I didn’t sleep.

The bare bulb stayed on. I left it that way. Darkness would have made the walls feel closer, and I already felt like the room was breathing around me. The mattress was thin. Springs dug into my back every time I shifted. My wrists still carried the red marks from the zip ties. I kept rubbing them without thinking, like I could erase the proof that three men had decided my life belonged to them now.

Outside the door the clubhouse never fully went quiet. Bass thumped through the concrete. Voices rose and fell. Once I heard a woman laugh, high and loose, then the sound of...