AFTER WAVING GOODBYE TO THE GUYS, I left to go back to my room, but my tummy rumbled. Food sounded good right now. I haven't really eaten since I've been here. Gmie spoiled breakfast for me with her pissy attitude.

On my way to the kitchen, Layla sat in the same spot that I'd seen her in earlier, still whispering to the wall. This time she turned away for a moment and spotted me and started hurrying over, a toxically sweet aroma coming with her. It didn't smell like it was coming off her though. Almost like it was consuming the air around her.

"Betinia." She ran up to me, grabbing my hand. "I have a new friend now. Zimmie."

"Zimmie?"

"She talks to me. I hear her in the walls and in my head," she said, eyes blinking. "She said god's with me. Always. And that he put me here for a reason. To do his bidding and help everyone."

"So you hear Zimmie and God in your head?" I asked her.

"Yes." A big smile kissed her lips. "I felt alone before but now I have two people who love me in my head. It's wonderful. They talk to me through the walls too."

"That's great, Layla."

"I know," she said before giggling and skipping away.

Layla was really losing it, or maybe this was just a weird way to cope? It was healthier than crying. I think.

Fee moved around the kitchen, scrubbing the stove clean when I entered.

"Hungry?" he grunted at me.

"Umm, yes," I said.

"Fried chicken and potato salad?" he murmured, pulling a package of chicken out of the fridge.

Uhh, yeah.

"I'll help you." He couldn't poison me if I watched him.

"Cut potatoes," he said, nodding to the kitchen's backroom.

The back room of the kitchen was a medium-size hallway area that led out into another part of the house if you kept straight. Not seeing any potatoes in the cubbies, I opened the large, ancient-looking armoire that held the canned goods.

Dozens of shiny cans littered the rectangle area. Needing both hands to search, I placed my iPad on the floor in front of me before shuffling through the cans to see if the potatoes might've fallen in the back.

As my body arched into the cabinet, something or rather nothing materialized on the screen below. My eyes widened at the hidden gem, thinking I was seeing things, so I tried it again.

Every time I entered the armoire, I disappeared off the cameras. Actually, the kitchen's backroom didn't have a camera installed. The nearest cameras were on the outer door, which only caught the first few feet into the back room, and the other one faced away from the backroom, to record the side hallway.

This was a blind spot. They must not have put a direct camera here because they expected the other two cameras to pick up the slack, but they didn't.

Yes! I did four silent arm pumps before I hit the side of the armoire and stumbled. Crap! My hands fell against the back of the armoire, trying to catch my balance, which I did, but a sickening crack echoed in front of me.

A thick jagged fracture marred the back wall of the armoire. It was breakable. My fist jabbed at the fragile wall twice before it crumbled a bit, and a dark, tiny hole glanced back at me.

A solid wall should've been staring back at me, but instead, darkness and air wafted through the tiny cracks.

Something — a doorway or a hidden room or something was behind there.

Footsteps stomped behind me, and I closed it, rushing around for the potatoes. They sat in the left corner, and I grabbed them before walking into the kitchen, trying to act normal.

I needed to come back here when no one was around, hopefully, while a distraction was going on. Probably the next time Chi and Rucker banged.

I did go back and try to patch up the hole and cover it with the mountain of canned goods that no one would ever use.

Fee and I spent the next few hours together, cooking. It was a nice silence. At home, I did all the cooking while Tim usually just made the salad. I smiled, mixing the potato salad. I missed him.

Growing up, I wasn't close to my biological father. He was obsessed with my brother Asher. I didn't care; I was a straight-up momma's girl.

Tim, however, played both parental roles when I moved in with him. He made sure we were close — that he was involved in everything.

It wasn't until now that I realize how much I appreciated and needed that overbearing attention, even though I pushed him away most of the time. Or kept him at arm's length because I was afraid of him seeing the real me.

But he never let that stop him. He kept worming himself into my life by force until I accepted him.

Angie never accepted him. Always fighting and clawing at him. She hated that we were close, telling me that I was picking sides and that I was a traitor.

Because of that, they used to have the worse fights. Loud and vicious, mostly because of Angie. That girl could bring hail and ice to the Sahara Desert.

Tim always kept his cool. Must be the military training.

Angie... I wondered how she was coping without me. Being alone with Tim couldn't be good for either of them, but she had changed, coming back a new person after her two-year absence.

I smiled, thinking of the last few months with her. It was awesome! Long rides in her new sports car. Dancing on the beach. Laughing about everything and nothing.

While growing up, we weren't close. She butted heads with our parents, so mother and I gravitated toward each other. But after the deaths, Angie and I were thrust into the spotlight, and we were forced to be close, which made Angie rebel.

Rebel against the world. Rebel against Tim. Rebel against me. At one time, she couldn't stand me. Hated me. My therapist, who was also Angie's therapist, told me not to worry. That her behavior was normal. But still, I was going through stuff too, and I needed her.

But I let the past go and focused on the present. She was back, and our relationship was finally thriving, until now.

A hot sliver of intense longing shifted through me, and I shook it away.

No. Missing my family wouldn't help me right now. I needed to focus to survive. But if she were here, maybe I wouldn't feel so lost. So confused.

This competition strained my brain and unraveled my resolve. The constant switching between Betinia and Tini made me woozy. Betinia always stood front and center, never wavering. But ever since I awoke in that room days ago, Tini humbled at the surface, clawing for recognition — attention.

All the stress and violence just fed her, making my control weaker. Keeping her dormant for so long made Tini almost bloodthirsty.

If I described this process to anyone, they'd probably think I had a split personality, but I didn't. Memories were never forgotten, and awareness always remained when I switched. Betinia was simply a character that I never stopped playing — someone I hid my true self behind.

Most people weren't their true selves all the time. Everyone lied or pretended to be someone else at one time or another. That's why we have con artists and liars. I just do it more in-depth and longer.

Fee touched my arm, jerking me out of my thoughts. "It's mixed enough."

I bit my lip. "Sorry."

He brought over a giant plate of perfectly, crispy fried chicken. "It's fine. Everything's done. Get plates."

The plates rested in the side cabinet, and I grabbed two, placing them on the island. Fee filled our plates and went back to cleaning the stove. I wanted some water, so I went back to the cabinet for a cup, but when I got back to the island, I paused. One of the plates were missing.

"Did you take a plate?" I asked Fee who turned around from the stove.

"No," he said, stopping his movements.

I turned back to the island, touching the surface. How did a plate just disappear? It doesn't.

"People grab food all the time." Fee dried the stove with a dish cloth before coming over to the island. "No big deal."

My mind wandered to breakfast. People did just grab plates without asking. It was nothing to worry myself about, and it was just food. We had tons more.

I sniffed the air, getting a small whiff of that sugary strawberry again. It must've been Layla who grabbed the plate. Not surprised. She wasn't the most social person.

Fee grabbed another plate and filled it with food before sitting across from me at the island. Once again, we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we ate.

Eating my last bite, I ambled over to the sink, washing my dishes.

"I got the dishes," Fee grunted, getting up from the island.

"Nah, I'll help you," I said, and then we lapsed into a cleaning rhythm for an hour. When I finally left the kitchen, he was still there, putting leftovers away in case any of the other contestants wanted some.

Back at my room, I washed my face and tied my hair back before sitting on the floor and starting my research on the Bottom Doe Three.

Let's start with Chi.

Our first-class seductress and manipulator. Possible liar. Her clue was a bunch of number sequences that I couldn't decipher, so I moved onto Tiran for a second. Our neighborhood drug dealer who sold caffeine pills.

I remembered he said that he was a med student, and I looked up his college and learned some interesting info. But it was taking forever to download to my storage, so I moved onto Rucker.

Translating the Chinese symbols were my first move and right when I was about to be finished, a hard knock smashed against my door.

A striking ball of ice shimmed up my tummy and crawled along my skin like ticks. Something was wrong. My eyes shifted to the door, hearing the knock again.

"Hello?" I said, shivering.

Silence answered me back.

Then another knock.

More silence.

In a horror movie, the main girl probably would've called out again. Not me.

Was someone trying to kill me already? No. We had a pact. Right?

Clicking on the camera app, the live hallway footage loaded on my iPad in seconds.

A rough bubble scratched at my throat, constricting my breathing. It was back.

The masked figure who dressed up as my mother lounged outside my room. A repaired mask graced their face as curly hair covered their shoulders.

"My sweet daughter," the masked figure whispered through the door.

"Go away!" My heart thumped in my chest like a racehorse going for a win.

The figure scratched the door. "I want to see you, my hunny-bunny."

Hearing my old nickname yanked at my heart, eating at my valves like a rabid dog.

"Don't let it get to you," I whispered to myself.

Zooming in with my fingers, another person appeared in the hallway, pounding on Tiran's door. Sifting through the cameras, almost everyone had someone at their door.

A gorgeous blonde pounded on Tiran's door, crying and screaming. She spewed insults, saying he was a horrible lowlife and disgusting. It took me a moment to realize that it was the girl from the pictures on his walls.

Jookie and the creators must be fucking with all of us, trying to get into our heads. Can't they give us a fucking break?

"I miss you, my hunny-bun," the masked figure spoke again.

This wasn't my mother. She was dead. This was all for the game. That's the mantra that kept floating through my head.

Ignoring the figure outside my door, my eyes went back to the camera app, looking at the other people in the hallway.

Three teenagers wearing Harvard college gear, each sporting a number from one to three on their backs, crowded outside Gmie's door. One of them looked just like her.

A bunch of grungy guys knocked on Demo's door, speaking in a foreign language while carrying weapons and rope.

Aries had a girl outside his room. Probably the ex he was accused of murdering. I always figured that his secret was that he did actually murder her, but it couldn't be that simple. It must be more to it.

An older couple yelled at Khan through his door while Sebastian's door had a man in a clean suit standing outside of it, sporting a watch with double zeros on it.

A bloody Jesus-dressed man knocked on Layla's door, spewing bible verses in between his cackling. A stocky woman covered in mud screamed at Fee's door.

A little girl cried outside of Rucker's room, confirming my research from earlier. I now knew who I was going to vote off tomorrow.

Before I could switch back to the cameras outside my room, the door to my bedroom started to slide open as a harsh chuckle pounded in my ears.

♟♙♟