I raced down through the levels, repeating the letters to Tim’s cell like a prayer. I had no idea how I was going to get him out, but I was going to figure it out.

I couldn’t believe how close I was to finally seeing him again. It had been eight years - he would be sixteen now.

While I had been in the re-education centers, I'd often fantasized about being reunited with him. They were silly, but I'd found myself wondering how tall he was now. Would he be taller than me? What had happened to him after he fell in the river? Was he all right? Did he remember me?

That last one worried me a lot. That, and if he did remember me, did he forgive me for that night that he was captured?

Of course, that had been when I believed as everyone else did—that he had been sent to the mines. Now that I knew he was being used as some scientists’ lab rat, I only cared that he was okay. If he wasn’t, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

I entered the lower level, impatiently shoving the door open so hard that it clanged loudly as it impacted the wall. The sound reverberated in the room, the echo of it coming from several directions.

I ignored it and ran down the catwalk. It took me a matter of minutes to reach Row Fifty-five. I bypassed all of the other cubes, shining my flashlight at each one, even though I knew “B” was the first one on the right side.

Once there, I deftly grabbed the remote, and input the commands. I tapped my foot impatiently as the ramp extended. As soon as the ramp connected with the cube, I hit the button locking the clamps in place, and crossed over.

Shining my flashlights in the window, I saw him.

He was sitting in the corner, his arms around his knees, staring blankly ahead. His black hair was longer, curling down around his shoulders. He was bigger, more muscular, but pale. I could make out the slightest bit of a beard growing in along his jaw and upper lip. His face was gaunt, cheeks sunken in, bags under his eyes.

It was like looking at a stranger. Gone was the baby-faced boy who had held my hand as he marveled at the stars and the beauty of the world around him. In his place was a young man who had clearly suffered. I didn’t know him, and I didn’t know what he had been through.

My arms ached to hug him. To wrap him in them and shelter him from the horrors that plagued him. Guilt wracked me as I looked at him. I pressed my hand on the window, trying to will him to look at me. Would he even remember me? Did he hate me?

Doubts danced through my head, but I tamped them down. It didn’t matter how he felt about me. I loved him, and I was going to do everything in my power to get him out of that box.

I looked down at the buttons in front of me and bit my lip. All of my earlier concerns about not messing with the buttons were quickly evaporating in the face of seeing Tim again. But in spite of what Viggo said, I wasn’t sure I could justify pressing those buttons in the hopes that they would let him out. Not if it meant him suffering more.

I rubbed my fingers together and examined the buttons on the panel. They were all the same size and color—gray—with a soft glowing blue light to illuminate them.

I looked over to where my brother was sitting in the corner. “I hope this works,” I croaked, knowing he couldn’t hear me.

Hands reached out and snagged my wrist before I could touch the panel. Turning, I gaped at Ms. Dale.

“What are you doing here,” I hissed, jerking my hand from her grip.

She turned and looked through the window, a small frown playing on her face.

“I had no idea…” she whispered, her brown eyes studying my brother.

I frowned, clenching my fist. The rage was back, looking for someone to turn on. I bit it back, bitter taste and all.

“Why are you here?” I replied, taking a deep breath.

She was examining the panel now, her eyes probing. “I told Viggo I might be able to help you. Her fingers stroked lightly at the keys and my heart jumped.

“Don’t,” I said sharply, and she froze. Her eyes turned back to me and she frowned.

“Violet, I don’t want to hurt your brother,” she said patiently, her voice soft. “I’m trying to determine where the control box is on this.”

I fidgeted, torn between my distrust of Ms. Dale and my desire to see Tim freed. “You really think you can get him out?” I asked.

Ms. Dale hesitated and turned back to me. “I’m not an electrician, Violet. I’ve had some experience, but this is a bit beyond me. However, I will do everything I can to help you get him out. But I need you to understand—I might trigger some things while I am doing this. He might get hurt. I just figure… it’s better if I hurt him, than you.”

My stomach clenched, and I resisted the urge to punch her. The rational part of my mind recognized that Ms. Dale was telling me the truth so that I would be prepared. And I was grateful for that. I had no idea what I was doing, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he died while I was trying to free him. But the emotional side of me wanted to keep hitting her until she stopped moving if anything happened to Tim.

I sucked in a deep breath, and then nodded. I took a step back and crossed my arms, watching.

Ms. Dale examined the panel for several minutes, stroking the concrete walls around it and under it. I crossed my arms, my patience beginning to wear thin, when I heard an audible click.

A piece of the wall disappeared under her fingers, revealing a lit area, filled with wires. She examined the wires closely.

“There are a lot of wires. I’m not sure what all of them lead to. I think one of these green ones might be to a door mechanism, but I’m not sure. May I pull one?”

I hesitated, and then nodded. “Do it,” I whispered, flinching at the harshness of my own voice.

She nodded and then pulled a wire.

Immediately, something flashed yellow, and letters began scrolling from left to right across the glass.

Stress Test—Level 1—Initiating Test.

Immediately, a blinding white light came on in the box. I looked at Tim, whose eyes had gone wide. I watched as he immediately slapped both hands over his eyes. Ms. Dale straightened up, reading the screen.

With a curse, she squatted back down, her fingers sifting through the multitude of wires.

The lights started flickering rapidly, the colors shifting and throbbing. Just looking at it from this side made me nauseas.

“Ms. Dale?”

“I’m sorry, Violet. It was the wrong wire. I’m trying to follow it to see if there’s a kill switch. Watch him and let me know if he’s in any danger.”

Even with his eyes covered, it was clearly still having an effect on Tim. He was shaking his head, his mouth open and locked in a silent scream. My stomach churned as I watched him. Whatever he was experiencing in there was clearly hurting him. I looked at the keypad, but the panel had gone black. On the screen, more rolling test appeared—Test in Progress—two minutes remaining.

I slammed my hands on the window, trying to get Tim’s attention, to give him something to focus on, but he didn’t seem to hear or notice.

I watched him rock back and forth, screaming, until he stood up. He began banging on the walls, keeping his eyes closed.

I kept one eye on the timer and one on him, my hands pressed on the glass.

“Hurry up,” I screamed toward Ms. Dale. His pain was breaking me, in a multitude of ways. She didn’t respond, but I could feel her moving next to where I was sitting.

The lights were increasing their strobes, and my eyes started to hurt from it, but I kept my gaze on Tim. Eventually, he bent over at the waist and began retching, expelling the contents of his stomach on the corrugated floor.

Then he collapsed, curling up into a ball, trying to shield himself from the lights. A few seconds later they shut off, bathing him in darkness again.

I was aware of tears streaking down my cheek. I was sick to my stomach at what I had witnessed. “I’m sorry Violet—I couldn’t find the mechanism to stop it,” Ms. Dale said quietly from where she was positioned.

I closed my eyes and fought for control. A dark part of me blamed Ms. Dale, but in my heart, I knew she was doing what she could to help me. And yet…

Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I looked at Tim, conflict tearing through me. Maybe it would be better to leave him in there for now. At least until we could find some sort of guide to tell us how to open the door.

As soon as I thought that though, I realized it couldn’t wait. Not with the two unconscious princesses upstairs. They would eventually be missed or escape, and if they managed that, and figured out who Tim was to me, they would use him against me to get what they wanted.

Not to mention, when the scientists who lived in the facility returned—if they returned—they would subjugate him to these tests over and over again. Better to hurt him now to free him, I wasn’t going to leave him here a moment longer.

Gritting my teeth, I looked down at Ms. Dale. “Keep trying,” I whispered to her.

“Maybe you should go,” she suggested. “I’ll keep working here but… maybe it would be better if you didn’t see.”

I frowned and then shook my head. “I’m not leaving him again,” I declared. I was determined to stay right here until the door opened.

Ms. Dale nodded, her face an impassive mask. She turned back to the wires. “I’m going to pull another wire,” she announced, and my fist clenched.

“Do it.”

I heard her grunt and the sound of a spark filled the air. The panel went dark again, and the window screen lit up, text rolling across the surface.

Endurance Test—Level 1—Initiating Test.

I bit back a cry at the words, slamming my fist against the glass.

“Close your eyes, Violet,” said Ms. Dale, from where she was busy trying to find the wire to stop the test.

I ignored her, pressing my face close to the glass. I needed to know, even if I didn’t want to know.

Water began to pour down from the ceiling, the force of it splashing water everywhere.

Tim’s head lolled under the torrential waterfall in the middle of the room, his hair already wet. The room was filling up fast.

He picked himself up, his movements relaying the state of exhaustion he was in.

I watched as he leapt up and grabbed on to a pipe on the ceiling. He hung there, looking down and waiting. He looked so resigned, like he had been through this thousands of times before.

It bothered me that he never looked out the window. It was like he knew it wouldn’t do any good to try and plead with whoever was on the other side. I could imagine him trying many times, only to be met with blank stares of indifference.

The water was now at his ankles. Tim didn’t panic—he didn’t waste any energy fighting what was happening. He merely hung there, watching the water patiently as it rapidly rose. It reached his neck in a minute. I watched him expel a long breath and then suck in a lungful of air just before the water reached the ceiling.

He didn’t move after that. His eyes were closed, his black hair floating all around his face. I watched a timer click on, counting up from zero.

I held my breath as I watched the numbers climb. First a minute, then two. At two and half, my nervousness increased. How long was this going to last?

When it hit three and a half minutes, I began to pound on the glass, determined to break it. “Help me,” I said to Ms. Dale.

She looked up at me from the wires, her face reflecting her own frustration. “I can’t,” she said, helplessly.

“He’s dying!”

She stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. “He won’t die,” she insisted. “There will be safe guards to prevent it.”

I jerked out of her grasp, tears dripping down my cheeks. “You don’t know that.”

Ms. Dale nodded, her face melting back into the impassive mask. “Yes, I do. Whatever they were doing down here, they wouldn’t let him die so easily. Test subjects aren’t that easily replaced.”

I flinched at the harshness of her words, but in a strange way, they comforted me. She was right, but it didn’t make what was happening okay. My gaze flicked over to Tim and the timer, holding my breath as the numbers climbed up to the four-minute mark.

At four minutes, I saw Tim open his eyes. He slowly pushed air from his lungs, little bubbles running past his face.

He seemed so calm. I, however, started screaming, tears running down my face as I began beating against the window in earnest. Ms. Dale tried to hold me back, but I shrugged her off, my hand fumbling for the gun in my pants.

A bio-monitor came online. I watched as his heart beat slowed, and then stopped.

My brother was dead.

“No,” I shouted, pulling the gun free of my pants, and unloading it into the glass.

Ms. Dale’s fists swept up and knocked the gun out of my hands. I stared at her in disbelief.

“How could you?” I hissed, stooping to retrieve the gun.

She took a careful step back, lifting her cuffed hands up, palms out.

“You could compromise the cube, Violet, which might make it disconnect from the beam above.”

I glanced up at the beam, anger writhing in my stomach. I opened my mouth, intent on shouting that it didn’t matter, when there was a whirring sound coming from the box. I turned, and watched as the water immediately drained from the room. Tim’s body landed heavily on the floor, his eyes wide and vacant. My hands were shaking as I covered my mouth.

There was a zapping sound, and Tim’s body gave a little jerk. Then, he blinked. Immediately, he began expelling the water from his lungs onto the floor, sucking in deep breaths of air.

That was enough for me. I staggered back a few steps and vomited, bracing myself on the handrail.

I was disgusted beyond rational thought. And I wasn’t letting Ms. Dale pull any more wires. I was going to rip that cube apart rather than subject my brother through one more of those hideous test.

Looking over at the wires, I felt the white hot rage from earlier filling me. Before Ms. Dale could stop me, I reached over and grabbed a handful of the wires and yanked, pulling as many of them out as I could.

Sparks flew and I jumped back. The key pad went dark, and there was a humming sound coming from the box. Heart in my throat, I looked up to make sure Tim was okay, and I noticed more words flashing on the screen.

System malfunction—Test Subject 55 B in danger from faulty equipment—Initiate relocation protocol? Y/N?

My eyes grew wide. Whatever I had done had triggered something, but the panel was broken. How was I going to initiate the relocation protocol?

Ms. Dale came up from behind me and reached out to touch the ‘Y’ button on the screen. It went green under her finger, and there was a hissing sound.

I took a step back, and watched, wide-eyed, as the glass pane got sucked up into the concrete. There was a grating sound, of stone on stone, and a small gap appeared just under the window, creating a narrow door.

Without hesitating, I stepped through.

“Tim?” I gasped, looking at where my brother was still laying on the floor, water still streaming off him.

He didn’t react, not even a flicker of movement from his eyes or body.

I bit my lower lip and moved closer to him. “Timothy? It’s me. It’s Violet.”

Nothing. Licking my lips, I settled myself on the floor in front of him. “I’m your sister. We’ve been apart for a long time, but I’m here now.”

Still nothing. I fought the urge to cry, but tears still slipped from my eyes as I looked down at my brother.

“It’s my fault you’re here,” I whispered. “If I had just planned everything better, you would be safe in Patrus. You wouldn’t have had to go through this nightmare. But I promise you, baby brother, I am going to get you out of here, and I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.”

I watched him for a long time, looking for any trace of movement. He remained perfectly still, his eyes focused on a spot somewhere behind me, his chest rising and falling in deep even breaths.

My lower jaw convulsed as my guilt mounted. Eventually, I began to sob in earnest, burying my face in my hands.

“Please,” I begged him, wanting him just to look at me. To show me somewhere, deep inside, he was still there.

I didn’t know how long I sat there crying, when I felt something touch my hand.

Lifting my head, I gazed into my brother’s eyes.

His eyes were cloudy and confused. “Violet,” he whispered, his voice raw and deep.

I threw my arms around him and held him tightly. He was stiff under my arms, tension radiating out from him. I didn’t care—I hugged him anyway. I never wanted to let him go.

I heard Ms. Dale cough and I turned my gaze toward her. She was looking through the door opening at us. “I’ll… I’ll go back up to Mr. Croft,” she said quietly.

Wordlessly, I nodded, tears still streaming from my eyes. She hesitated for another moment. “I’m glad you found your brother,” she added, as she turned to leave.

I was too, but I was also worried for him—whatever had been done to him while he was here… he would carry the scars forever. I cried harder, trying to feel strong for him, but feeling helpless myself.