We exit the bathroom. Theo, Kevin, and Priya sit on the sofas arranged in a square, facing inward. Lucie is pacing in the middle, chewing on her fingernail. She stops and looks up as we walk toward them.

Hazel and I sit opposite the three and wait to see what Lucie does. She sits next to Priya, staring at me with a fiery expression. I can tell she wants to ask about what’s happening outside, if people are looking for her, if her family is frantic with worry.

I don’t want to tell her the truth: They all think she took off. Other than her mom’s initial Facebook plea and a few posts from her friends wishing her well and asking her to keep in contact, no one seems to be looking for her because it seems as if Caleb and his friends packed some of her things to cover their tracks.

Our dead-end town is perfect for people like Caleb.

Ignoring Lucie as best I can, I ask Theo, “What do they want with us?”

“Control. Fear. We’re pawns in a sick game to them.”

“Pawns? How?”

He licks his lips. “Who will mentally survive rooms one to five.” He takes a ragged breath. “And who will physically survive room zero.”

8

“Physically?” I repeat.

I don’t get it. My mind rejects his words and their meaning every time I try to put them together.

They want to see who will physically survive room zero.

They kill people in that room?

“I don’t…” Hazel is trying to make sense of it, too, but like me, she’s coming up blank.

Theo shifts in his seat. “We knew someone was coming.”

“What?”

Kevin claps him on the shoulder. “Last week, Sophie…died. They always find a replacement. It’s a surprise that two of you turned up. I don’t think there has ever been a double abduction.”

He’s calling it an abduction. Oh God. He’s right. Even though we got into the car willingly, we were abducted.

I close my eyes and rub my forehead. Hazel and I were abducted.

“What happened to her?” I ask, nausea washing over me in big tidal waves.

“She didn’t have a choice,” Kevin says defensively.

I’m certain I don’t want the answer, but I have to ask: “Sophie didn’t?”

“Priya didn’t.”

Hazel grips my wrist, squeezing hard.

My gaze flicks to Priya. Her head is hung low, black hair falling in her face like a cloak. “I didn’t want… We had to f-fight. I didn’t want to.”

“It’s okay,” Theo soothes. “Sophie’s blood is on their hands, not yours.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. They make kids fight to the death?

“This isn’t real,” Hazel mumbles.

The thought of ending someone’s life is abhorrent. “I can’t do that. I can’t,” I protest.