We make it to the staff room. Mitch helps clean me up while I scrub my hair, hands, and face in the sink. The water runs pink for a moment, swirling down the drain. I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection. My eyes look too wide, too hollow.
Mitch gently wipes the blood from my fleece with a damp cloth, his jaw clenched tight.
"Why are you risking your job?" I ask, drying my hands with a paper towel.
He shrugs. "I'm less likely to get sacked than you."
I glance down at my fleece and give a weak smile. "It doesn't matter anyway... it's red."
He stops wiping, squints at it, and drops it in his lap. "Oh yeah," he mutters, like he's only just noticed.
I sit beside him, the weight of everything starting to settle in my chest. "So… what now? Are we closing the park?"
Mitch huffs through his nose and leans back against the wall. "Darren always gets his way. He won't close it, he'll just cordon it off and act like nothing happened."
With a small grunt, he pulls off his fleece and holds it out to me. "You're better off borrowing mine for the rest of the shift."
I take it, slipping it over my shoulders. It's still warm. Familiar. Smells like his cologne and sugar dust from the candy stand.
"Thanks," I murmur.
Just then, the staff room door swings open and Lollie walks in with Sammy. They're followed closely by Mike and Dom. Dom's face is thunder.
"What the hell was that?" Dom barks, pointing a finger like he's trying to pin someone against the wall.
"I messed up," Mitch says before anyone else can speak. "I let a girl on, she was under height."
"Come on, Mitch," Sam interjects, frowning. "You never make mistakes."
"Well, I did, okay?" Mitch snaps, his voice cracking just enough to sting. He storms out without another word.
Mike and Lollie look at me. She steps forward, eyes scanning my face like she's trying to read through me.
"You okay?" she asks softly.
"Yeah. I'm fine." I force a smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes. I leave them behind and head after Mitch.
I spot him heading toward Phil's office, his steps quick and purposeful. I jog to catch up.
"Mitch!"
He turns. When he sees me, he jogs back a few steps and meets me halfway.
"Stay out of this, Pup," he says firmly. "I'm already in deep trouble. You can't be involved."
"Just let me stand in with you," I plead. "I'll be your witness."
He pauses. His gaze softens. He reaches out and ruffles my hair like he always does. Then he turns and walks inside.
I follow anyway.
"I was hoping you'd join us," Darren says as I walk in. His smirk makes my skin crawl.
"I told you not to get involved," Mitch mutters, not even looking at me.
"I was a witness. I need to be here," I say quickly.
"He's right," Phil chimes in. "Eden was part of it too."
We sit down across from them. Darren immediately begins scribbling in his little black notebook like we're suspects in a crime scene.
"So," Phil begins, "who let the customers in?"
Mitch stares at the floor for a second, then lifts his chin. "Me."
"And who was on the controls?"
"Me," he says again, firmer this time.
Phil and Darren exchange a glance. One of those silent ones that makes my stomach twist.
"What did Eden do then?" Darren presses.
"I was on the controls. It was my first time—I panicked," I blurt, trying to sound convincing.
Phil slams his pen down. "Can we tell the truth, lads?"
"Eden, you were covered in blood," Darren adds, eyes narrowing. "You weren't in the booth. Explain that."
"I let them in," Mitch cuts in, calm but sharp. "Eden was in the booth. We did the checks. Then I swapped. I ran the ride."
"Which left Eden outside the booth during the accident?" Phil asks, clearly skeptical.
"Yes," I say, nodding.
Darren scoffs. "Was that so hard?"
We both shake our heads.
Phil leans back, rubbing his forehead. "Mitchell, I'm suspending you while we investigate. We'll speak to witnesses and follow up."
Mitch goes pale. He swallows, nods once, and stands.
I get up to follow.
"You've got one hour before I give you the suspension letter," Phil adds. "Finish your shift with Eden. I'll send a replacement trainer after."
We walk in silence toward the next ride. The path between rides feels longer than usual. I can't stop glancing at Mitch—his face is tight, unreadable.
"You could lose everything," I murmur.
He nods, still looking ahead. "Come on, Pup. Last shift together—for a while."
"Why did you do that?"
"What, lie?"
"Yeah. Now your job's on the line."
"I saved your ass," he says with a lopsided grin.
We reach the next ride. Lollie and Sam are already there, waiting like nothing's happened.
I plod over to Lollie and throw my arms around her in a big, goofy hug.
"What's up with you?" she laughs, surprised.
"Nothing. Just hugging my best friend," I chuckle, trying to lighten the weight in my chest.
Mitch chats briefly with Sam. I lean against the railing by the control panel, watching the riders scream as the carts spin past.
"Mitch has been summoned again," he tells me. "Mike's tagging in with you."
I nod. Mitch gives me a tight smile, then disappears around the corner.
Mike strolls up and claps a hand on my shoulder.
"Yo, bro!"
"Hey, man."
He sets his bottle down and starts letting the next group of customers in. The ride's a beast—a spinning coaster that jerks and lurches like a waltzer possessed. It's one of our busiest.
Mike secures the bars and gives me the nod. I press the button.
Then—vision. The air around me thins.
A cart gets stuck at the top. I radio it in. Mike climbs. Another train barrels through and a loose pole—sharp, jagged—pierces his side.
I blink hard. The image won't leave. My chest tightens.
"Eden? Safety bars..." Mike prompts, frowning.
"Yeah. Sure." I fumble with the buttons, hands shaking.
Then the red light flashes. Emergency.
One cart is stuck.
"Ugh. I'll fix it," Mike groans, already moving.
"Don't!" I shout.
I yank the radio to my lips. "Mitch, a cart's stuck at the top. I need help—someone's gonna get hurt."
"We're on our way. Don't do anything stupid."
But Mike's already halfway up the stairs.
"Stay there—no one move!" I yell at the riders. I chase after Mike.
He's climbing fast. I scramble after him.
"Help me push!" he says at the top.
I hesitate. Then I join him.
"One, two, three—now!"
The cart shifts.
Then the rattling starts. Screeching metal.
My body moves before I think. I shove Mike aside as the pole rips free.
It impales me.
I feel the weight drive through my chest. Blood bursts out. I collapse, breath caught, like the world is underwater.
"Rather me than you," I whisper, smiling even though I can't feel my lips.
"Eden!" Mike screams.
"Eden, no!" Mitch yells, sprinting to me, dropping to his knees.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me like I'll slip through his fingers.
I nuzzle into his chest, my voice barely a whisper. "I'll be fine."