I jerk awake, bolting upright, and the cot creaks beneath me. The pounding of my heart in my chest reverberates through me, pulsing in my throat, echoing in my ears. I swallow thickly as I twist around, lying my head back against the wall, taking deep breaths in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

I wish I could say it was only a nightmare, but I don't have to open my eyes to remember where I am, to know that it wasn't just a dream. Pulling my feet up onto the cot, I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, squeezing tight.

I open my eyes as I slowly begin to catch my breath and one by one, things start to come into focus–Alex asleep on the cot across from me, the small toilet at the front of our cell, the bars locking us in. I look past them to the faint glow of light in the center of the room, illuminating the bars of the other cells around us.

There are so many of us here. Back home, being a Breeder seemed like such a rare thing, but in here I can see that there are far too many of us. Too many broken girls like me, only they've clearly been through so much worse. Things I can't even begin to imagine that must lie ahead for me.

Resting my forehead on my knees, I continue my deep and steady breathing, trying desperately not to fall into another panic attack. But my breaths come quicker as my chest expands to full capacity, and it doesn't seem to be enough. I can't seem to catch my breath.

I don't want to end up like these girls. Looking into their eyes is more terrifying than anything I've been through since leaving home. None of it compares. Because all it took was one look into a Breeder's eyes for me to know, to know that life here was going to be as bad as I've heard, to know that all of the rumors are true.

The pressure in my chest becomes too much to bear and I find myself rocking back and forth, hugging my knees even tighter as a tingly numbness spreads through my fingers and a few tears slide down my cheeks.

No, no, no, I think to myself as my head shakes back and forth. Alex shifts in her sleep, and I realize I've said this out loud. Please calm down, please calm down, I beg and plead with myself, but it's no use. I can't stop the fear from coursing through me, because it's too late. I've seen it all with my own eyes now, images that can't be taken back, and every time I think about it, every time I remember, it throws me into another panic.

Girls handcuffed to beds, bruises up and down their arms. The lost, drugged-up look on some of their faces. Being escorted everywhere they go. The way they all walk with their heads down, defeated. The way that most of them don't speak to anyone, not even each other.

But their eyes are the worst. When they do look up at me, it's like looking into the windows of the saddest and most desolate of souls.

Broken.

Empty.

I slide down and onto my side, curling up into a tight ball.

I don't want that to be me...I so badly don't want that to be me...but it will be. Soon enough, it will be. I press my face into the thin pillow, biting down on it when all I want to do is scream.

A long while later, my heart rate begins to slow, and it becomes a little easier to breathe. That one wasn't too bad, not compared to the ones I've been having. I've never had panic attacks before today, but all things considered, I'm not too surprised. It was only a matter of time before it all became too much, before it was ripped out of my control to keep it all in.

Just as my breathing evens out, chills overtake my body. They keep coming in waves even though I'm covered in sweat, and I curl into myself, trying to get warm and keep from shaking so much. It must be another fever. They say I have some sort of flu, the upside being that they can't start the in-vitro process on me until I'm better.

It all started the night we lit that stupid fire, the night the Hunter's found us. I guess I was so wrapped up in getting caught, in Travis being a Hunter, that I didn't feel it again until we hit the open road in the back of that Hunter's car. I still remember the hum of the tires, the steady bounce of the car on the road, the cross dangling from the mirror, swaying back and forth. I breathed hard trying to keep it in, but my stomach churned, and eventually I let it all out in the backseat. I was a little embarrassed until I realized who I was in the company of, because then, if I could have, I would have smiled just a little knowing that they would have to clean it up.

I close my eyes and the steady rhythm of my breaths finally start to pull me back under.

"Maddie?" Alex asks, causing me to jump.

I start to answer, but my mouth is too dry. I swallow and try again, "Yeah?"

"You okay?" she asks with concern.

I let out a quick breath. Of course I'm not okay, and in too many ways to count. So I don't answer because I really wouldn't even know where to begin.

"Please talk to me. I've told you I'm sorry so many times, I don't know what else I can say."

And I know that. I'm not mad at her. I just haven't been able to bring myself to say anything, because all of this...It's just too much. But I know how bad she feels for the things she said to me. I know that she was just terrified, worried, hurt, angry. I get it, I really do, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"You're still mad at me," she cuts through my thoughts.

I'm really not, but I can't bring myself to say the words.

"You and I? We're all we've got now. You can't stay mad at me forever. You know I didn't mean it. I'd take it all back if I could," she says sincerely.

"I know," I answer quietly and look over at her.

She nods her head, and her eyes glisten in the dark with unshed tears. "Okay," she breathes.

I roll over and pull the rough blanket up and over my shoulders, trying to get comfortable.

"Try and get some rest, Maddie, you'll never feel better if you're up all night," she adds.

I bite my lip, shaking my head. How does she expect me to sleep when every time I close my eyes, all I have are nightmares? When every time I close my eyes, I see him, his green eyes staring at me as I look at him with such an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness, only to have it completely shattered.

It happens the same way every time. He walks over to me, and the closer he gets the more everything changes. The room grows darker, and so do his eyes. He smiles at me with deceit and amusement before pushing me to the ground, laughing. His evil laughter echoes all around me as he tells me things like how stupid I am, or how pathetic. He grips me with strong, painful arms and straps me down to a medical bed, and suddenly I'm in a bright white room with doctors all around. He tells them to have at me, then the overwhelming sense of pain tears through me, and that's usually when I wake up in a sweat, barely able to breathe.

I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to see him again, but I don't have a choice. I'm so completely exhausted. As my eyes drift shut, I try to think of anything else, but I only see his face.

Why did he do this to me?

Why?

When we first got here, I looked everywhere for him in vain. My eyes searched every inch I was allowed, convinced that maybe I was wrong about him, but I never found him. He rushed back into my life like a tornado, just to tear it all down and never look back, and I'll never understand why.

But maybe I don't need to know why.

Maybe there can be a reason for all of this. A purpose. If I could only focus on that purpose, believe that it's the honorable thing to do no matter how wrong it feels, then maybe I can keep myself from dying inside like the other girls. One day, when the world is right again, it might be us that they remember–the nameless, faceless women who brought life back into the world. And maybe I'll be a part of that legacy.

I curl into myself further.

...But I don't want to be a mom. Not like this...

The bars slam against each other as the cell door opens, startling me awake.

"Ryan! Let's go!" someone commands.

I sit up, wiping my eyes and scrunching my face in confusion as I look up and see the same Hunter who questioned me yesterday, Lieutenant Jenkins. Something is off about him. I don't know what it is yet, but his demeanor doesn't sit right with me.

"Let's go! Move it!" he demands.

I slowly stand, stretching my arms behind my back, yawning a, "What now?"

"I'm taking you in for further questioning," he answers reluctantly.

"But you already questioned me. I don't have anything else to tell you."

"Just shut up and do what you're told," he snaps.

He leads me down the hall and to the door of an interrogation room, the same one from yesterday.

"Take a seat and hold tight," he instructs as he shuts me inside of the room.

I glance around the familiar space, the room I spent hours in yesterday answering the same damn questions over and over again.

"Why did you run?" Lieutenant Jenkins asked.

"Because I didn't want to end up here."

"Lot of good that did you."

Asshole.

"Did you tell anyone of your plans to run?"

"Of course not." I shook my head in disbelief.

"Where did you go?"

"East."

"Yet we found you up North."

"Yep."

Clearing his throat in irritation, he continued, "Did you run across anyone during the eleven months you were on the run?"

"What does it matter?"

"It matters because if there are other Breeders out there tired, hungry, and alone, we need to bring them in and keep them safe."

I laughed. "Right."

"This isn't a joke. It's against the law to withhold this kind of information. If you have any knowledge of other runaway Breeders you are required to tell us."

"And if I don't?" I asked.

"Then there are consequences," he answered with a disturbing amusement in his cold, brown eyes.

"Consequences worse than this? Than being a Breeder?"

His partner chuckled, looking at me, but really just looking through me, like I wasn't even there.

I swallowed, a little afraid. What more would they really do to me?

Jenkins leaned across the table, looking me dead in the eyes. "Yes, Breeder. Much worse."

I cleared my throat, feeling nervous. "No. I didn't come across anyone, only the two you found me with."

The door opens, and Jenkins strolls in, taking the seat across from me. No one follows him in. It's just us two. Nausea begins to churn in the pit of my stomach. I don't want to be alone with this guy.

"We've received some new intel this morning involving a recent shooting. I have a feeling you and your little friend might know something about it," he says with a raised eyebrow, getting right to it.

Shit.

"Why do you think I was involved?" I shift in my seat but quickly still myself. If he already suspects something, then I can't let him see that I'm nervous or he'll know.

"Well," he begins, lingering on that first word as he gauges my reaction. "There was a shooting only a few hours south of where you were apprehended. It was reported that two females and a male were responsible. Matching your descriptions exactly," he says in a condescending tone. "Oddly enough," he adds with a smirk.

I try to laugh him off, but I sound nervous. Shit. I'm gonna screw this up. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say with as much conviction as I can muster.

He stands up and rounds the table, stopping behind me. His large frame towers over me, casting a shadow across the table. I gulp and let out a slow breath as he leans down, stopping when his face is next to mine.

I squeeze my eyes shut as he begins to speak, "Funny thing, though, there was no gun found on any of you or the home you were in. But I think you know where you left that gun, and I think you want to tell me where that is," he says, like it's a threat.

But wait...what? What about Aiden's gun? I saw Travis pick it up. Did he not turn it in? Why would he do that?

To protect me. That's my initial, gut reasoning, but if he had wanted to protect me, I wouldn't be here. Right? I shake my head, not understanding what's happening.

Then he pulls my hair away from my ear, leaning in closer. I jerk away, but he still has a grip on my hair, and he slowly pulls me back towards him. My pulse begins to race, and my hands start to shake.

"Jenkins! Office. Now," a familiar voice growls through the speaker, and I let out a huge breath.

I spin around in the chair, looking all around the room for Travis, but am only met by four plain walls, a closed door, and a one-way mirror.

I still at the mirror, my eyes raking every last inch, but of course I can't see him. Is he in there, looking at me right now?

"Don't you move, I'm not finished here," Jenkins says as he makes his way out of the room.

I'm still watching the mirror, wishing so desperately that I could see who is on the other side. If I could just see his face, see him one more time, then maybe I could understand.

Thoughts keep swirling through my mind, so much doubt intertwined within them. Was it really even Travis there that night? Have I lost my mind? Every fiber of my being screams at me to see something deeper going on here, but what the hell could that be when I'm sitting here in the Breeder Compound? I've been interrogated and interrogated again, they've drawn my blood, run tests that have ensured that I am in fact a Breeder. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.

Did he expect to take care of me? To be able to monitor me while I'm in here? It doesn't make sense. Why would he want to watch the things that they'll do to me?

I push away from the table and fold forward, my head hanging between my legs as I brace myself with my hands on my knees. I gasp for air, willing myself to calm. Not now. You're not doing this now. You'll be fine...you'll be okay. Aiden's right, you're strong. You can get through this.

Something slams into the wall, and I immediately sit upright, looking back at the mirror. Another pound against the wall and then a loud murmuring of voices, but I can't make out anything they're saying. It's quiet for only a few moments before Jenkins comes rushing through the door.

"Let's go, we're done here for now," he says through gritted teeth.

I stand to follow but stop dead in my tracks when I see his face. There's an unmistakable red mark blooming beneath the slightly swollen curve of his cheekbone.

"Let's go!" he yells, and I jump into action, following him out of the room.

Did Travis punch him? I smile a little at the thought.

I don't know what's going on, and none of it makes sense, but I do know one thing for sure...Travis is here for a reason, and I'm going to find out what that reason is.