Chapter Sixty Three - Vivienne's Return

There was something about the quiet at Warren that didn't feel like peace—it felt like forgetting.

The rec room buzzed faintly with the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Harper sat curled into the window seat, legs pulled up, arms wrapped tight around her knees. She had been staring out at the trees for so long that they'd stopped looking like trees and started to look like a green smear against a smudged sky. Spring was blooming in soft blushes and pale greens, but the world behind glass didn't feel like hers yet.

She pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the window. Her reflection stared back at her—a little older, a little thinner. More haunted.

The door creaked open.

She didn't flinch. Flinching had become a luxury she couldn't afford. Her body registered noise like weather now: something to be endured.

But then a voice cut through.

"Harper?"

It was a boy's voice. Familiar. Cautious. Kind.

She turned her head slowly, breath catching.

Blake.

He looked awkward as ever, wearing a hoodie two sizes too big, with the strings knotted unevenly and a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. His curls were a little longer than before, brushing over his brows. But it was the expression on his face—open, worried, and warm—that made her throat close.

"Blake?" Her voice cracked like dry earth.

He took a hesitant step forward, holding up a crinkled brown paper bag. "I, uh... I brought snacks. Reese's. Gummy worms. And those weird spicy chips you like that taste like regret."

Harper's lips twitched. Barely.

Behind him, the door swung wider.

Vivienne.

For a heartbeat, Harper couldn't move. She just stared, eyes burning.

Viv looked tired. Not just physically—she looked like someone who had held her own world together with trembling fingers. Her hair was pulled into a messy braid over one shoulder, and her leather jacket was creased like she'd slept in it. But her eyes—those steady, brown eyes—still held Harper the same way they always had.

"Hi, Harp.." Viv said softly. Her voice wobbled. "I'm so sorry I've been gone. Things with my dad... got worse. I didn't mean to disappear."

Harper stood slowly, the blanket falling from her lap. Her feet hit the floor like it was something sacred.

She crossed the room and pulled Vivienne into a hug without hesitation. It wasn't graceful—it was desperate and quiet and everything Harper had held inside since the night everything fell apart.

Viv held her like she'd been waiting for this moment for months. One hand threaded through Harper's tangled hair, the other clutching her waist.

"I missed you." Harper whispered, voice raw.

"I missed you more." Viv said, her voice thick.

Blake stepped aside, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I can, uh, go if this is a girl's-only sob reunion..."

"No." Harper said immediately, stepping back but not letting go of Viv's hand. "Stay. Please."

They settled together in the corner of the rec room like a strange, quiet family—Viv lounging with her back against the wall, Blake sitting cross-legged beside her, Harper between them, her knees drawn to her chest.

"I thought I was too far gone for visits.." Harper said after a while, her voice almost too soft to hear. 

 Viv said firmly. "You were surviving. That's different."

Blake unzipped the brown bag and tossed her a packet of peanut butter cups. "We're here now. That counts for something, right?"

Harper nodded slowly, fingers tracing the ridges of the candy wrapper. "I'm really not okay." she said. "Some days, I feel like I'm made of glass. Like if someone looks at me too long, I'll shatter."

Viv reached over and gently ran her thumb along Harper's knuckles, feeling over each scar that lingered. "Then we'll be gentle with you."

Blake leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I heard about your grandmother.. We all did." he said quietly.

Harper's stomach twisted. "Yeah."

She gave a one-shoulder shrug, her tone light but not dismissive. "She always hated me. Thought I sold my soul to the devil.."

Vivienne laughed—really laughed—and Blake looked smug. "Well, now that she's dead, I can finally corrupt you with consent."

Harper blinked, then let out a surprised laugh. Her hand flew to her mouth like she wasn't sure she was allowed to feel joy anymore.

"She's gone." she said, the truth still strange on her tongue. "And somehow I still feel like she's in the room. Watching. Disapproving."

Viv said gently. "Shadows take time to disappear. You just keep stepping into the light, little by little."

"I don't even know who I am without the fear." Harper admitted, tears prickling.

"Then we start from scratch." Blake said. "Name. Interests. Favorite fruit. I'll make a spreadsheet."

Viv laughed again, bumping her shoulder into Harper's. "We'll figure it out. Together. Whatever the hell that looks like. You know you got us on your side."

Harper looked at them—really looked. Her people. Somehow, they had made it back to her. Bruised, but not broken.

The world still ached. The trauma hadn't vanished. But for the first time since Warren swallowed her whole, she could feel something inside her start to thaw.

Not healed.

But breathing.

And for now, that was enough.