Instead of white like all of the others, it’s red. But there is a white lily lying on the floor.

6

A white lily. The flower that symbolizes death. My grandmother is super traditional and only wanted white lilies at my grandpa’s funeral.

They are just trying to freak me out.

I gasp, my heart beating so wildly I have to press my chest to relieve some of the pressure. Is this another test? Part of the game they’re playing? How is this even a game?

“Grab a damn bag, Hazel. Let’s go.”

I reach out and swipe a bag marked S off the peg.

“Piper, no.”

“Take a bag and come on! I want to get this over with.”

Without any thought, because I’d probably only get a headache if I think too much about what is going on, I stomp to the red door.

Hazel sobs. I hear the cord of a bag rub against the metal peg as she hurries after me. Slinging my own bag over my shoulder, I reach for the door handle.

“Shouldn’t we look in these first?” she asks.

Grabbing the door handle, I twist and push. “What’s the point?” The bag is light and soft, likely holding some sort of clothing. I don’t care what its contents are right now, I just want to keep going. I don’t know how many rooms are in this building, but the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish. And we both want to go home.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness of the next room, I grab Hazel’s hand. It’s not pitch-black like before, but the only lighting is a dim band of LEDs on the floor. It frames the large room but gives no clues to what is actually in here.

“What now, huh?” I shout. They’ll be listening. This whole thing is one big game to these bored, rich college students.

They’re sick.

“Would you like the light on, Piper?” Caleb asks through the speaker. His voice is soft and musical.

His voice startles me. It’s not a recording. Sweat beads out on my forehead.

“Don’t talk to them!” Hazel whisper-shouts.

“Piper?” he sings my voice. “Would you like the light on, sweetheart?”

I swallow hard. His amusement at our situation turns my stomach. But we don’t have an option. I have to converse with him.

“Yes!” I snap, glaring at the corners of the room. It’s too dark to see where the speakers are, so my eyes follow the faintly illuminated perimeter of the room. The intercoms and cameras must be up there somewhere.

Caleb laughs. “Ask nicely.”

Ask nicely? Is he serious?

Gritting my teeth, I seethe, “Please turn on the lights.”

Light floods the room.