Regan's POV

They put me in a small room, plain walls, air conditioned, a metal table, and a chair that felt like it was made for torture.

My wrists were cuffed to a loop in the table, not enough to cut circulation, but enough to remind me I wasn't going anywhere.

There was also a big mirror on the wall by my right hand. I knew it was one-way. They were watching me from behind it. I could feel it.

A camera blinked red from one corner of the ceiling.

I leaned back and stared at it for a ...