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"I can't," I whisper back, but she pulls me to her again, harder this time. Holding me in place.

"Now."

She shoves me away, forcing me back. I turn quickly. The gate, it's open.

John has his back turned away from me, he wouldn't know. But I would. I'd be leaving them behind, leaving them to be touched, to be tortured. I can't.

But what if I make it out? What if somehow, I find a way to escape? I could save them, save us all.

I swallow, leaning closer. Everything inside me burns as adrenaline begins to course through my blood. "I'll come back for you, Jade. I'll come back for you both. You just have to survive."

A single tear falls down her cheek, her eyes glassy as she stares into mine. I see her fear, her loss, her grief—but somewhere behind the fog of tears that's building, I see her hope.

"No matter what, Jade."

She doesn't speak; she can't. Her chest is moving so fast for a second, I fear her heart will give in. She slowly lifts her arm, bruises scattered all over her skin. She holds out her pinky, trembling, and waits for me to make the promise.

I lace my own around hers as she squeezes tight.

"No matter what," I repeat, meaning every single damn word.

She nods, pulling away. I turn, hands balled into fists as I risk a glance at Annabelle who's staring with wide eyes and mouth slightly parted.

You've got this. You can do this. My feet take off into a sprint, my lungs filling with air as I shove myself out of the cell, the gate smashing against the stone wall.

"No, don't!" John's voice is loud as I shove past him. I turn and grab the stool and launch it at him, causing him to stumble. I don't stop. My feet don't let me. I run past, heart beating in my ears as I flee up the stairs, slamming the door closed behind me.

The light above is harsh on my eyes, the hallway quieter than usual. I begin to move quickly, tucking myself into every alcove, every small spot I can find. I should have paid more attention during the tour—each door, each corridor all looks the same. I don't know where to go.

I can hear John behind me, calling my name. The sound of staff crowding together beside the basement doors has their voices moulding into one. I take off, running through a hallway, all the paintings watching as I dart past. I don't look back.

What the hell have I done? I shouldn't have run. Maybe I could turn back. Maybe if I tell them I'm sorry, they'll forgive me.

My feet move so fast I almost tumble, my hand gripping the handle of the door that steadies me. This is the only chance I'll get. He'll never let me go. He said it—I'll never save the girls, I'll never find Rosa. If they find me now, he'll kill me, too, just like Hailee.

I push open the door, the air suddenly more suffocating as I step inside. My hand roams the wall, searching for a light switch as I'm engulfed in darkness.

I finally find the light, my fingers trembling and hands sweating as I flip the switch. I turn, taking a slow step further into the room as the lights overhead begin popping on one by one to reveal what looks like an old ballet studio.

My hands shake as I trail my fingers along a barre, the walls filled with filthy mirrors. I look at my reflection, and it doesn't even look like me staring back. My eyes are darker, my skin not the same shade of brown it had been before. My hair knotted, lips dry. Every inch of me looks like someone else. I continue moving, each step slow and paced. My eyes drop to the floor, brows pulling together. The dust is disturbed with long, uneven lines dragged across the wood. I crouch down slowly, fingers reaching out to trace the marks in the floorboard.

Then I see them.

Scratch marks. Deep ones, carved into the wood like someone had clawed at it with everything they had.

I snatch my hand back, clutching it at my chest. Someone had been dragged here. My eyes dart around, looking for the door, but every inch of the room is wrapped in mirrors. My chest tightens, swelling with every breath that tries to escape. I spin, searching for an exit that I can't see until my eyes fall on the corner of the room. The camera. The small, red light that flashes when in use.

He's found me.

Chapter Sixteen

Ace

Knock, knock, knock.

I can hear Jarrod shuffling behind the door, but I don't answer. I don't even bother to turn, my eyes fixed on the ceiling as he continuously paces the corridor, waiting for me.

This is how I cope. I stay rotting in my bed, staring at the ceiling until finally the screams, the voice, and everything fucking else fucks off. I've spent the last three days scrubbing my skin raw, but even now I can still smell the bitter iron in my nose. I can still feel the syrupy crimson blood dripping down my arm.