Page 161 of Hidden

My brow furrowed. “Nat?”

She ignored me, shoving aside old receipts, lip gloss, tangled jewellery, a packet of cigarettes, until eventually she found what she was looking for and pulled it free.

A small, folded packet.

“What is that?”

Natalie looked down at it for a second before lifting her eyes to mine. “Your way out.”

I stared at her.

Then at the packet.

Then back at her.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

She swallowed. “It’s called devil’s breath. I’ve heard the men talk about it,” she continued, her voice low now. “It’s one of those things Nico keeps around because he’s a sick bastard and he likes knowing he has options. They use it to keep people compliant. To make them… vague. Limp. Out of it. Like they’re there, but not really. It’s a zombie drug.”

A cold feeling crept through me.

“And why the fuck would that help me?”

“Because if we do this right,” she said, stepping closer again, “he won’t think you’re escaping.”

My mind caught up a second too late.

Then stopped dead.

Natalie held my gaze. “He’ll think you’re dead.”

For a second, I genuinely thought I had misheard her.

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

She rushed to fill the silence before I could even process it properly. “Listen to me. If you try to run, they’ll catch you. We both know that. He’s got too many men out there, and he’ll be waiting for exactly that. But if he thinks you’re dead, even just long enough for them to move you, long enough for them to stop watching you as closely…”

“I pretend to be dead… And… and he’ll throw my body out,” I said quietly, slowly beginning to understand.

“Exactly,” Natalie said with a sad smile. “He’s not going to waste time planning your funeral. Once you’re gone, you’ll beuseless. And who knows, maybe he’ll do us a favour and take your body to the Devils himself,” she finished, forcing a chuckle at her weak joke.

I stared at her. “What if I don’t wake up?” I asked.

Natalie’s face tightened.

“It’s a risk,” she admitted. “Because we need to give you more than usual. We don’t want you barely here. We want you not here at all. He has to believe you’re dead. Not just sleeping.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Brilliant.”

“I know.”

“No, Natalie, I don’t think you do. I’m asking you what happens if this kills me and your answer is ‘it’s a risk’?”

Her eyes filled immediately, but she didn’t look away. “Then I’ll live with that for the rest of my life,” she said quietly. “But if you stay here, Gabby, I won’t have to. Because hewillkill you. Slowly. And probably your mum too.”

That shut me up.

Because there it was—the brutal, ugly truth of it. There really were no good options left. Just the one least likely to end in all of us dying in this fucking clubhouse.