“Are you all okay?” I shout.

I close my eyes to focus. When I hear them all reply, I sigh in relief. What are Caleb and his friends doing? Loud music and no light.

Can they see us? I would imagine they would be able to. They will have night-vision cameras, surely.

I lay my head on Evan’s shoulder, my stomach churning and nerves frayed. What if they come in here while we’re all sitting in the dark? They could do anything.

I wince as the volume is turned up. My ears ringing and throat clenching every time the bass kicks in.

This is why I don’t like this music!

Evan squeezes my hand harder and runs his thumb over my knuckles. He’s trying to distract me, to tell me he’s here and I’m not alone. I appreciate it so much, but I don’t know how I can ignore the blistering sound of that music or the way it makes me feel sick.

You’re fine. Keep calm. Go somewhere else.

This isn’t supposed to happen in here. They do mess with us, but they don’t hurt us in this room, not directly anyway.

Why are they doing this now?

“Everyone okay?” Evan shouts. I can barely hear him over the music now, and he’s sitting right beside me.

Rather than screaming back and hurting my throat, I nod against his shoulder. I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse by now. At least here, we’re all together. We’re not doing this in solitary.

Then, the music stops, and the lights flick on. I blink my eyes open and lift my head off Evan. Hazel and Priya are huddled together, their heads buried in the cushions, and Lucie is in Theo’s arms. They all sit up and look over.

“Why?” Priya asks.

No one has an answer.

“Do you think they’ll do that again?” Lucie’s wide eyes are full of fear and rimmed with unshed tears.

I know what she’s thinking: There could be no breaks. It could be room after room, only to come back here and face new tortures.

They’re getting worse.

“I’m going to get us something to drink.” Priya stands and heads to the kitchen area.

I give her a sympathetic smile as she walks past me. She needs to be doing something productive again.

I do, too, but I’m not exactly sure what that is in this moment. My heart is still racing at the thought of this being a regular thing. We’re no longer pawns in their games in the torture rooms, but we’re also players in here.

No escape. No hope.

That’s what they’re trying to do. They want to take everything from us, prove who holds all the cards.