Chapter 3

"What is going on here! Don't you have training to do?"

A stern voice carried across from the other end of the field.

Professor Patterson came striding through the blazing sun, roster in hand.

He took one look at the scattered formation.

Then the tarp-sealed ventilation opening.

Then the dark red puddle on the ground.

His brow knotted into a deep furrow.

"Coach Caldwell, what is the meaning of this?"

"Where is Sophie Harper?"

Professor Patterson's gaze fell on the iron door.

Ethan didn't move from where he stood. His tone remained flat.

"Inside. Reflecting on her behavior."

Professor Patterson's expression changed instantly. He marched forward.

"In this heat, you locked a student in a storage room with no air conditioning?"

"Someone could die in there!"

He spun around and glared at Ethan.

"Hand over the key immediately and open that door!"

Ethan looked at this professor who stood half a head shorter than him.

"Professor Patterson, I'm the externally hired assistant coach."

"And the on-site supervisor for this boot camp."

"My job is to enforce discipline."

"This is my training method. Outsiders should stay out of it."

Professor Patterson was livid.

"This is corporal punishment! This is abuse!"

"Can you take responsibility if something happens?"

"Open it. Now!"

Ethan let out a cold smirk.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the U-lock key.

As everyone watched in stunned silence, his fingers loosened.

The key dropped through the grate of the nearby drainage grill.

Down into the pitch-black sewer.

Professor Patterson stood frozen.

"You… what are you doing?!"

Ethan spread his palms open.

"Oh, Professor. So sorry. Butterfingers."

"Key's gone."

"Since that's the case, we'll just have to wait until boot camp's over to get someone to saw through the lock."

"She'd rather stay in there than apologize anyway."

"Might as well let her reflect a little longer."

Chloe immediately chimed in.

"Professor, don't blame Ethan."

"The key really did slip by accident."

"Sophie's always had a terrible temper back in the dorm."

"The tiniest thing sets her off—slamming doors, throwing things."

"She definitely heard everything just now, and she didn't make a sound."

"She's absolutely just being a princess right now."

"She wants to make everyone look bad on purpose."

Professor Patterson was white with fury.

He slammed his palm against the door panel twice and shouted through the iron.

"Sophie! If you can hear me, say something!"

"I'm going right now to get security with tools to open this door!"

"If you refuse to cooperate, I'll report this directly to the administration!"

"You'll get a major demerit!"

Dead silence from inside.

Only a stifling wave of air, tinged with the smell of blood, seeped slowly through the gap.

The teammates who'd been standing in the sun for two hours finally snapped.

"Sophie, just come out already! Stop dragging us into this!"

"Seriously, because of you, we're all out here roasting!"

Wave after wave of accusations crashed against the storage shed.

Surrounding it.

My consciousness had gone completely dark.

Blood was still slowly seeping out, drying into blackened crusts.

My lips had split open.

My breathing was growing shallower and shallower.

I could barely tell if I was still alive.

I don't know how much time passed—maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour.

An old man pushing a cleaning cart ambled over.

He was about to empty the garbage bin beside the storage shed.

But his steps halted abruptly.

Old Jim sniffed the air.

His eyes followed the ground to the dried, blackened puddle beneath the door gap.

"Something ain't right…"

Old Jim muttered to himself and dropped his broom.

He crouched by the door gap and sniffed hard.

The next second, his face changed completely.

"Good God! That smell ain't right!"

Old Jim shouted in his raspy voice.

Ethan was sitting under a shade umbrella drinking water. Hearing the noise, he frowned with irritation.

He stood and walked over.

"Old man, this doesn't concern you."

"Go sweep somewhere else."

"It's just a girl in there throwing a tantrum and playing dead."

"Nothing's wrong."

Old Jim was stamping his feet in agitation.

"You don't know shit! I spent my whole life in a slaughterhouse—you think I can't tell?"

"That ain't red ink!"

"That's the smell of blood—heavy blood!"

"Something's happened in there!"

Just then, the campus doctor happened to be crossing the field on his way to swap shifts at the infirmary.

He heard the commotion and immediately pushed through the crowd.

Dr. Rosen didn't bother with Chloe's excuses. He crouched down directly.

With a gloved finger, he touched the liquid on the ground and raised it to his nose.

One second. That was all it took.

Dr. Rosen's face went sheet-white.

He shot to his feet and grabbed the walkie-talkie from his belt.

His trembling finger pressed the call button.

"Security office! Security office! Bring breaching tools to the south field storage room immediately!"

Ethan's face went completely dark.

He lunged forward and snatched the walkie-talkie from Dr. Rosen's hand.

Crack.

He smashed it against the concrete.

It shattered on impact.

"Who gave you permission to destroy school property?"

Ethan jabbed a finger at Dr. Rosen's face, his voice ice-cold.

"I'm the one who locked her in there. Anything that happens is on me!"

"I don't need you people spreading hysteria!"

Dr. Rosen stared at the smashed walkie-talkie on the ground, his eyes bloodshot.

He shoved Ethan aside.

Like a cornered animal, he threw himself at the iron door.

He gripped the sun-scorched U-lock with both hands and pulled with everything he had.

His palms blistered red from the burning metal—he didn't even notice.

Ethan stumbled back two steps, about to lash out.

But Dr. Rosen whipped around.

He held up his gloves—smeared thick with dark, sticky blood.

And screamed at the top of his lungs to the entire field.

"This isn't menstrual blood!"

"Someone is dying in there! Break down this door NOW!"