Taylor's eyes slowly open and she finds herself peering up at the bleak, once white tiles covering the dropped ceiling above. The fiber panels are old, many of them splitting at their corners and some even deteriorating to the point where she can peek into the blackness behind them. Moonlight peers in from the open window, the deep cerulean shade giving the hospital room a slightly less depressing feel. Something she didn't think was possible in this dump.

"Hey."

She turns to the left to see Casey, lifting her head up from her clenched wrist as she was on the verge of dozing off. Dark circles weight in under her tired eyes.

"Hi." Taylor smiles, turning her body to the side so she can face her. "You're still awake?"

"Couldn't sleep." Casey's eyes peer down to Taylor's freshly bandaged hand. When the nurses came in to check the IV fluid, they disinfected the wound and wrapped it in a thick new sheet of gauze. "How's your hand?"

Taylor shrugs her shoulders. "It's better I guess. Still hurts like a bitch." Her head tilts up at she takes a moment to peer around the small room.

Passed out, Riley is stretched out across two chairs he had pulled together. In front of the window, Marc sits up straight in one of the seats with his head aimed at the floor, his open laptop on standby as it rests in his lap. He was probably working on either a newspaper article for the school or homework and, knowing him, Taylor bets on the former.

"Jesse came to pick Kris up and Millie got a ride home from one of the deputies. Cute blonde guy." Casey catches her mind steering off topic. "Apparently her dad is really strict about her being back home before curfew."

"With good reason." Taylor remarks, sitting further up to scan the other side of the room. The door to the hallway is cracked open and she can hear the faint sound of a nurse passing by, the soles of her sneakers squeaking on the terrazzo floor with each step. "Where's Morgan?"

"He went to drop Paige off, remember?"

"He's still gone?" Taylor's face grows worried. "What time is it?"

"I think sometimes you forget you're the younger sibling." Without glancing at the clock, she answers her. She must have been keeping track of the time. "It's a little after eleven."

Taylor reaches over with her right hand to fish for her phone on the nightstand. She quickly retracts her hand, wincing at the pain in her palm.

Smiling, Casey reaches over to lightly squeeze Taylor's leg. "Hey. Don't worry, if he doesn't come back soon I'll give him a call and see where he's at."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Casey glances over at Riley, still out cold, before turning back to Taylor. "So, they said you're going to be released tomorrow and I was thinking that you should come stay at my house. My parents are out of town so it would just be me, you, Peyton and Riley."

"So a girl's night?" Taylor says jokingly. The two giggle, their immature sides always bound to come out when they're together. "I already told Marc I was going to stay at his place. But thank you."

"Oh." A disappointed frown settles into Casey's face. A couple of seconds later her eyes light up, intrigued by the new subject. She lifts an eyebrow. "Wait. You and Marc?"

Taylor glances off to the side, not saying any more.

"Oh my god, you two are getting back together!" Casey squeaks excitedly and covers her mouth as she notices her tone and glances over at the two guys still sound asleep. She turns back to Taylor, her voice lowered to a still-loud whisper. "I knew it was just a matter of time!"

"We're just..." Taylor stops to think of the right word. "Reconnecting."

Casey can't hold back her smirk. "Uh huh. Is that what kids are calling it nowadays?"

"Oh shut up!" Taylor laughs, using her good hand to grab one of the many pillows behind her head and swings it over to lightly smack it at Casey's face.

Gasping, Casey snatches the pillow from her and hits her back.

"Hey, not fair." Taylor blocks the next swing with her arms. "I'm in recovery!"

"True." Casey drops the pillow to the bed and sticks out her tongue. "But wait 'til you get out. I'm gonna send your ass right back!"

Taylor quickly pulls the pillow back up and this time swings are her repeatedly, the two girls laughing playfully as Casey fights her off.

Filling up the short driveway and gathered along both sides of the street near the Walker's residence are several police cars, a sight Morgan is all too familiar with by this point. He stands near the trunk of one of the squad cars, Paige leaning against his shoulder. Abstracted by her surroundings, her dull eyes stare at an ambulance pulled up to the curb near the Walker's mailbox. Just minutes ago two paramedics wheeled out a gurney, Kira's body zipped up under a cold leather sheet, and loaded it inside the vehicle.

Near the front of the small yard, Sheriff Martinez attempts to calm Kira's distraught parents, who cry unbelievably at the fact that their daughter was just slaughtered while they were asleep. He signals Deputy Bennett to come over and assigns him to ask them a few more questions before turning around to approach Morgan and Paige.

Watching as he cuts through the yard over to the driveway, Morgan sighs as he hopes that this isn't another round of the blame game.

"Ms. Turner, we tried calling your mother again but we still couldn't get a hold of her." Martinez says, more sympathy in his voice than usual. He had a close relationship to the Walkers and even bonded with Kira whenever she volunteered for community service down at the station one year. Seeing her on a daily basis, she became like a daughter figure to him.

"Yeah, good luck with that." She says, not looking at him as she continues to stare at the ambulance. It pulls out from the curb as its red and white lights flicker on, flashing as the vehicle makes its way down the street.

His eyes gaze over to Morgan, making sure the question is directed at both of them. "So, are you sure that you can't think of any reason whatsoever why this person would be targeting you?"

As the ambulance slips out of sight, she turns around to look at Martinez. Her face reads nothing but guilt. She looks down to see there is still some blood dabbed on the backside of her palm and she quickly wipes it against her pant leg.

"Judging by the text, it looks as if the person who lured you out here may feel some kind of personal vendetta against you."

She glares over at Morgan, her heartbeat racing as she seriously contemplates on whether or not to tell Martinez the truth. Morgan watches her worriedly, already knowing how Paige can act upon impulse. Especially in difficult situations. She turns back to Martinez and shakes her head.

"Are you sure?" Martinez persists, sensing that there is something she's not telling him. "If I can find a connection then I can find the murderer."

"No. I can't think of any reason why someone would do this." Her voice is monotone and forced. It's as if Morgan's hand was dug into her lower back and he was using his fingers to tug at the veins surrounding her spine, controlling her like a puppet.

Martinez nods, still not convinced. "We're going to have to take you in to the precinct to get a full statement. It's protocol. Shouldn't take more than an hour or so."

"Okay."

"Can I go with her?" Morgan asks as he steps forward, although deep down he really doesn't want to go back to the place he was just released from.

Paige looks over at him, unsure of his true intentions. She can't tell whether he wants to be there to support her as a friend or if he wants to keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't say too much. Perhaps a mixture of both?

Seeing the rare sight of Morgan actually caring for somebody other than himself, and already feeling guilty for detaining him the previous night, Martinez can't find it in himself to say no. He nods. "Sure. Follow me."

Morgan places his hand gently on Paige's shoulder and smiles, an attempt to comfort her, as they turn to follow Martinez to his car. She looks back at the side of the house, watching as the yellow caution tape blows in the wind and forensic investigators go in and out of Kira's room. A bright light flashes on the lawn through the open door as they take pictures of the crime scene, reminding Paige of Taylor and her photography.

Then she remembers the visit Taylor paid her after they found Julia's body. When, before Paige slammed the door shut in her face, she said one last sentence to Taylor. Inside her head, her own voice echoes as the words haunt her mind.

"That blood is on your hands."

♫ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪs ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ / ɪ ᴀᴍ sᴛʀɪᴋᴇs ♫