Failure.

No one cares about you.

You’ll be left here.

It’s been hours since the guards dragged me out of the cafeteria. They took me to see Warden Davis, but he wasn’t in his office, so they tossed me in solitary to wait. By now, I’m convinced that I’ve been forgotten entirely. The clock in the hallway is ticking so slowly that I barely believe time is passing.

We’ve been left here.

You’ll be left here to die.

I wonder sometimes what it would look like if the people who run Hope gave up on us completely. They wouldn’t actually kill us, I don’t think. It would be an inconvenience to deal with all that paperwork. But some days, the worst days, when it feels like I’m only a hollow shell of anger, it’s almost a comfort to think that they might be accidentally negligent. That they might forget about us.

On those days, it would be a relief.

Not today. Pacing around the solitary room, I remember all too well what it’s like to spend a night in here. What it feels like to have my hands tied to the bed frame, unable to scratch and stretch and sleep. I don’t want to be given another night like that for “acting up,” but I don’t know what I can do now to escape it. It’ll be my ninth time in solitary this year, including two forty-eight-hour cooldown periods. Every time I come out, I feel a bit less like me, a bit less like a girl with dreams bigger than this place.

“Grace.” A voice from near the door.

Fuck.

I freeze and glance around me. I’ve only been pacing here. I didn’t leave a mark or destroy anything. They can only punish me for running my mouth.

“Grace.” The voice grows more insistent. “Are you in here?”

The guards wouldn’t ask me that, and though my heart still hammers out of control, I hesitate.

“Who’s there?” I keep my voice as low as possible.

“It’s me.”

I roll my eyes at that, like I can see straight through the heavy door. But the answer tells me everything I need to know regardless, because there’s only one person here who would pull a stunt like this.

I sit next to the door and pull my knees up to my chest. I imagine what he looks like on the other side of it. “What the fuck are you doing here, Casey? Are you trying to get us both in trouble?” I mentally go through the day’s schedule. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Mrs. Vance left early. And I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I open my eyes wide, distracted despite myself. “Mrs. Punctuality-Is-the-Key-to-Happiness left early?”

“I think she got abducted by aliens,” he says, somberly. “It’s the only logical conclusion.”

I snort. “Aliens?”

“Chest-bursters or face-huggers. Maybe we’re all about to be eaten by giant squirrels.” There’s a smile in his voice, and I feel the corners of my mouth quirk up in response.