I scanned the room again, slower this time.
I mapped it in my head the way Cap and Ranger had taught me.
Corners.
Angles.
Blind spots.
Nothing here was accidental. Not the lack of windows. Not the way the light only covered the center of the room. Not the placement of the drain, which was far enough away that you’d have to move to reach it.
Movement meant exposure.
Exposure meant consequences.
Concrete floors. Cinderblock walls. No windows. Only one door that was metal, with a bar lock on the outside. No food, no water. Just a single drain near the far corner, and a long rust stain running from it like it had been used for more than plumbing.
There were stains on the wall, too. Smears. Like someone had been dragged.
Hailey followed my gaze and shivered.
“It’s just us for now,” she whispered. “But they come in sometimes. Not to talk. Just to… look.”
She didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask. My stomach was already twisting.
I shifted my hands again, testing the zip ties. Too tight to slip. But the longer I sat, the more the plastic would warm, the more I’d sweat, the hopefully more give I might get. I’d watched Brutus demonstrate that very trick during a training exercise. He’d said, “Your body is always a tool. You just gotta know how to use it.”
And if I was lucky, whoever tied these had gotten sloppy.
I looked at Hailey. “Have they touched you?”
I watched her closely as she answered. Not just her words. But her shoulders, her hands, the way her breath hitched before she spoke.
Trauma had patterns.
So did lies.
Her eyes widened, and her shoulders curled in.
“No,” she said quickly. “No, not like that. Just… moved me. Tied me up. Made sure I couldn’t run.”
“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “That’s good. That’s something.”
She looked at me like she wanted to believe I had a plan.
So I gave her one.
Hope wasn’t comfort.
Hope was structure.
And right now, we both needed something solid to hold onto.
“They’re gonna come back,” I said quietly. “And when they do, I need you to be ready. Watch everything. Where they look. Where they step. What they’re carrying. And if they talk, remember what they say. You don’t have to understand it now. Just hold onto it.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“Because we’re not staying here,” I said. “And every detail you remember gets us one step closer to getting the hell out.”
