Never in my entire life did I expect to find my parents tied to a steel chair in the center of a desolate white room.

My heart dropped seeing them in this situation and my hands felt clammy from sweat.

Kiera Roth, mom, looked nothing like the woman who slapped and dragged me across the dining hall a few hours ago. The proud and snarky air she carried before was gone, her hair was disheveled, face pale as a ghost, her eyes looked blank.

I shifted my gaze and landed on my dad, Ben. Just as restrained as my mom with steel bars binding their wrists on the chair’s armrest....