For the next two days, not just dread has continue to reign over the Fear House. But there is an unsettling silence that has been swallowing everything. Could the nation be loving this? Mother is. The teens—Austin, Sam, Henry, Lynne, and Maddie—each retreat into their respective rooms or linger quietly in shared spaces, their once-fragile unity shattered beyond recognition.

The air is heavy, suffused with an unspoken tension born of paranoia and despair. Since the disastrous group dinner, not a single word has passed between them. The rift between them, once subtle, has grown into a schism impossible to bridge. Even when necessity drives them to shared areas like the bathroom or the laptop, they avoid eye contact, their movements stiff and hurried, as though proximity itself is a threat.

Meals are no longer communal but solitary affairs. Austin and Maddie, with their stock of food rations from the Ungrouped challenge, eat in isolation, the faint rustling of wrappers and clinking of cans the only sounds betraying their presence.

Sam, Henry, and Lynne scour the kitchen for scraps, making do with whatever remains, their hunger gnawing at their already fragile resolve. The lack of food, compounded by sleepless nights and festering doubts, leaves them gaunt, their faces pale and drawn. The once-hopeful spark in their eyes has dimmed to a flicker.

The Forsaken Room's low, haunting hum continues unabated, but none of them dare acknowledge it. Its noise is a sinister backdrop to the growing fracture among the group. They are all painfully aware that the finale looms ever closer, a specter casting long shadows over their dwindling hope. No one knows when Mother will reappear or what fresh torment she will unleash, but the silence only deepens their trepidation.

The Fear House feels more like a tomb with each passing hour, and the teens are its unwilling occupants.

On the twenty-third day of their captivity, the dreadful peace is shattered by the familiar blare of the horn-like siren. Its sharp, piercing wail jolts the teens from their isolated stupors, each one reluctantly drawn toward the Gathering Zone.

Lynne, breaking the silence for the first time in days, yells, "What the hell is happening?" Her voice, though loud, trembles with unease.

"I don't know," Henry mutters, his voice thin and hesitant.

Austin, Sam, and Maddie remain silent, their expressions blank masks that betray little but exhaustion. They glance warily at each other, their mutual suspicion preventing even the faintest attempt at comfort.

The siren's wail abruptly ceases, leaving behind a ringing stillness that feels almost louder than the sound itself.

Henry, in a weak attempt at levity, mumbles, "Well, there goes our eardrums. Maybe now we'll get some peace."

No one laughs.

The room's oppressive silence is broken by the reemergence of Mother. Her crimson light, undeterred by the cracks in the camera lens, glows malevolently above the screen. Her voice, saccharine and mocking, fills the space.

"Ah, my darling children! How I've missed you. Did you enjoy your little break?" Her tone is laced with venomous sarcasm. "I must say, your group dinner was truly a spectacle. America loved it! Do try to do that again sometime."

Austin stiffens, his jaw tightening, while Maddie's hands clench into fists at her sides. Lynne looks down, avoiding the camera's gaze, while Henry shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Sam, however, glares directly at the coverless lens, her eyes blazing with defiance.

Mother's voice grows colder. "But enough reminiscing. It's time to liven things up. You've all been so boring these past two days, skulking around like frightened little mice. And we can't have that, can we? America demands action."

The teens exchange wary glances, a silent dread settling over them.

"Fortunately," Mother continues, her tone brightening with cruel glee, "I've been busy. Over the past forty-eight hours, the nation has been voting. They've chosen which of your past challenges to resurrect. And wouldn't you know it, their overwhelming favorite is..." She pauses, letting the tension build. "The Hurting challenge!"

Maddie's breath catches in her throat, while Sam's fists tighten at her sides. Henry's eyes widen, and Lynne visibly pales. Austin's expression hardens into a mask of grim resolve.

"It seems America wants to see you fight again," Mother says, her voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. "And who am I to deny them? Let's make this one even more... personal."

The teens' silence is deafening, their collective fear palpable.

Mother's attention shifts to Maddie. "Ah, Maddie," she croons. "You said something intriguing during your last little spat with Sam. Something about showing her your history of hurting others. How fitting."

Maddie's face flushes as she avoids Sam's accusatory gaze. The tension between them thickens, an invisible cord pulling tighter with each passing second.

Mother's tone sharpens. "Let's test that history, shall we? Austin," she says, turning her focus to him, "Prove your innocence. Show the nation you're not the killer. Hurt Maddie."

Austin's body goes rigid. He glances at Maddie, her wide eyes betraying her terror, then at the others. Sam's expression is unreadable, though her jaw is clenched. Lynne shakes her head slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line. Henry watches with a mix of pity and horror.

"Well?" Mother presses. "What are you waiting for?"

Austin takes a slow step toward Maddie. She doesn't move, her breath shallow and rapid. He murmurs, "I'm sorry," so quietly it's barely audible.

Maddie closes her eyes, bracing herself.

Just as Austin balls his right hand into a fist, ready to strike, he stops. Feeling bad for what he took part during their last group dinner. How he hurt Henry. And now, he's forced to hurt Maddie. They have been through enough. If there's any shot to take a stand one way or another, now has to be it. If not when? Austin gleans over to Sam and slyly smirks.

He takes a deep breath. He whispers to Maddie, "It's going to be okay."

Maddie hears his words as she opens her eyes a little confused. Out of the blue, he turns around to face the cracked camera lens and lowers his hand to his side.

"No!" Austin exclaims defiantly.

The word hangs in the air, electrifying the room.

Mother's voice darkens. "What did you say?"

Austin lifts his chin. "I said no. I'm not doing it."

Sam's eyes widen, a flicker of approval breaking through her guarded expression. Lynne's lips part in astonishment. Henry's mouth curves into a faint, disbelieving smile. Maddie's shoulders sag with relief, tears welling in her eyes.

Mother's tone turns icy. "Defiance? How quaint. Allow me to remind you of the rules. Failure to comply results in consequences."

"I don't care," Austin snaps. "Do whatever you want. I'm not playing your sick game."

The room falls deathly silent.

Then, for the first time, the red light in Mother's camera lens intensifies, glowing brighter and brighter until it bathes the room in an ominous crimson hue. The teens instinctively recoil, their faces bathed in the eerie light.

"You'll regret this," Mother hisses, her voice waspish.

Austin doesn't know what he just done as he turns back to the others. Their glances paralyzed at first shock. But now worrisome, not knowing what Mother is about to do next.

Defiance comes at a cost. Unfortunately for Austin, he is about to find out.