Her head swam. Thoughts came in jagged fragments. He killed her for me.I let it happen. If I hadn’t screamed, she wouldn’t have stopped to shove me out the door. 

If I’d been faster… braver… Tears blurred Jordan’s vision. Brian crouched slightly, bringing his face level with hers. His breath smelled of stale tobacco and something sour. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek with horrifying gentleness. “You look like her,” he murmured. “But stronger. Smarter. You’ll understand one day why it had to be this way. You’ll thank me.” Jordan jerked her head back, slamming it against the wall. Pain flared through her skull, but it steadied her. She gritted her teeth. “I’ll never thank you. Never.” Something dark flickered in his eyes — a warning. The whistle began again, low and mocking, reverberating in the confined room. He tapped his fingers against the steel wall in rhythm, like a predator amused by its prey. Jordan’s shaking hand slid behind her, searching desperately — and found it. The recessed red button. Her finger hovered. Brian’s gaze followed her movement. He noticed. He smiled. “You think they’ll save you?” he asked. “No one’s coming in time. It’s just you and me, sweetheart. Always has been.” Jordan’s stomach lurched. For one paralyzing second, she almost believed him. But then her mother’s face came back to her — bloodied, terrified, yet still shoving Jordan forward, still whispering run. Ceri hadn’t died so her daughter could surrender. With a cry that tore from the depths of her chest, Jordan slammed her palm against the panic button. A siren screamed within the walls, faint but sharp, the signal for help sent across the lines. Brian’s smirk vanished. His eyes darkened with sudden rage. “You ungrateful little—”