Page 84 of Ruined

I struggle against Dmitri's grip as he drags me toward the door. "Ivan! Please! I came here willingly – I'm cooperating!"

But Ivan has already turned away, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. "Make sure she's secure, Dmitri. We'll be having company soon."

Dmitri drags me down a narrow staircase, my attempts to break free proving futile against his iron grip. The basement air hits me—cold, damp, and tinged with something chemical that makes my stomach turn.

"Please," I try again, "I need to see my sister. I need to know she's okay."

Dmitri remains silent, his face expressionless as he shoves me into a small room. The space is barely larger than a closet, with concrete walls and a single flickering lightbulb overhead. There's nothing inside except a metal folding chair.

Before I can turn around the door slams shut. The lock clicks with chilling finality.

"Wait!" I pound my fists against the door. "Jessica! Michael! Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Just the hollow echo of my own voice bouncing off concrete walls.

I press my ear against the door, straining to hear any sound that might indicate my sister or friend are nearby. The silence is deafening.

"Jessica!" I scream her name until my throat burns. "Michael! Please, answer me if you can hear me!"

Still nothing.

I slide down against the door, wrapping my arms around my knees. What have I done? I came here thinking I could save them, thinking I could fix everything by offering myself to Ivan. But they're not even here. Or if they are, they can't hear me.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I say, banging my forehead against my knees.

I thought I was being brave but I've only made things worse. Now Ivan has me too, and he's using me as bait for Noah.

Noah.

The thought of him sends a confusing wave of emotions crashing through me. Anger. Fear. Something else I don't want to name.

"Don't come," I whisper, as if he could somehow hear me. "Please don't come."

But I know he will. Despite everything—despite my hatred, despite my accusations—Noah will come for me. And Ivan will be waiting.

I close my eyes, remembering the look on Noah's face when I told him I hated him. The way his eyes hardened, masking the hurt I glimpsed for just a second.

It doesn't matter what happens to me now. Jessica and Michael are what matter. And Noah?—

I can't think about what might happen to Noah. Not now.

I stand up, examining the room for any possible escape. The walls are solid concrete. The door is heavy metal. The light fixture is too high to reach.

I'm trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.

And all I can do is wait and hope that somehow, by some miracle, this doesn't end with more blood on my hands.

I've been pacing this concrete cell for what feels like hours, my thoughts spiraling between panic and despair. My throat's raw from screaming for Jessica and Michael, but no one's come. No one's answered.

The silence is suffocating.

I sink down onto the small cot, pressing my palms against my eyes. What have I done? Noah was right—I should have stayed put, let him handle this. But I couldn't just sit there while Ivan had Jessica. My little sister, who's never hurt anyone, who doesn't deserve any of this.

A soft sound breaks through my thoughts.

I freeze, holding my breath to listen.

There it is again—a faint tapping coming from the wall to my right.

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