The city outside the main building was just as dark, still, and lifeless as it had been before. There was a chill in the stale air that reflected the defeated feeling of those who were left. The sky was its usual midnight display, the stars being the only features left that glowed.
Cleo felt numb, barely feeling her feet on the floor as she exited through the front door of the lobby in search of her mentor, her dance partner, and her friend. The trust they had built was wavering, in desperate need of reassurance.
Remie was sitting with her back to Cleo on the front steps of the building. The wooden railing beside her was splintered, broken pieces lying scattered on the ground. That explained the crashing sounds Cleo's friends had warned her about just before. It seemed Remie had fled outside to take her anger out on the innocent wood.
Cleo sat on the step next to Remie, leaving a gap of space between them. She stared straight ahead, each of them silent in their own thoughts. Cleo rubbed her hands together absentmindedly, wincing as she discovered the bruises beginning to form around her wrists.
Beside her, Remie's hair cascaded down her shoulders like a protective shawl, shielding her from the world and its horrors. Her breaths were deep and forceful as she sat seething and fuming. Cleo could barely believe this barely-contained person was the same one she knew. The same positive and collected one she had gotten to know over the last week. The same person that patiently trained her, that answered her questions, that saved her, believed in her, helped her. The same charming person who danced with her.
"I can't believe I so stupid."
They were the first words to come out of Remie's mouth in a long time. They were whispered, placed carefully in the air like they were the ultimate truth.
Cleo looked at her, but the gesture wasn't reciprocated. Cleo could barely form her words correctly. How, after all this, could she possibly think it was anywhere close to her fault?
"What are you talking about?" she managed.
Remie jumped to her feet in a flurry, tossing her bright hair out of her face. Her fists were clenched, her tone reproachful. "Over a year, Cleo. A year and a half! And only now do we find out our whole..." She faltered, not able to articulate her frustration. Her eyes scanned the city, her refuge, her home, searching for something she wanted so desperately. She sat down hard onto the stone steps again, defeated.
"We were the bad guys."
Her words hit Cleo like a punch to the gut. The guilt festering in her stomach bubbled over and filled her entirely.
"We couldn't have known," Cleo whispered, trying to reassure herself just as much as Remie.
Remie shook her head in a daze, still avoiding looking at Cleo. "We trusted her. We all did. And we were so wrong. So, so wrong."
Cleo fell silent. Nothing she could say would help. So they sat in silence.