𝐀 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐒𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐞 𝐀𝐔 | EDITING |

07 | Keefe | January 2nd

Something was wrong.

Something had been wrong since Sophie and Keefe had arrived the day before at the Matchmaking Scientific Reserve in Los Angels. Keefe had felt it in the parking garage. It'd felt like when you knowingly held something sharp to your forehead and a buzz ran through you. He hadn't wanted to mention it to Sophie, just like he hadn't mentioned the noises in the house; he didn't want to alarm her if it was just him being paranoid.

But that wasn't the only thing that made him on edge. He'd been in a small, glaringly white room since noon the previous day. It was now Saturday and he hadn't had any contact with Sophie. Keefe stood up from the lounge chair he'd been watching TV in, walking past the small bathroom, exam table, and then to the door. Still locked.

"Maybe I'm in prison," he mumbled to himself, stuffing his hands in Biana's pockets. Not only were the doors suspiciously locked but only an occasional woman named Kris dressed in scrubs brought him food; the same young woman who had called Sophie and Keefe up from the waiting room and sent them to different rooms. No doctors, no anthropologists, nothing, and the unease was really beginning to set in as the clock above the door struck four in the afternoon.

With a sigh of defeat, he shuffled back to the slightly darker shade of white chair and slumped down. At least he'd had success connecting to WiFi.

Was Sophie alright? He wished he'd gotten her phone number to text since he hadn't seen or heard of anything about her. And was she better from the weird trance she'd gone into in the car? What even was that? One minute, she was fine, talking about the Reserve, the next she was staring out the window dully, not responding to Keefe. It had to be a result of the weird soulmate mixup but the previous times she said she'd had it, it'd never been visible to him. Maybe in the car, it was something entirely else, not having to do with their situation.

And when he'd reached out to touch her, he'd felt a cool feeling run through him and transfer to her. It was almost like he'd made her feel his emotions. And when he'd placed his hand atop her's, he'd felt in his core what she was experiencing and that was absolute nothingness. Was that even possible to feel her emotions; to transfer his own to her? He'd have to ask her when they saw each other again but that brought up another question.

If he theoretically got her out of that trance, could he have been the cause of it? If there was one thing he knew it was that this had nothing to do with their biological mixup. It was scary to think that he'd been the cause of what happened to her but he shut that thought down, deeming it frivolous.

"Alright Keefe, time to cause destruction," he announced to no one in particular, pushing himself out of the chair and grabbing his bag. He snatched up the TV remote and turned up the volume as he scampered to the back of the room and popped open the window. Things were off in the Reserve and he decided escaping and going to find Sophie would be the best bet of getting out of whatever lurking situation he felt coming on.

He gazed down into the courtyard with people milling around below, Biana's wavy brown hair falling into his face. They were on the second story and the drop was at least thirty feet. The chance of jumping and not breaking his legs were slim and scaling was nonexistent. Plus, there was too big of an audience. Maybe if he-

"I wouldn't suggest jumping, you'd break a lot of bones in your legs but if your into that stuff go for it," suggested an older male voice behind him. Keefe spun around to make eye contact with a man with curly brown hair sticking in all directions, large circular glasses, and bright clothes. For a second, Keefe thought him to be a regular - but very strange - person until he caught sight of the lab coat and realized he was a doctor.

Keefe edged away from the window suspiciously. "Where's Foster?" he asked with his eyes narrowing. "And it wouldn't be the first time I've jumped out of a window." It'd been a poorly planned dare that he did not want to revisit at the moment.