We're up and out of the hotel by six a.m, ready for a twelve-hour drive back to Marine World. I feel sick the moment I wake, knowing this is the last chance I have to back out, to choose my freedom over the freedom of the people I love. I can't help but wonder if it makes me a terrible person to even think it, or if it is enough that I don't follow through with such thoughts. I pray it's the latter.

The first few hours of the drive are quiet. I want to say something, to have Reece reassure me in some way, but I'm too anxious to think of something coherent. Instead, I imagine myself back in Marine World, forced to perform for the guests again after briefly knowing freedom. Would I be able to stomach it? Would I be able to smile and twirl like I'd spent the last year doing, or would I be driven to insanity like Crystal?

"We should get there around eight," Reece says, his eyes fixed on the busy road. It's still relatively early, but the sun is already warming the window, offering me an inkling of comfort. "Ben's arranged for us to crash somewhere tonight, and then as soon as the park opens tomorrow morning, we'll head to Marine World."

I pull out my compact mirror, holding it tight. "This Ben guy," I say. "Do you trust him?" It's hard for me to imagine Reece's life outside of this. Who exactly is Reece when he's not trying to protect me? Who was Reece before I ever came along?

"Yeah, I do. I've been friends with him since we were kids. He was the only one there for me when–" he stops, and I notice his hands are gripping the steering wheel harder than usual. "When my mom died."

My expression softens as I study his profile. "What happened to her?"

There is a long silence. "She was a humanitarian," Reece says. "She was always going to war torn countries to supply aid to those who needed it. It's how my parents first met. My dad was in the military and had been stationed in the same country." He stops for a moment to take a slight breath, like he wants to get it all out at once. "She promised him she'd stop going to these places once she had me, but she couldn't. She felt it her duty to protect people. To help them. Then one day, my dad got a call saying she'd been caught in an explosion."

I study his face, struggling to understand what exactly had happened. I'd come across the word 'war' in my dictionary before, but sometimes it is difficult to picture a concept I have no experience of.

"But your mom was there to help," I say, staring at Reece for some kind of explanation.

"Yeah, well, that's the thing about war," Reece says, his eyes clouding over. "It's always the innocent who suffer."

Things fall silent again. I begin to wonder if maybe Marine World had been telling the truth all along. Maybe the real world is dark and cruel, but I've just been too naive to believe it.

I sleep for the next few hours, soothed by the melodic sounds emitting from the radio, though they aren't soothing enough to keep the nightmares at bay. I wake up several times in a sweat, dreading the moment we arrive.

We stop for gas at some point, stretching our legs in the warm summer heat before walking towards Bob's Breakfast . Reece stands close to me once we get inside, his arm around my waist. I scan the menu, this time able to recognize a few more words, like pancakes and eggs.

I smile at such a small accomplishment, realizing just how far I have come since the diner. I'd been so afraid I would never pick things up quickly enough or that I'd never survive in the real world, and now I know with a little perseverance, I can.

When we finally get to the counter, we order our food before being given a ticket, and then Reece takes my hand and leads me to the side counter to wait for our meals. As soon as we have our food bags we're back on the road, nibbling on fries and slurping on chocolate milkshakes as the signs for Marine World come into view.

It's not long before Reece pulls into the gates of a neighborhood, one that reminds me of the mermaid enclosure back in Marine World. Palm trees line the side of the road, and the streets are cobbled, each street-lamp the same canary yellow as the tulips.

Rose shrubs line the sidewalks, hedged and trimmed into the perfect spheres, bursting with pink blossoms. Local restaurants soon give way to large Victorian houses, each one painted a pale yellow, blue, or beige. In one of the front yards, a man mows his lawn in a white flannel shirt and khaki green shorts. He waves as we pass, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead.

This neighborhood is like another world almost, where ugliness ceases to exist. Where each puzzle piece, from the sign posts to the flowerbeds seem to slot together seamlessly.

"This place is beautiful," I say.

Reece scans the palm trees lining the road. "Don't be fooled. The kind of people living here are about as insincere as they come."

I think about this for a moment, unsettled by his statement. I'd wanted to believe Marine World was the exception, not the rule, but it seems as if the real world is just as flawed, and just as desperate to hide it. Maybe the only reason beauty exists in the first place is to mask the ugliness.

I look at my hands, examining my smooth, flawless skin. Just like this neighborhood, I am perfectly contrived, designed for a purpose. And if beauty's only purpose is to conceal the ugliness, what ugliness is lurking behind mine?

Reece pulls into a large, circular driveway. The house before us is large and sprawling, painted the same shade of blue as the others.

"Ben lives here?" I ask. Its orderliness reminds me of the moment I'd stepped out of the enclosure, where fountains soared and flowers bloomed from either side of the walkway.

"Not Ben," Reece says, pulling the keys from the ignition. "Marine World probably has people scoping out his place. It belongs to a friend of Ben's girlfriend. Her parents are out of town for the weekend and said we could crash."

The front door is thrown open, and a tall, thin man lingers in the doorway, his arms folded as he studies me with caution. He is at least six-foot, with curly, blond hair and plump lips that pull down into a scowl as soon as I meet his gaze.

He moves towards us, peering through the open car door with an eyebrow raised. "That her?" he asks.

Reece shoots him a look. "Who else would it be?" He makes his way around the car before opening my door. I try to stand up, but my legs feel stiff. Reece is by my side in an instant, hooking his arm around my waist before pulling me to my feet.

I turn to Ben and give him a smile. "Hi, I'm Aura."

Ben stares back with a blank expression. "You sound like a robot."

Reece glares at him and leads me towards the house in silence. I follow him up the rickety stairs, taking in everything at once: the old photo frames lining the walls, the fluffy, mismatched rugs that are strewn across the floorboards. Despite its vastness, the house seems homely, the kind of place I'd imagined Alison to live in.

Reece takes me through the first door we come across and I peer inside, my breath catching in my throat. It is three times bigger than the night enclosure, with a large four-poster bed and a white feathered duvet cover I will probably get lost is.

What's left of the sunlight pours in from the bay windows. I close the distance and peer outside, finding a large, sprawling pool. "This room is all mine?" I ask uncertainly.

Reece smiles at me. "All yours," he says, pushing a tendril of hair behind my ear. "At least, for now. I'll leave you to get settled in, all right? If you need anything, let me know."

I turn to face him, giving him a grateful look before he shuts the door behind him. The first thing I do is face plant the bed, relishing in its softness. This room is like something from one of my fairytales, of princesses in palaces with treasures galore, and for once, I allow myself to enjoy it.

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