Priya and Lucie curl into each other, hunching their backs and pressing their arms together. Kevin’s jaw clenches so hard I’m surprised his teeth don’t snap. And Hazel, well, her eyes are round like saucers and staring off into the distance as if she’s been possessed.

“Three?”

“Light. It starts dark, so dark that you can’t see your own hand right in front of your face. Then it’s like you’re staring at the sun.” He closes his eyes. “It gives you the worst headache.”

My hand clutches my throat. How am I going to survive that?

“Four is sleep deprivation.”

“That one doesn’t sound as bad,” I muse. Sleep isn’t something that I’ve needed much of, never has been, and it’s something my parents told me tested their patience when I was younger. I usually fall asleep around one in the morning and wake up at five.

He shakes his head. “It’s killer, Piper. They put you in for days. The lighting is dull; it’s warm and comfortable. But they use methods from the other rooms to keep you awake.”

My body temperature dips dramatically, and I shiver.

“Five?” I ask quickly, needing to move on. “You mentioned something about water?”

His head dips, and he grips his neck. “You’re strapped to a bed, and they place a cloth over your face…”

I know where this is going so I hold up my hand. “Enough.”

His eyes raise. “It’s the only room where they’re present, too. Caleb, mostly. He loves that room.”

“Piper, we can’t,” Hazel says. “This can’t be real. I can’t go into those rooms. I can’t make it through those things! They can’t do that to us!”

Except there’s no one here to stop them. They’re in control.

I clear my throat, threading my fingers together. “So, what else can we expect?”

Theo raises an eyebrow. “That isn’t enough?”

“More than enough, but I don’t want to be caught off guard. Theo, please.”

“This room is where we spend most of the time. Through the archway behind you is a kitchen. The two doors next to that lead to a bedroom and bathroom.”

I turn up my nose. “One bedroom?”

He smirks. “Everything I’ve just told you, and you most react to sharing a bedroom?”

I used to share a room with my sister. Her empty bed is still there. There’s a new cover on it, for guests apparently, but only Hazel sleeps over, and although neither of us have had a conversation about the bed, she sleeps in mine with me.

I swallow the stab of pain my sister’s memory brings. “I’m trying not to think of all the other stuff.”

“Bunk beds. Kevin snores, but if you throw something at him, he’ll stop.”

Kevin gives Theo the finger.