“Where?” he whispered.
Neither of us answered.
“No,” he said again, quieter now. “No, what room?”
“Well, it’s… It’s a secure room,” Ben said gently, because Ben had always been better at making horrible things sound less horrible.
Cove started struggling again. “No. No, no, no—Tobias, don’t. Please.”
I adjusted my hold before he could twist too far, my jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. “It will only be until you calm down.”
That was not entirely true.
It was not entirely false either.
“I’m calm,” he said instantly, sobbing through the words. “I’m calm. I’m calm, okay? Look, I’m calm. Please.”
He was not calm. He was terrified enough to lie badly.
I turned toward the aquarium wing, every step feeling like a betrayal.
Cove trembled in my arms and whispered pleas into my shirt as we carried him into the place that was once his safe place. Cove noticed the direction we were heading and began shaking harder.
“Not there,” he begged. “P-please.”
I nearly stopped, feeling like I was going to be sick.
“We’re not going back there,” Ben said, looking back at me.
After another minute or two, we arrived at one of the locked doors that Cove had never been allowed to open. There were several in the house, practical spaces hidden behind seamless panels and matte-black security readers. Some had different purposes. This one…
Ben tapped his clearance to the panel, unlocking the heavy door and stepping inside the small windowless room.
It was not a cell, technically, though the distinction felt insulting the moment I thought it. The floor was sealed concrete with a drain at the center. The walls were smooth and unadorned. A narrow cot had been folded against one side, along with emergency blankets sealed in plastic. The lighting was recessed behind reinforced covers, bright enough for visibility, but too cold for comfort.
I had never intended for Cove to see it.
Certainly not from my arms.
Certainly not like this.
Cove stopped pleading when he saw the room.
“Tobias,” Ben said quietly.
I did not move. I simply stood there with Cove bound and trembling against me, staring into a room I had once considered practical and now found obscene.
“Tobias, this is the safest place for him right now.”
I knew he was right, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.
The room seemed to swallow Cove the moment we crossed the threshold. I lowered him onto the cot myself, not the floor,ignoring the way he flinched when my hands shifted beneath him. Ben moved closer, ready to help, but I shot him a look to stop him.
I would do this part.
Cove lay on his side at first, wrists bound in front of him, ankles tied, his hair falling across his face. His eyes were open, but he would not look at me.
That was fair.
