Trying

Carson hates listening to the phone call. He hates hearing the other voice. He hates hearing plans to hurt Katie.

As the call ends, he works his jaw muscles, not sure what to do now. The call seemed clean... Phinox seemed to be telling the truth at least on that end of things. But how were they supposed to know that it wasn't all a setup?

"I don't like it, Phinox," he growls. "You've proven you're one of them, and that's about it."

Hearing the question of the next step, he throws Nate a withering look. "It's torture, Nate... use your imagination."

Turning back to Phinox, he releases his hand, but doesn't put his gun back. "Alright. We're not going anywhere until you tell us everything you know about this. You convince us you can actually help, we won't throw you in the holding cell. One wrong move and you get locked up - if you're really on our side and want to help, then you know getting locked up wouldn't do anybody any good."

His eyes narrow to slits. "Where are they holding her?"


While time is quickly passing at one end of TJY, at the other, it couldn't be moving slower. But who would know? Nothing can be heard through soundproof walls. No one can be seen, when movements only seem to be imagined shadows. They come and they go. Fifty-seven minutes is all it takes.

Scott lies in the corner of the interrogation room, curled up tightly on his side. Blood ran from the deep split in his lip, and the bruises on his face were quickly darkening. He moves but winces, his ribcage cracked and so sore. He would call out if he thought it would do any good, but he knew that no one could hear him.

A silent tear drips onto the floor. He lets his eyes fall shut, trying to block the pain... trying to block the anguish.