“What?” Russ asks carefully from the front seat.
I stare blindly at the storm outside.
“The red room.”
My voice barely works now.
“They took the children who died there first.”
Gabriel closes his eyes briefly.
Like he remembers too.
No.
Worse.
Like he never forgot.
“They made us stand on the names,” I whisper.
The horror in the SUV becomes almost physical.
Mason mutters,
“Jesus Christ…”
Clay’s arm slides around my shoulders immediately, pulling me against him before I completely unravel.
I go willingly.
No fight left.
Not tonight.
Because every memory coming back feels like another piece of my soul getting ripped open.
Gabriel’s voice turns rough.
“It was punishment conditioning.”
I look at him sharply.
“You remember.”
His jaw tightens.
“Most of it, I never forgot.”
Pain flashes across his face.
“I was older. They couldn’t wipe me as clean as they wiped you.”
That sentence destroys something inside me.
Wiped.
Like a hard drive.
