I glanced at my watch. 11 p.m. No one needed to tell me that I should try to get some sleep. But how do you sleep when you know you might not wake up with all your body parts intact? "Is it possible to sleep with one eye open?" I muttered to myself. There was only one bed in the room, and though Julie insisted we share, I hesitated.

There was nothing inherently wrong with sharing a bed. But I was cautious by nature, avoiding anything that could complicate this already horrific situation. Plus, the last thing I needed was any hint of intimacy to cloud my judgment. Shaking off my nerves, I reluctantly agreed and settled onto the bed, facing her.

“Let’s talk,” she said, her voice unusually light given the circumstances. Did she forget we were captives? But I didn’t argue. Maybe she was right; maybe a bit of normalcy could keep us sane. We spent the rest of the night talking quietly, though I only half-listened, forcing myself to stay awake. Eventually, exhaustion won, and I slipped into an uneasy sleep.

Morning came with a jolt as the door creaked open. Janet entered, her face as deceptively innocent as ever, and the bitterness rose within me. The words I’d once said to Julie came back to me: *“When life takes away someone you thought you’d never lose, it presents you with someone you never expected to have.”* Back then, it had felt hopeful, a reminder that life could surprise you. But now, all those bright sentiments felt like a cruel joke. I’d trusted Janet, and she’d betrayed me so deeply that it left a permanent scar.

"I see you both got some sleep," Janet sneered, her voice laced with mockery. "It’s normal to feel exhausted… on your last day alive."

Julie stirred beside me, blinking the sleep from her eyes, looking just as bewildered as the day we met. Seeing her beside me, Janet’s face twisted slightly, a hint of alarm flickering in her eyes. My look assured her I had no interest in rekindling anything with Julie, though the hatred between the two was practically tangible.

“Good morning, lovebirds!” Janet smirked, her voice oozing with fake sweetness. “I have a story for you both. You’re lucky you woke up just in time.” Julie didn’t respond, merely stared at Janet with a calmness that felt almost mocking. But I could see beneath it—she was bracing herself.

Janet’s smile widened. “Remember Charles? Oh, what a heartbreaker he was. How long did it take for you to get over him, Julie?” Julie’s face hardened, her mind visibly replaying the scene of that Valentine’s Day. Charles had hosted a party, and she’d been his guest of honor. They’d been laughing, talking, everything perfect… until he’d walked away to take a call. When he returned, he’d abruptly told her it was over. No explanation, no apologies, just a blunt goodbye.

Janet snapped her fingers, drawing Julie out of her reverie. “Poor girl. Thought you’d found Mr. Right. But nothing lasts forever.” She shook her head in exaggerated pity, but I saw the satisfaction in her eyes.

Julie said nothing, but her hands clenched, nails digging into her palms.

Janet continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I was the one who called him that night. His contract with you expired, dear.” She laughed, a grating, self-satisfied sound that filled the room. “Oh, let me make it simple—Charles was never interested in you. I paid him a hundred bucks to play along. He was my tool to keep you distracted.”

A chill ran through me, even though my interest in Julie’s affairs had faded. *Why?* A dark satisfaction simmered within me—she’d chosen to leave our friendship to chase something she thought was better. But there was no pleasure in watching her pain.

Julie’s face was blank, but her eyes glistened, her pain sharp and raw. She looked at Janet, who basked in her distress. "I can’t believe I fell for it. I abandoned my best friend over a lie,” she whispered, the words barely audible.

Janet only shrugged. “Well, it’s not my fault you believed every word, is it? That’s on you, darling. You got what you deserved.”

I barely listened. Hunger gnawed at me, the desperation rising. Janet’s games no longer had the power to frighten me. But a sinking realization settled in—our chances of making it out of here were growing slimmer by the minute. My stomach twisted as the truth dawned: we were just merchandise in the Hugghs’ twisted empire. And Janet was willing to break anyone who got in the way.

Julie’s face softened, her gaze flicking toward the window. She’d told me last night she’d planted a tracker. I only hoped her faith in rescue wasn’t misplaced. Because if it was… Janet wouldn’t stop until she’d broken us both.