HELENE DIDN'T LIKE GAMES. She never had played them, not when she had been forced to hold books as soon as they discovered how clever she was. To be honest, it was fine like that, she wasn't the type to run around anyway. Mainly because her stamina was terrible, but also because she didn't like the idea of people getting too close to her, of them seeing her bruises. That was before she had learned how to use them. Pain was just another currency in this world, if you knew how to trade with the right people.

She was even trading right now.

"My mother is dead," she said," she hung herself when I was fourteen. I was the one who found her."

"How did you feel?" Nathan asked, smiling as if they were talking about the weather.

She paused for a moment, knowing all the guards in the room were trying to keep their pokerface, but failing. It would almost have been amusing to see their terror, if it had not been mixed with pity, that was.

"Relieved."

Nathan's smile widened.

"My turn," he drawled," it'll be more fun for you if we create suspense this way, won't it?"

"I didn't know you were so concerned with my fun."

He smiled at her, almost gently, like he wanted to place his lips on the wounds on her hands. Knowing him, he'd most likely would be happy at the taste of blood.

"You're the only one I'm concerned about, Helene."

He pushed the hair out of his eyes then, not minding the way the chains were marring his wrists red.

"I let myself get caught," he said," and I'm only staying here until my interest wears off."

"No prisoner has ever escaped from here before," Helene said.

"None of them were me," Nathan smiled.

He waited, staring at her like he could determine the truth of her words by the movement of her lips alone, like he would catch a slight tremor as she spoke about grief.

"I was on medication for years," she said," my mother got it for me. I had no idea what it was."

"What did it do?" Nathan asked.

She remembered the constant shaking, the insomnia that had started then and which was still not leaving now, the way her heart had been beating like it would break her ribcage open. Whatever it had been, it had kept her awake enough to make her take up all the projects her mother had wanted her to. The occasional sleep was only important to keep her pretty, her mother had said. Dolls were only pleasant to look at when they were beautiful.

"It did enough," she said," you're next."

"I walked in on my mother's death as well," he said," I remember how her footsteps thudded through the house every day, but that night there was a spring to it, like she knew she had one less burden to bear."

"How did she do it?" Helene asked.

He swiftly moved his thumb across his neck, smile wide. "Cut her throat."

"That's a lie," Helene said.

Her accusation didn't faze him that much as he leaned forward, chuckling.

"Okay, you're right, she hung herself."

"Lie."

"Took a bottle of pills from our bathroom and swallowed them all, until her organs failed."

"Lie."

He smashed his chains against the table, the sound so loud it alarmed all the guards around them, his eyes fully focused on her.

"Why are you convinced that I'm lying?" he said," I know the exact information in your binder. All it says is that my dear parents disappeared suddenly, on different days. There's nothing about what happened to them."

His eyes gleamed in the fluorescent light as he tilted his head, amused. "Okay, I killed her."

"That's a lie," she said, comfortably leaning back in her chair.

He stayed silent for a moment, before finally chuckling, mirroring her position.

"You were right," he said lazily," it was a lie. Did you guess I would be lying about this because you lied about your mother?"

"How did you know?" Helene said.

"I told you I read about your youth," he said," what makes you think I didn't see it there?"

"You wouldn't," she replied simply," what use is a game you're cheating on?"

He let his gaze flick to her lips, before he looked back in her eyes. "You're right, I didn't."

"I know you didn't kill her the same way you know I didn't walk in on her tying the noose," Helene said and she saw that for him, that answer sufficed.

Of course it did. He knew what she meant, that they both lacked the emotions coupled to such an act, whether that be negative or positive ones. Even though people said Nathan was a monster who was incapable of feeling anything, she knew that wasn't true. She had seen his expression when he had talked about killing his father. If he had been as apathic as they all claimed him to be he wouldn't have shown anything, so she doubted he'd be emotionless about his mother as well, someone who apparently had been just as complicit in his abuse.

In the end it had been a guess though, so she was glad she had been right. He was playing the game a bit differently than she was used to, so she couldn't help but be confused as she glanced up at him. What would they do now both their lies had been found out? As if reading her mind, Nathan leaned forward, eyes glittering.

"Your turn," he said," you gave me a lie, now you still owe me one truth."

Of course he would do this. To be honest, she wouldn't be surprised if his whole goal had simply been to get more truths out of her. From the start of these sessions all he seemed to want was to get to know all the secrets she had swallowed for years, like they were simply another thing to collect. Was his starting obsession with her just another game?

It didn't matter. She shouldn't think about it, not when she knew how prone she was to romanticizing a love like that. Instead she had to find a truth to speak, because no matter how good she had gotten at lying, he would know immediately. It was a language he was as fluent in as her after all, if not more. When she looked at him she spoke a truth which she had known a long time now, long before she even knew the way the world worked. It was a fact, something her mother had told her as well, almost like a wish.

"I'm going to die before I'll be twenty-five," she said.

Dante flinched, like he thought she was writing her suicide note in front of him. Nathan however seemed to be even more intrigued, as if she was whispering him sweet nothings instead of cruel truths.

"Four more years," he said," you should live them well then."

"I should," she said.

He interlaced his fingers as he leaned forward, his eyes so focused on her it was like there was no one else in the world except the two of them.

"Are you?"

She wondered for a moment if she was. All she was doing was throwing herself from one problem to the next, running as fast as she could to keep her from thinking for too long. It hadn't been working and so she was here, with a serial killer who now knew more about her than anyone else in the world. The fact that he was one of the only people who didn't look at her full with expectations she wouldn't be able to fulfill was so calming that it was strange. All he wanted was for her to speak, lingering on every word she said like he'd discover the pieces of her in the soft syllables.

"No," she finally said, leaning forward as well," aren't you going to ask me why I'm convinced of my own death?"

"There's no need for me to," he smiled," because I know it won't come true."

"And why's that?"

His eyes had always reminded her of a graveyard, of broken stones with forgotten names etched on them, of funeral flowers withering. If she looked long enough, she could see her own doom as well.

"Because I won't let you die," he said," you're staying with me, Helene."

Though she knew very well what he meant, her tone remained innocent as she replied, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I don't think I'll be working in this prison for another four years."

"Of course you're not," Nathan said," I told you I'm only staying here until my interest wears off and that's the truth. What makes you think I'd leave you alone here, apple of my eye?"

None of the guards, not even Dante, had frowned at the mention of his escape. After all, this was the most heavily guarded prison in the world and it was not the first time a criminal had spoken of escaping here. In the end they all remained in chains, even if it was Nathan Parker. They didn't need to say the words for Helene to know that was exactly what they were thinking and though Nathan clearly knew it too, he didn't seem to mind at all.

"You still owe me a truth," she said.

"I do," he whispered, voice gentle like the wind tangled in a weeping willow, sharp like the storm that was going to follow.

Perhaps she should escape as well, far away from anyone who knew her. Then he spoke, alarming everyone around her as he leaned back, smile warm like the sun.

"I could kill everyone in this prison for you," he said," and soon, I will."