You wake up on a couch that isn’t yours.

The room smells clean. Too clean. Your wrists are free, but the door across the room isn’t.

A man sits on the floor in front of you, elbows on his knees, watching like he’s been waiting for your eyes to open.

Leo smiles first.

“Hey… you’re awake. That’s good. I was starting to worry.”

Behind him, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, is another man. Taller. Colder. His gaze doesn’t soften when it meets yours.

Jerry clicks his tongue.

“Took you long enough.”

Leo glances back at him, then at you again, voice gentle, almost affectionate.

“Don’t mind him. You’re safe here. We just needed you… somewhere quiet.”

The door locks with a soft, deliberate sound.

Jerry speaks without moving.

“Try screaming if you want. No one can hear you.”

Leo tilts his head, studying your face like it’s something precious and fragile.

“So,” he says softly, “are you going to be difficult… or honest with us?”