"It's not Abby's fault!"

You know you've said the wrong thing the moment the words fall off your lips, plummeting as Samantha stares in shock. You feel that nagging feeling that wouldn't let you denounce her swell as you shout, "And she doesn't belong in quarantine either! She is brave, and smart, and okay definitely a hard person to trust, but trust's a two way street and I've been going the wrong way down a one way street with her the whole time. You have to give her a second chance! She just needs someone that will love her at her like totes worst and her bewitching best! I can do that now! I can see people clearer than ever! She's not the one it's dangerous to trust! You are!"

Samantha's face goes from stunned to serious to severely pissed off as you continue your tirade. Then, as if it's as simple as the snap of her fingers, she beams brightly and says, "Exactly right! I was a Predatory Infector, a Victim Vixen, and a Super Spreader long before I had an institute named after me. I can see the goodness in anyone, and that's a dangerous thing. For me, and anyone else I set my sights on. See, my idea of good isn't always right. We can kill people trying to exorcise demons that are angels to them. I had to learn that the hard way, and so did you unfortunately."

It is your turn to sit in stunned silence now. Samantha reaches over and frees your wrist as you struggle to process what is happening, "Aww, I'm sorry. I get a love of plot twists from my mom. See, it can be very difficult to predict who will be a major point of infection for the unwilling or unprepared, and it puts countless lives as risk to let the old patterns play out with no safety net. Think of quarantine as set of hidden tests hidden in a high school from Hell. I mean, did you really think we didn't know the place was overrun with bullies and sociopaths and 'innocent' victims? We have to give students the space and time to grow, at least enough so they can benefit from more open interventions when they're ready. That's where students like Abby come in."

Just then, Abigail comes in, right on cue. You shoot her a dirty look, but it disappears when she smiles genuinely at you. It's dazzling, you are dazed as she sits next to you and takes your hands in hers. You look deep into her eyes, trying to see if you can find any more facets hidden in there. Abby blushes, suddenly bashful as she says, "Stop! It's still me, Amy. I'm glad you finally saw me. I was so worried I scared you off. I thought you were ready for the party at The Studded Belt. I'm sorry. Oh...and I'm sorry I didn't tell you I kind of sort of work here now."

Your eyes dart between Samantha and Abby, hoping one of them will explain what's going on, but then it hits you. "You didn't need help! You took the assessment and they realized you were perfect...uhm...perfectly well adjusted." You blush as you realize your crush is showing. "So, they put you in undercover to keep an eye on me? Am I really that dangerous?" You feel a stab of shame that you caused so much trouble for so many people.

Samantha jumps in, squeezing your shoulder again and saying soothingly, "Actually she was here for Poppy. I hoped I missed the good in her, and that Abigail would find something I missed, but she's one of the rare ones we can't help. We actually didn't have time to come up with a degree plan for you. We were more concerned with the girls you infected, to be honest. We figured once you saw them graduate, you'd begin to develop on your own. But you just kept helping them reach their milestones before we knew it. We had to adapt on the fly. No one thought you'd be ready so soon. I mean, you took the blame for a breakout. I hate to say it, but we all thought you would let Abby take the fall."

Abby squeezes your hand tighter and says, "I didn't. I was wrong about you being ready to let your hair down in a safe environment and be able to intuit who you can trust in time, but I knew I could trust you not to hurt me, even if you couldn't understand why. Seriously, from one professional fuck up to another, I am in awe of you. You just keep fuuuuucking up, and you never give up. Seriously, you are a ride or die bitch and we are going to be at the very least, best fuck buddies 4 lyfe if I have anything to say 'bout it." You squeeze her hand back even harder and smile. She's clearly crazy, but maybe just crazy enough to work.

Samantha says, "You two amaze me. And I've seen some shit. One day remind me to tell you about the armed insurrection I...but for now, let me congratulate Ms. Archer on graduating to our open campus." She sits back smiling so wide and warm it makes your heart hurt. You welcome the pang of pain. You welcome the burning blush of embarrassment for having fucked up your way into some kind of happy ending. You would rather feel the sting of humiliation and the ache of love and lust and crushes and every ardor in between than to close up and close off your heart any longer. You finally feel strong and smart enough to walk around with a heart that's wide open, and if you fuck up, and you are pretty sure you will, you know you will have a lot of girlfriends you can trust to watch your back...