How can they do this? How can they stand here on either side of me and say this without even sounding sorry? There’s nothing normal about any of this, not a single thing, but the way they make it sound, it’s inevitable. Like it was always going to be this way, and I’m only finding out about it now. Is this how it always is around here? What the hell has my mother got me into? And would she even believe me if I tried to tell her?

My heart aches when I consider that question, mostly because I already know the answer. Unless she were to see it with her own eyes, she would never believe this because she wouldn’t want to. Who would? No, this is it. This is my life now, and I have no say over it at all. All I will ever be able to do is dread the next time it happens and hope I can get through it. That’s all. That’s as much as I can look forward to now.

Nix takes me by the arm and pulls me to my feet. “I’ll take you to your room.” Sure, because I’ll have to stay in my cell, won’t I? Unless I’m wanted. My chin quivers, but I won’t give them the satisfaction of crying in front of them. I’ll wait until I’m alone, in my room, and then I’ll let it out. But not now.

Between the way I was already feeling after last night and the events of the past couple of hours, I’m almost limp with exhaustion. Wiped out, body and soul. My feet are heavy as I climb the stairs to the first floor, then again as we continue up to my room. Nix doesn’t say a word, walking silently beside me, then escorting me down the hall. It isn’t until we’re halfway to my room that I notice a high-pitched, squealing sort of noise. I identify it as a drill a moment before coming to my open bedroom door and finding James attaching screws to my windows.

He holds the drill in his hand as he turns, wearing an easy smile. “Can’t keep you too safe, can we?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead fixing the last screw in place. He tests the window and nods, satisfied. “There. All done. Wouldn’t want you falling out of the window one night, would we?”

I don’t even care. I can’t muster up the energy to think, much less look toward a future where I’m locked in this room with no chance of getting out unless one of them decides they want to play. At least he leaves the room, but Nix stays, following me to my bed. I crawl in, not even bothering to get changed before curling into a ball.