With my free hand, I reach for the scalpel still balanced on the table and hold it at my side. "Leave Dr. Wells and help Reece with the security guard," I say in a voice only Jewel can hear.

Jewel looks over, cocking her head before letting Dr. Wells go. Surprised, Dr. Wells scrambles to safety while Jewel turns and jumps on the security guard's back.

Dr. Wells inches forward, grabbing the cannula from the side of the bed before trying to insert it back into my hand.

I remain motionless, my eyes still half-closed. Dr. Wells reattaches the cannula before glancing at Reece, and I grip the scalpel tightly in my palm, my breath coming out in short, quick gasps.

Dr. Wells looks back at the door. She turns, ready to flee, but before she gets the chance, I am sending the scalpel into the side of her stomach. It slides through her abdomen without any resistance, cutting through skin and flesh.

Her eyes widen, her cheeks instantly losing their pinkish color. After a moment or two, she lets out a splutter and then drops to her knees, smacking her head against the tiles.

Nausea stirs deep within my stomach, but I don't have time to feel sick. I rip the cannula out of my hand and loosen the strap on my wrist. When I look back at Dr. Wells, she is completely still.

Through the corner of my eye, I see Reece has his arms around the guard's neck, choking him. After a few minutes, he lets his grip go and the guard falls to the floor.

Jewel gracefully steps over him, undoing the strap around my neck. I sit up straight, feeling somewhat dizzy, but she doesn't waste a moment. She throws her arms around my neck and pulls me closer, burying her face in my hair.

"You came for me," I croak.

"Of course," she says, running a hand through my hair. "Where's Asia?"

I bury my head into the folds of her shirt, fresh tears beginning to appear. "She's gone, Jewel. They auctioned her off."

When I pull away, Jewel's expression has distorted with grief. "At least that means she's alive. There's still a chance we can find her again."

I nod and give her hand a squeeze, a gesture she quickly reciprocates. Before I have time to say anything else, Crystal appears at the door in her guest clothes, leaving any other words on the tip of my tongue.

Her hair, which is normally smooth and perfectly curled at the ends, is knotted and frizzy, her eyes large and wild. "I did a quick check of the hallways," she says, looking at Reece. "There are two guards slowly heading this way. Seem to be doing a routine sweep."

Reece nods before glancing at his watch. "Park's already open," he mutters. "Hayley and Ben will already be making their way to the monorail. We need to get going."

"Wait," I say, still looking at Crystal. The last time I'd seen her she'd been curled on a sofa in one of the apartments, doubled over in pain. "How are you here? How are you able to walk again?"

Crystal looks down at her pale, shaking legs, like she'd forgotten all about them. "Reece and Jewel found me while they were searching for you, and I'm not exactly sure," she says. "They still feel kind of weak, but as soon as Reece took out that thing in my neck, most of the pain went away."

At hearing his name, Reece crosses the room towards me, pulling my arm across his shoulder before helping to lower me off the bed. "I think the device must have been contributing to the pain in your legs," he says.

I close my eyes for a second, relieved. If Reece's theory about the device is right, us losing control of our legs could just be another elaborate lie, another way for Marine World to keep us confined.

I hope.

Once I'm back on my feet, Reece lessens his grip. I drop to my knees, no longer able to hold my own weight. He quickly reaches down and hooks an arm through mine, pulling me back up.

"Come on," he says, his lips pressed against the side of my neck. "Just a little further."

I shake my head, leaning on him for extra support. Every movement feels slow, robotic, as though I am moving underwater. "Dr. Wells might be dead, but that doesn't mean this is over," I say, my voice sounding hoarse. "There are still countless other doctors running around this place. We can't let any more girls become experiments, Reece. We have to do something."

"Do what?" Jewel asks, glancing at the door. I can tell from her expression that she just wants to get out of here, and a part of me doesn't blame her. But another part of me can't stand the thought of obtaining my freedom while other girls are still being stripped of theirs.

I look towards Reece, studying his expression for some kind of answer. His eyes are dark, his eyebrows drawn as though he knows what I'm thinking.

"We can show the world the truth," he says quietly.

I press my lips to the side of his neck, relishing in the warmth of his skin. "We could do it anonymously," I whisper, holding him tight. "You wouldn't have to get into any trouble."

Reece nods, though I can tell from the fierce look in his eyes that he no longer cares about that. "We'll need evidence," he says, his voice sounding gravelly. "People aren't going to believe it, otherwise."

I pause for a moment, glancing at the puddle of blood now surrounding Dr. Wells. "Her phone," I say. "She always used it to record footage of our experiments. There has to be something on there we can use."

I carefully crouch onto the balls of my feet, reaching inside of her lab coat. After combing through various pockets, I pull away empty-handed.

"Her office is on the same floor," Reece says, helping me back up again. "If it's not on her, it'll most likely be in there."

I take a deep breath and stumble after him, stepping over scattered instruments to get to the doorway. Outside, the hallway splits off into four different directions. It is a labyrinth of corridors; one I fear we may never escape.

"This way," Reece says, nodding his head to the left. He grabs my hand, his palm feeling warm and solid in my own.

We tiptoe past more doors like the one we just came from, while Crystal and Jewel trail behind us. I don't want to think about what else might be down here, what other bodies lie butchered inside secret rooms. I just want to find the evidence, take what is left of the people I love, and get out of Marine World for good.

The hallway leading to Dr. Wells' office is shorter than the others. We get to a door with a single gold plaque, the words Dr. A. Wells engraved into the metal.

Inside, her office is nothing at all like how I'd imagined it to be. Dr. Wells always seemed so organized, so efficient, and yet the long, wooden desk is cluttered with junk: papers and old coffee cups line the far wall, along with scrunched up balls of paper and empty soda cans. A plastic cup overflows with old cigarettes, and the remains of a half-eaten apple sits perched on top of an open coffee flask.

Stretching across the back wall is another floor-to-ceiling aquarium, but the water in this tank is old and cloudy.

"Jeez," Jewel says. "Who knew Dr. Wells was such a slob?"

I ignore her and step forward, taking in the photo frames lining the desk. In one picture, Dr. Wells is standing outside of the palace with two young children, wearing a t-shirt and shorts instead of her usually white lab coat. I pick it up to study it closer, my chest tightening. I can't imagine Dr. Wells as a mother; I can't imagine her as anything other than a murderer of innocent girls.

The table has a built in drawer. I pull at the brass handle and it creaks open slightly. Even in the dim light, I can see the outlines of a notebook, a pen, and a phone. I grab each item and pass them to Reece, who stuffs them into his bag.

"Can we please go now?" Crystal asks. "Someone could come back at any moment."

I nod, about to move when something in the aquarium catches my eye. I scan the glass, certain I'd spotted something. After a second or two, the same dark shadow darts across the glass, the silhouette of a tail unmistakable.

"What the–" Jewel gasps, but the rest of her sentence seems to fall off her tongue.

We are silent, all of us, transfixed by the creature behind the glass. She is around our age, with dark, matted hair and skin so translucent I can see the blue veins underneath it.

Her long tail is gray and mottled. Though it is dark on her side of the glass, I can see her incisions aren't angry or raised like the other girls I'd found. Instead, they are silverish, flat, as though they have long since healed.

I take a step forward, stopping just short of the window. My heart is pounding, my legs shaking as though they may suddenly give way. The girl cocks her head slightly, searching my face with a curious expression. When I blink again, she is pressed right up to the window, her long, thin fingers spread wide against the glass.

I jump back, startled. Her lips curl into a painful smile, revealing sharp, filed down teeth. She is the complete opposite of what the girls and I were designed to be. She's not beautiful or graceful or made to be eye-pleasing. She is grotesque, somewhat nightmarish–she is the next generation.