Darin lay on the bed and didn't move.
Not because she couldn't.
Because she didn't know yet if she was allowed to.
Her throat hurt. A deep, scraped soreness that flared when she swallowed. Her shoulder throbbed dully beneath the sheet.
Her eyes stayed on the ceiling. The light was back to its neutral brightness, not too kind, not too harsh. The hum in the walls had returned to its usual pitch. Everything exactly where it should be.
Why… Why is this happening to me?
Doctors, or whatever they were supposed to hurry when someone is in danger. If she had been important, truly important, they would've been panicking.
They didn't interrupt. Didn't warn her. Didn't de-escalate. The red light came late. After she fell. After she lost control.
So they don't care about my well-being.
Her fingers curled slightly into the sheet.
I'm being treated like a neglected patient.
Sugar's face floated up next. Neutral as ever. Mild concern, carefully portioned. Sugar never hovered. Never pressed. Never coaxed information out of her the way Darin half-expected captors to do.
Is this a test? What are they trying to squeeze out of me?
Her teeth grit. She drove her fingers toward her scalp, scratching until her hair became a mess.
Damn it…!
Her gaze drifted, searching, then she spotted the tablet on the side table, angled just enough to be visible from the bed, screen dark, waiting.
Sugar left it again.
She dug her fingers into her scalp even harder.
What do you want out of me!?
Sugar's face surfaced in her mind.
That mild smile. That patient tone. Never rushed. Never pressing. Never angry. But never warm, either.
Sugar doesn't need answers from me.
That realization slid in quietly and refused to leave.
She didn't interrogate. Didn't extract. Didn't threaten. She corrected Darin sometimes, yes, but only when Darin drifted too far off script.
I'm already on their rails.
The doctors, too. In and out. Efficient, detached. As if what happened to her wasn't notable, just another variation of something they'd seen before.
What even is my purpose here?
The thought echoed, unanswered.
They're not keeping me alive because they care.
They're keeping me alive because they're waiting… but for what?
Her wristband buzzed faintly against her head.
The tablet screen flickered.
Her stomach dropped.
Then the screen lit.
ZERO
Her stomach dropped.
The speaker crackled softly.
"Talk to me," ZERO said. Familiar in a way that made her chest ache. "What did you learn?"
Darin closed her eyes.
What did I learn?
"That they don't care if I hurt," she said quietly. "Not really. They let it happen. I'm nothing but a mouse inside their cage."
ZERO's voice slid in, uninvited and calm. "And?"
"And that means I don't have leverage," Darin said silently. "Whatever they want, they think time will get it for them."
"You sound certain."
"I'm not," she snapped back. "But with what I know? Obedience buys me time. Anything else will get corrected. I have to wait for them to make the first move, that's all I can do."
…
"That's not enough," ZERO said.
"You're missing something, think."
Annoyance flared. Darin closed her eyes, then opened them again, scanning the room without moving her head.
I'm missing something? It can't be.
She scanned everything again, trying not to rush.
The response team again. The way they'd stepped around each other without looking. The way one had already reached for her wrist before another finished speaking.
The thought landed quietly.
They've done this before.
No.
They'd done this many times.
Her pulse picked up.
I'm not prioritized.
This isn't the first time for them.
Which means…
The conclusion felt dangerous even before she finished it.
I might not be the only one here.
The room felt different suddenly.
No, she thought immediately.
Don't jump.
"I need proof," she murmured. "I can't assume that."
She grabbed onto the next solid thing she had.
Sugar.
She doesn't rush,
She doesn't push. She doesn't extract anything from me, even when she could. She just… observes.
She frowned.
If I were the only one, she'd spend more time. She'd adjust more. She'd care more about efficiency.
The thought twisted.
But she doesn't,
Which means either I'm not that important… or she's managing more than just me.
Her heart hammered now, fast and loud.
The thought didn't settle.
It might not be true.
She clung to that.
It might not be true.
Butit might be.
Darin stared at the tablet, at ZERO's unmoving name.
If there are others, then the system isn't built around me. It's built to scale.
She swallowed.
And that means there are gaps. Not because it's flawed, but because it's busy.
Softly, ZERO said, "You're getting closer…"
Darin lay back against the bed, eyes on the ceiling again, mind racing.
This is too much of a gamble, she thought.
This is risky.
This could get me killed.
She exhaled.
But it was the first idea that didn't collapse under its own weight.
"…I'll gamble," she whispered.
Darin inhaled slowly and made a decision she didn't trust but needed.
"Even if this messes everything up, I'll gamble."
The light above her dimmed by a fraction.
Footsteps passed outside her door, unhurried and familiar.
Sugar's voice murmured to someone down the hall, tone steady, already moving on.
Darin didn't look at the door.
She stared at the tablet instead, and waited.
"Good luck, I'll be waiting for you." ZERO said before the tablet shut down.