One by one, they go black. Then static. Then they flash back on, but the feeds are scrambled now, jumping between cameras, glitching out.
Lionetti shoots to his feet.
"What the fuck is going on?" he barks, slamming his hand on the desk. "Get this shit under control!"
Jenna looks up, eyes wide. "Dad—"
"NOW!"
One of the guard’s steps forward, speaking into a radio. "We're on it, sir. Looks like a system malfunction—"
"I don't give a fuck what it looks like. FIX IT."
Izzy doesn't move. Doesn't even blink. He just stares at Jenna, his expression blank.
The guards start moving.
Fast.
They grab us—me, Christina, the others—and start dragging us toward a door at the back of the room.
"No—wait—" I try to twist away, but my legs won't cooperate. The drugs are still in my system, making everything sluggish and heavy.
They shove us through the door and into a smaller room. Concrete walls. No windows. A single flickering light overhead.
The door slams shut behind us.
The lock clicks.
And then—
Chaos.
The girls start crying. The boys are shouting. Someone is pounding on the door, screaming to be let out.
I force myself to move.
I crawl across the floor, wrists still tied, dragging myself toward Christina.
"Hey," I say, my voice hoarse. "Hey, it's okay. Everyone, listen to me. It's going to be okay."
No one listens.
I reach Christina and grab her face with my bound hands, forcing her to look at me.
"Christina. It's Becca. Look at me."
Her eyes flutter. Focus. Just barely.
"Becca?" shewhispers.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me. You're okay. I'm here."
"What—what's going on? Where are we? Where's David?"
Her voice cracks on his name, and my chest tightens.
"I don't know," I tell her. "But I'm going to figure it out. I promise. What do you remember? How did you get here?"
