A/N: Here is the next installment. I hope you like it.

Oh, since I haven’t mentioned this during the last couple of chapters, characters don’t belong to me, I’m just borrowing them. Joss is boss.

When they landed, Inara was quickly whisked outside and a multitude of men descended on her shuttle.

“Don’t worry, none of your things will be damaged in any way,” John assured her.

She didn’t say anything. Her heart was breaking in a million pieces. Her body felt so heavy that she could barely keep herself standing. John looked at her in concern. As if he anticipated what she needed, he motioned for one of the men to bring her a chair.

“Please, sit down, Miss Serra,” John suggested.

Inara sank into the chair. Her tears slid steadily and silently down her cheeks. Her make-up was running, but she didn’t care. She no longer held herself with the confidence of a companion. She was broken.

It didn’t take long for every scrap of Inara’s belongings to be removed from the shuttle. If the events of the day were different, she would have been quite impressed with their efficiency. John knelt down next to her once again.

“I need you to listen very carefully, Miss Serra,” he said softly. His face looked pained. “This is going to be very unpleasant.”

“More than my family dying?”

John didn’t reply to her question, but continued on with his instructions.

“We have told the Alliance that you have been in one of our medical facilities.”

“You said that already.”

“Well the facility you have been reported to be at is called Gardenwell,” John continued. Inara’s head shot up at the mention of the facility.

“That is a psychiatric facility!”

“We have to make sure our story matches with what we told the Alliance. We will be drugging you to make you appear as traumatized as we indicated,” John went on.

He put her hand in his and squeezed it, trying to reassure her. She jerked her hand away and stood up abruptly, only to be restrained by two men standing behin