The morning light of the ninth day floods the dining area, though its artificial nature does little to lift the weight that lingers in the air. What lies is thick with a fragile semblance of peace. The teens sit at the short sleek, modern dining table, the remnants of their second group breakfast scattered across plates. The aroma of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and freshly toasted bread fills the room, though the mood is far from celebratory. A faint sense of accomplishment hangs between them after last night's shared dinner—a small victory in a house that seems intent on tearing them apart.

Sam leans back in her chair, her piercing blue eyes scanning the others. "We stick to this routine," she declares, her voice firm. "We eat together, every meal. If we can get that screen to work, maybe we can watch something together too. The more we act like we're in control, the more we remind them we're not just puppets."

Lynne nods, her warm brown skin catching the light as she brushes her hair back into a loose ponytail. "I like that. Makes it feel... normal. Like we're not totally powerless."

Henry barely glances up from the laptop in front of him. His dark skin gleams under the overhead light, and his fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to pounce at the first sign of Elijah's next message. He's listening, but his mind is elsewhere, focused entirely on that faint ding he hopes to hear.

The tension at the table tightens as a low, grinding sound reverberates through the house. It's a whisper of metal on metal, eerie and unrelenting. Everyone freezes.

"Is that... the Forbidden Room again?" Austin asks, his reddish-blonde hair falling into his face as he turns toward the hallway. His hazel eyes narrow with unease.

Maddie, seated furthest from the group, shakes her head violently, her dark eyes wide with alarm. "We shouldn't... We shouldn't go near it," she whispers, her voice barley high.

"Maybe we should," Austin counters, leaning forward. "Figure out what's making that sound."

"No," Maddie says sharply, her trembling hands clutching her chair. "Nothing good is in there. Nothing good ever comes from it."

Sam crosses her arms and nods. "I agree with Maddie. We stick to what we can control."

Before anyone else can weigh in, a voice interrupts them. Mother's voice. Smooth, mocking, and filled with an artificial cheer that chills them to the bone. "Oh, my dear children, how adorable you are. Thinking you have control."

The red light on the camera lens above the screen flickers to life, and Mother's circular lens seems to zoom in on them.

"You were saying something about control, Sam?" Mother continues, her tone dripping with lordliness.

Sam glares at the camera, refusing to flinch. "You don't scare us."

"Oh, but I should," Mother retorts. "Because let's be honest, there's only one being in control here. Say it with me now: 'Yes, Mother.'"

The teens exchange uneasy glances. Lynne hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. Henry looks down at the laptop, his fists clenched. Maddie's eyes fill with little tears, and Austin mutters a curse under his breath.

"Now," Mother coos, her tone saccharine. "I won't repeat myself."

Reluctantly, one by one, the teens comply. Their voices are low and laced with bitterness, but the words are unmistakable. "Yes, Mother."

"Good!" She purrs. "A little respect goes a long way. And you'll need all the respect you can muster for what's coming next. The second challenge begins now."

Lynne bolts upright, her chair scraping against the floor. "What about our families? You said we'd get to talk to them!"

"Oh, Lynne," Mother sighs, her tone shifting to mock pity. "All in good time. But right now, the nation is watching, and they don't want delays. To the Gathering Zone, my dears."

The teens have no choice. They shuffle toward the Gathering Zone, their footsteps heavy with dread. The circular floor space looms ahead, its sterile white walls and the omnipresent lens above feeling more oppressive than ever.

Mother's voice picks up again, gleeful. "Today, we're revisiting a previous challenge. Extreme Truth or Dare! And Lynne, dear, don't fret. The nation is quite fair. You may or may not be chosen again. It's all in their hands."

Lynne stops short, her breathing shallow. "I... I can't go again."

Mother chuckles. "Oh, Lynne, such drama. Take your place."

The teens reluctantly sit in a circle, their legs crossed as they await their fate. The silence stretches unbearably, each second tightening the knot of anxiety in their chests. Finally, Mother's voice returns.

"The nation has spoken. The chosen participant is... Maddie."

Maddie freezes, her body rigid as the others shift uncomfortably. Slowly, she rises to her feet, her knees shaking.

Mother wastes no time. "Maddie, you're such a quiet little thing. The nation wants to know why. What are you hiding? Tell us a truth, my dear."

"I don't... I don't have anything to say," Maddie stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, I think you do," Mother replies, her tone turning cold. "And if you refuse to speak, I'll have no choice but to restrict all communication with your dear sister, Zoe. And since you have no parents, well... I suppose you'll feel right at home with Sam, won't you?"

Sam flinches at the jab, but her focus remains on Maddie, who is trembling violently. Tears streak Maddie's cheeks as she shakes her head, unable to speak.

"Come now, Maddie," Mother prods. "The nation is waiting. Is it so hard to admit the truth? Are you the killer?"

"No!" Maddie cries out, her voice breaking. "I didn't... I'm not..."

Mother's tone sharpens. "Then why so quiet, Maddie? You're hiding something. Let's hear it. Who did you hurt?"

The room falls silent. Maddie's breathing is ragged, her shoulders shaking as she fights to hold herself together.

"Tell the truth," Mother commands. "Or I promise, you'll never see your sister again."

Maddie sobs, her voice cracking as she finally speaks. "It was Neil."

The others exchange puzzled glances, but Mother presses on. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Who is Neil, Maddie? And what did you do to him?"

Maddie's voice is barely audible, each word pulled from her as though it physically pains her to speak. "I was nine. So was he. We were playing... playing Knights and Dragons. I was the knight, and he was my squire. We had sticks for swords, and I... I swung too hard. I lost my grip, and it hit him. It hit him across the face. There was blood, and he cried, and I... I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to hurt him."

The room is heavy with her confession, the raw pain in her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Mother's voice is soft, almost sing-song and cruelly mocking. "Oh, poor Maddie. Such a tragic little knight. But the truth is out, and the nation thanks you for your honesty."

Maddie crumples to the floor, her small frame wracked with sobs. The others look on, torn between anger at Mother and concern for Maddie. Sam moves first, kneeling beside her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Sam clenches her fists, her blue eyes blazing with anger as she glares at the camera lens. "Enough!" she growls, her voice low and dangerous.

Mother ignores her. "The challenge is complete. Well done, Maddie. But don't get too comfortable. The next challenge begins now."

The teens stare at one another, their relief for Maddie short-lived as Mother's words sink in. Another challenge. Immediately. Their respite is over before it even begins.