I snap my mouth closed as he straightens, scrabbling back until my back bangs into the metal bedframe and wrapping my arms around my knees.
He smooths a hand over his gold tie. “A little more time is needed, I think. And given that you are healing, it’s only fair that we resume your original arrangements. Visiting will be limited to an hour per day, so you can focus on getting better.”
My face crumples. “But—,”
“Don’t worry,” he says easily. “We’ll try this again. Perhaps next month.”
A month. Another month in this room, beneath this light. And I have no doubt that Parker will find a way to keep me here longer.
No windows. No air.
Another cage.
No. I can’t.
I can’t.
“Please,” I sob the word. “I want to go home.”
I want them.
Theo
Wewaitinfrontof the mirror.
“I hate this thing,” Max mutters. “And where’s Abrams? They said they’d told him.”
“It’s not for long,” Oscar says shortly. But he’s leaning forward, his brow knotted behind his glasses. “Kenny gets through this, and we’re done.”
Done with this place. Fuck, that’s a nice thought. Kenny, at home with us. Safe, and warm, and happy.
So we wait. The seconds stretch out.
“They should have turned it on by now.” My voice is tight. “What’s going on?”
“Hey!” Jake looks up at the camera in the corner. Waves his hand and points. “Switch it on.”
Nothing. Our faces stare back, expressions shifting into worry.
My chest tightens. Squeezes. “Something is… wrong. With Kenny.”
They all turn to look at me as I grit out the words. My palms rub against my chest, trying to soothe it. But I can’t. Not when it’s one-sided.
But I can feel it. Feel the fear that creeps in, grows. “We need to get in there. She’s panicking.”
Oscar vanishes, disappearing around the corner. Jake and Max exchange looks, moving around out of my line of sight and banging on the door to her room.
I move to the slot, jab the code in with shaking fingers.
Nothing. Only a red, flashing light. They even changed the fucking code.
They locked us out. Split us up. Separated us from her.
My fingers press into the glass. “Come on, baby. We’re here, Ken.”
But the pain, the worry, it creeps higher. Until my own breathing is harsh and jagged, my fingers curled against the wall that separates us.
I slam my hand into it as Oscar’s footsteps pound down the hall. “I got them to pull up the cameras, but they’re switched off.”
