I raise my hand to my chest and feel the covering over my cuts. And bandaged me. I want to ask who she is and why she is here, but I have the feeling that whatever K Diamond wants from me, it has to do with her. The den is clean, no sign of the struggles the last sixteen days have endured when it was filled with four of us. It’s not until I shift around the bed that I notice he has moved me to a separate igloo, one away from the last. Not much difference in this one, except there are latches on the bed, LED lights lining some appliances, and a large box at the foot of the bed.

“You are awake.” K Diamond’s voice comes through the box. “I’m sorry to do this to you, Wicked, and you have to know that you and I have no issues. Whatever you have going on with my brother is between you and him. So I give you this…” My shoulders rise and fall as I take in deep breaths. He couldn’t possibly give me anything. He has taken too much already. “You do this. Give me six more days in here and I will give you the location of Skully once I see fit.”

I want to talk. I want to yell and call him every fucking curse word, but the anger I feel bubbling inside of me is stuck in my throat. I can’t even find the energy to address his bullshit.

“The girl who is looking back at you is in need of your service. I studied the video between you and La Rosa, and now this one needs you. Do you agree? And then I will let you free.”

I stare back at the green eyes through the glossy leather bunny mask, before going back to the camera. “Yeah.”

I give him six extra days, and the girl with the bunny mask hasn’t come back. My soul scratches against the areas inside of me that it knows it can use as an escape. I stay lying on my back, watching as the crescent moon slowly fazes past me and hides behind the thick trees. I don’t think about Poppy anymore. Blocking her name and face out of my memory because it burns too much to have it there.

I shoot to my feet when the door unlatches by itself, opening wide onto the outside. I haven’t felt fresh air touch my skin for days upon days. I don’t even know how many have passed now. Looking down onto my arm, I stare blankly at the cuts sliced into my skin, as if I’ve tried to scribble out the days I have kept track of.

“You’re free, Wicked.”