Before the girl could respond, a high-pitched scratching sound invaded the cell, and Rachel jerked her hands up to cover her ears as, heart pounding, she tried to locate the source of the noise. Her eyes swung to the window in time to see a broken-off branch scratching across the glass as if it were trying to etch a picture into it.

With trembling hands, she pressed both fists tight against her chest, twisting her knuckles into her sternum in an effort to calm her thundering heart. Similarly, the new girl’s hands gripped the light sheet each girl was allotted.

‘I’m Rachel,’ she whispered. But the new girl wasn’t listening. Her eyes had already strayed, so Rachel trained her gaze in the same direction, a low moan escaping her as she did.

Faye’s robe was opened, her body on display. Visible in the barely-there light were fresh cuts sliced into her skin, her left eye was swollen shut, and blood seeped around the crust that had formed around her nose. Rachel shoved her hand against her mouth and swallowed back the nausea. When had that – what had happened?

Faye’s eyes were empty, devoid of even tears, as if her spirit had died and her entire being along with it. Staring at her, Rachel felt her resolve disintegrate. She hadn’t even grasped onto the understanding that she’d been holding onto a tiny beacon of hope in this dark tunnel of her existence until now. Sure, Becca was kinder and gentler, despite what they were all going through, but Faye was a fighter, and that was where the hope had come in.

The new girl’s sobs finally broke through the barrier of Rachel’s numbness. Without realizing she was doing it, she found herself moving over to Faye’s mattress, offering her what strength she had, though it was little. She sensed movement behind her, and turning her head, she saw Becca drawing up next to the new girl, running her hands down the girl’s hair as her broken cries became muffled by Becca’s shoulder. Faye didn’t so much as turn her head in the girl’s direction or acknowledge Rachel’s presence. A shadow fell across the mattress, and Rachel twisted around to see Cheyenne’s hand hovering in the air, as if she wasn’t sure what she should be doing. It was at that moment that Rachel realized Meghan was missing, and she tried to recall the last time she’d seen her.

And then she stopped thinking about anything because the door at the top of the steps clanged open, and all their heads – except for Faye’s – snapped in that direction. One of the men was carting yet another girl down the stairs in a fireman carry while another led the way, gun out, key in hand. God, not another one!

With the cell door opened, the man stepped in and dropped the unconscious girl on the closest mattress before turning around and leaving. Rachel’s stomach churned, and shock slammed into her when she noticed how young this one was. There was no chance this tiny sprite of a thing could ever survive The Toybox and its many instruments of torture.