and-seek. "If I were Alison, where would I hide?"

Grayson and Jameson bumped into each other in their mother's room while trying to find a hiding spot. "What are you doing here?" Grayson rubbed his sore forehead from the collision. "Same as you," Jameson messaged his head.

Before Grayson could argue back, they both went still as they heard faint footsteps coming from outside. Thinking quickly, Grayson opened a hidden door in the closet and slipped into a secret passage with Jameson.

Grayson had memorized all the secret passages in True North like the back of his hand. He had been exploring the entire building since he was five years old. It was amusing to see his 7-year-old brother, Jameson, feeling a bit lost on his first time at True North.

Jameson suddenly stopped, pulling on Grayson's shirt. "Stop," he whispered.

"Why?" Grayson spun around to confront his brother, but the darkness made it difficult to see anything.

"Someone's here," Jameson replied. And just then, Xander dashed out from behind Jameson, crashing into him and causing Grayson to stumble and fall backward, with all three of them toppling over like a line of dominoes.

"Nice of you to join us, Xander," Grayson scoffed.

"Like wise, Gray." Xander stood up and helped Jameson get back on his feet. Jameson dusted himself off and shot Xander a playful glare. "You're always one step behind, Xan."

Grayson rubbed his sore backside and sighed. "Speaking of behind, where did you come from?"

As far as Grayson knew, the only way to access this tunnel was through their mother's closet, which would lead them to a wine cellar.

"I was running from Nash, you know, our big scary brother?" Xander scratched his head, trying to remember. "I think we came from... Aunt Zara's room-"

"Actually, it was Uncle Toby's," a deep voice, Texas accent, corrected Xander.

Xander turned around while Jameson and Grayson squinted their eyes behind him. A bright light switched on, illuminating the tunnel and revealing a familiar face. "Am I interrupting something?" Nash's eyes sparkled mischievously as he leaned against the wall.

Jameson and Xander exchanged glances, then turned back to Grayson, who had already dashed off down the tunnel. Xander and Jameson tried to run, but Nash swiftly caught Xander by the collar. "Leaving so soon?" Nash taunted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Meanwhile, Jameson continued his sprint, following Grayson deeper into the tunnel. He called out, "No hard feelings, Xan!" as he disappeared into the distance, determined to win.

Grayson raced through the wine cellar, his breath growing heavier with each step. He didn't stop there though; he pushed himself further, running out into the snowy outdoors, bounding up the stairs, and finally finding refuge in his grandfather's study room. Exhausted, he settled under a davenport, hidden among the books that lined the room.

He knew that Jameson and Xander would seek revenge for leaving them with Nash. But he would win in the end, right?

His grandfather's study room was filled with nothing but books, a place where he felt safe and out of reach. It was the perfect hiding spot, and would be the last place his brothers would expect to find him.

Grayson watched the kids vanish around the corner, and a thought struck him. He remembered passing a room on the third floor filled with files about hospital patients. Could Alison be hiding there? There was only one way to find out.

He rode the elevator to the third floor and retraced his steps, memorizing the room numbers. Finally, he arrived at a door with a sign that said "No entry." Glancing around, he saw no cameras or people nearby. It was the perfect spot to go unnoticed.

Grayson turned the doorknob, entered the room, and found Alison reading a file. "It must be William and Hudson's file," he thought.

"You took your time," she said, her voice tinged with both sadness and amusement. "It took 30 minutes, that's a new record."

Grayson gently reached out and placed his hands on Alison's shoulders, guiding her to look at him. Her hands trembled as she held onto the files, and her eyes seemed devoid of life, a deep shade of blue. He could sense that she was on the verge of falling apart. How long had she concealed her pain? How much had she pretended?

But then, a sudden surge of memories flooded Grayson's mind, memories of Emily.

"Grayson," Emily whispered, her voice a haunting echo. Grayson stood there, frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from Alison. "It's not real," he insisted to himself. "It's not real."

"Grayson," Emily's voice called again, a bittersweet melody that pierced his soul. He closed his eyes, seeking solace and attempting to steady his racing heart.

Yet, despite his efforts, memories of Emily remained vivid. He saw her lying on the bed, stroking his hair and placing a kiss on his forehead.

Beads of sweat formed on Grayson's forehead, fear paralysing his body. He willed himself to move, but his limbs remained unresponsive. "Stop," he silently pleaded, denying the fake reality before him.

"I did this. It's all my fault," Alison confessed, her body now trembling uncontrollably. "You and everyone deserve happiness, even if it means sacrificing my own. I'm sorry."

Grayson's eyes flew open, his gaze fixed on Alison. In that instant, it felt like he was looking at himself in a mirror, seeing his own sadness reflected in her eyes. They both carried the weight of guilt and the struggles their family faced.

With a gentle touch, Grayson lifted Alison's chin, his eyes searching hers for a glimmer of hope, but only to find pools of profound sadness. "You deserve happiness too, just as much as anyone else," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

There was a palpable sense of longing or desire emanating from her. Grayson reached out to touch her face, half-expecting her to recoil, but she didn't. He traced her cheekbone, her skin was soft and warm to the touch. There was something about the way she looked at him that was both alluring and unsettling. Without thinking, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and gently pressed his lips against hers.

It was a gentle kiss at first, a tentative exploration of each other's lips. But then it deepened, becoming rough and desperate. "Alison needed this," he told himself. "I needed this."

Grayson's arms wrapped around Alison's hips, pulling her closer, and he could feel the heat of her body against his. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, and he shuddered at the sensation.

Alison gasped for air, but Grayson caught her bottom lip and pressed his lips against hers once more, stealing her breath away. Her fingers tangled in his silver blond hair, tugging and gripping the soft strands. A moan escaped Grayson's throat, the sound sending shivers down Alison's spine.

He hated the way his heart beat in sync with Alison's, his emotions battling within, torn between desire and fear. Yet, at that very instant, Grayson yearned to cling onto the spark between them, surrendering himself to its overwhelming pull, and allow it to consume him completely.