Sam shifts uncomfortably as she and the others step onto the Gathering Zone's circular floor, the sterile white walls closing in like a suffocating vice. Their movements are sluggish, heavy with the emotional toll of the past days. Mother's crimson lens gleams above them, pulsating with a slow, menacing rhythm. Sam catches her reflection in its curved surface—a hardened girl with sharp blue eyes and a bruise darkening beneath one of them, a vivid reminder of Lynne's reluctant strike.

The tension is palpable as Mother's voice crackles to life, sweet and sharp like shattered glass. "Ah, my dear roommates. You look so defeated. Chin up! The nation isn't quite finished with you yet. Shall we begin?"

"Just get it over with," Sam growls, stepping forward. Her defiance is a mask, barely holding back the inner rage brewing inside her.

Mother's laugh is light, almost playful, but the undercurrent of malice is unmistakable. "Patience, Samantha. Before we proceed, let's talk about family. Those lovely pictures you've been enjoying? Consider them my little gift."

Henry's voice cuts through the uneasy silence, his tone steady despite the tremor in his hands. "What about actually talking to them? You keep teasing us. When?"

Mother's tone turns saccharine, mocking. "Oh, Henry, always so eager. In time. For now, isn't it enough to see their faces?"

Lynne steps forward, her voice tight with desperation. "What do you mean, 'in time'? That's not an answer! We need to talk to them. They need to know we're okay!"

Mother's lens swivels toward Lynne, her amusement palpable. "But they already know, Lynne. Every day, they hear your voices, see your smiles. They're at peace."

Sam's mind whirls, the pieces clicking into place. "You're faking it," she mutters, her voice tinged with disgust. "Whoever's behind this, they're using fake videos, fake voices. You're feeding them lies."

Henry's eyes widen as comprehension dawns. "They're being distracted," he murmurs. "Whoever's running this... they've got tech advanced enough to fake... everything."

Maddie's hands clench at her sides, her breathing shallow. Lynne shakes her head, her voice cracking. "Why? Why would they do this to us? To our families?"

Sam steps closer to the lens, her jaw tight with fury. "Tell us who's behind this. Right now."

Mother's laughter echoes, hollow and biting. "Ah, Samantha. Always so bold. So predictable. But I must say, for someone without a family, you're quite protective of those who still have one."

Sam's eyes blaze. "I don't need a family."

Mother's voice lowers, almost purring. "Don't you? But what about her, Sam? What about Brandy?"

The name strikes Sam like a physical blow. She flinches, her composure faltering for a split second. The room seems to freeze, the other teens exchanging confused glances. Lynne takes a hesitant step forward, her voice soft.

"Who's Brandy?"

"Enough!" Sam yells angrily, her voice sharp as glass.

Mother is relentless. "Oh, but it isn't enough. The nation demands the truth. And today, Samantha, it's your turn. You've been chosen for our next #Shametale."

Sam's fists clench, her nails digging into her palms. "No."

Mother's voice turns icy. "Oh, but yes. You will share the most shameful moment of your life. And if you refuse? Well, I'll just have to punish your little friends. Let's see... perhaps no more computer access? Or maybe I'll limit your food privileges. Once a day, perhaps? How does that sound, Henry?"

Henry's face pales. "We need the computer. Sam, you know we do. For... our friend." He glances at her meaningfully, his voice barely above a whisper.

"And I'm not surviving on one meal a day," Austin adds, his voice hard. "Lynne's cooking's the only decent thing in this hellhole."

Lynne's cheeks flush, but she nods earnestly. "Please, Sam! Just do it. Remember, we need those meals."

Sam's heart pounds, anger and desperation warring within her. She glares at the lens, her voice trembling with fury. "You're sick."

Mother's laughter is soft, cruel. "And you're stalling. Shall we begin?"

Sam swallows hard, her voice low and raw. "Her name was Brandy."

Mother's lens flashes, as if drinking in the moment. "Louder, Sam. The nation wants to hear."

"Her name was Brandy!" Sam shouts, her voice cracking. Her shoulders slump, the fight draining from her. "She was the closest thing I ever had to a sister. We met at my third orphanage, after my third failed foster home. We did everything together. We made a pinky promise..."

Her voice falters, but Mother's silence presses her on. "We promised to find a home together. Or a family that'd take us both. But it didn't work out that way. A couple adopted her. Not me."

Maddie's voice is barely a whisper. "What happened to her?"

Sam hesitates, her eyes welling up. Mother's voice cuts through, cold and relentless. "Finish it, Sam. What happened to Brandy?"

Sam's body shakes with suppressed rage and grief. "Three months later, I found out they... they hurt her. Those people. They hurt her so bad that she couldn't..." Her voice breaks, and she clenches her fists so tightly her knuckles turn white. "She took her own life."

The room falls deathly silent. Sam glares at the lens, her voice rising with defiance. "Is that enough for you? Is the nation happy now?"

Mother's reply is devoid of emotion. "That's too bad."

The words push Sam over the edge. "Screw you!" she screams, her voice echoing through the sterile room. She turns and storms toward her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Henry watches her go, his chest tight with guilt.

Mother in her cheeky, cold manner refocuses back on the other teens. "So for those who didn't leave heartbreakingly, congratulations!" Her voice sounds insidiously gleefully. "Your privileges are back on."

The others try to react carefully, trying to impress Mother. But then Mother gives them a stark warning.

"Remember, my children. I'm in control...always."

Soon Mother's red light fades off from her camera lens. The tension that the others had to stomach finally breaks. They try to catch their breath feeling uncomfortable and also upset for Sam, for what she had to go through.

"Mother can be just cruel." Austin says in a bitter tone.

"How are we going to escape?" Lynne questions.

Austin simply just shrugs as he sulks back to the couch, lying back not knowing what else to say. Lynne walks back to the kitchen area as Maddie sits back on the couch, still numbed by what happened.

Henry still thinking about Sam, remains hesitant at first, but decides to head to her room. He knocks lightly on her door. "Sam? Can I come in?"

There's no response, but after a moment, the door creaks open. Sam sits on the edge of her bed, her back to him. Her shoulders are rigid, and her breathing is uneven.

"I'm sorry," Henry says, his voice soft. "About Brandy. About everything."

Sam doesn't turn around. "Why are you here, Henry?"

"Because I... I get it." He says, stepping inside. He leans against the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets. "My dad was a deadbeat. Walked out on us when Ariel was a baby. My mom did everything she could. Had to work double shifts as a nurse and a server just to keep me and Ariel steady. I... I ignored my sister and my mom. Buried myself in comics and computers. This place, it's made me realize how much I've failed her. Both of them."

Sam glances at him over her shoulder, her expression softening. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're not alone," Henry says simply. "And maybe that pinky promise you made to Brandy? It's not broken. Maybe you'll find that family. The one you deserve."

Sam's lips twitch into a faint, sad smile. "Which family would that be?"

Henry shrugs, a small grin breaking through his solemnity. "Guess we'll find out."

Before Sam can reply, the lights flicker violently, plunging them into chaos. A low, ominous hum vibrates through the walls, sending a shiver down their spines.

Sam and Henry lock eyes, the unspoken question hanging between them: What fresh hell awaits now?