Reece jerks us down a side road, pulling up next to a small building with the words Jug's Bar written in big, neon letters. I take in the parking lot, examining the rows of cars with a feeling of apprehension.

"What do you mean by find a new car?" I ask, swiveling to face Reece. He ignores me and climbs out, leaving me sitting in the passenger seat. I watch him scour the parking lot, slinking up to car doors and pulling on the handles, only to find they're locked shut. His lips move quickly through the dark; I know he is cursing in irritation.

As Reece continues to prowl the parking lot, a pick-up truck pulls up beside me. The old, bearded driver kills the engine before taking his keys and tucking them into the sun visor. I slink out of the passenger seat as he makes his way toward the bar, sliding up to his truck and smiling when the door clicks open.

In the distance, Reece continues to dart around through the dark. I grab the keys before calling his name. He looks up, his eyebrows raised when he sees me dangling the keys mid-air.

The journey to wherever we're going is silent. I watch as the garish pink air freshener swings back and forth from the rear-view mirror, wondering where we're going to end up this time. What I want more than anything is to be able to sleep for a while, but it would feel wrong to do so when I know Reece can't, so I force myself to stay awake, focusing on the number of blue cars I see on the road as we drive.

I've counted almost two hundred by the time we arrive. Reece pulls up to a large, circular driveway, where two men stand outside of a Hotel La Blue sign wearing crisp, black suits. Reece pulls up beside them, stepping out of the driver's seat before offering the nearest man his newly acquired car keys. I follow suit, sidling up to Reece before nudging his shoulder with my own.

"Don't worry," he says, leading us through to the lobby. "We'll get it back after our stay."

He doesn't wait for a response. He strides up to the front desk to talk to the efficient-looking blonde while my eyes roam the lobby, taking in its grandeur. This place is nothing like the motel we first stayed in, but like a place I imagined existed only in fairy tales.

The floor is a fine marble, the walls a muted gold that glistens in the light streaming in from the patio windows. I slowly turn to take it all in, spotting the aquarium across the far wall. It's filled with hundreds of sea creatures, from sting rays and sharks to lobsters and fish, a hue of different colors and species against a backdrop of blue.

They used to be me. I was the stingray behind the glass, the shark caged for entertainment. I am the only one here who understands them–who knows what it's like not to have a voice.

I head toward it, watching as a stingray spreads its fins and glides up the glass to meet me. He looks like he's smiling, but I can see the sadness behind those eyes. It's the same look the girls had given me in the viewing tunnel, and I conjure up images of them behind this very glass, trying to swim their way to freedom.

"Aura?" I glance at Reece, who is peering at me with

concern. "I've called your name three times. Are you all right?"

I turn back to the aquarium, expecting to see Asia and Jewel before me, but only the stingray stares back. "I'm fine."

"Come on," Reece says, grabbing my hand. "We're on the twelfth floor."

I follow him across the lobby in silence, into a fancy elevator that shoots up to the twelfth floor. "Check in isn't supposed to be until three," Reece says as I study myself in the mirror opposite, "but I managed to persuade the receptionist to give us the room early."

Despite my irritation, I watch myself smile at this, my eyes lighting up in a way I'm certain they never used to. It is the same twinkle I'd often catch in Muriel's eyes whenever she'd talk about a book she enjoyed. A twinkle so fleeting it's hard to recognize and even harder to fake, no matter how good at pretending we are.

"I'm sure you did," I say, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. Our clothes are crumpled, our hair unruly messes, but my complexion remains as clear as a droplet of water, untainted by the symptoms of sleep deprivation that have laid their mark on Reece. It is just another reminder that I am not human in the same way he is. I am altered, born to be admired like those stingrays in the aquarium. The thought forces me to turn my head in shame.

When the doors open, Reece and I make our way to room 1245, a room so big I can't help but stand in the arch of the doorway. I take in the two double beds and their crisp, white sheets. Yellow light streams through the balcony windows, reflecting off the pool outside and casting distinctive lines across Reece's tired face.

"This is way nicer than the motel," I say.

"More expensive, too," Reece replies, dropping his bag to the floor before switching on the kettle. I collapse onto the nearest bed, my muscles relaxing as I sink into the the covers. The last thing I remember before I drift off to sleep is the screaming sound of the kettle.