Confusion hits all of the 1/2s in the cafeteria like a tsunami. Everyone visibly tense up and we look around at each other uncomfortably.

"Time is up," the 24 declares after a while. "Go rinse your bowls and utensils and dry them. As always, you will be dismissed by rows. You have 5 minutes each. Now, 1-10."

The row stands up and gets into a single file line. They are led behind the dispensing windows by the 24 and into the kitchen.

When they return, the 24 calls the second row while ordering the first row, "Sit down and hold still."

When my row is called, we form the single file line. As we march past the dispenser windows, I can see Hailey's blank stare and feel a feeling of guilt wash upon me. It was my fault that she is like this. In silence, we rinse our bowls and spoons in lukewarm water and sanitize with a pellet. After the pellet dissolves, we rinse the waste away, some water splashing on us. After doing so, we place the bowls on the drying machines, and they let out a loud roar as they spring to life. Once it finishes, we grab the bowls and stack them in a neat pile. We are then ushered out, and Hailey's row is called. They disappear and I am lost in my thoughts before they are broken by a string of shouting and yelling before silence. When they return, Hailey looks completely beat. Her head is lowered and her entire shirt is drenched completely—and definitely not the amount you would get from washing bowls. As she walks by, she reaches up to wipe the tears staining her cheek away and lets out a loud wince. I dare to turn around and look when the 24 leaves, and I can feel anger rising in my as I look at the large, purple bruise near her cheekbone.

"We are definitely talking later," I grunt, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I glare at everyone in her row before turning around to the displeased 24.

"Would you like to enlighten us on what you were turning around for, 29?" he sneers.

At that comment, I snap and stand up—wanting to punch him—and shout, "Do you not notice that my sister is literally doused in water and has a huge bruise on her cheek? I am trying to check on her!"

He turns white with fury, and I notice Amber and Cameron exchange a worried look out of the corner of my eye.

"What did you say?" he screams, clearly angered by my actions.

A fist comes flying for my face and I attempt to doge it, but it seems to locked on and connect with my jaw, knocking me back. I stumble into my seat and hold my jaw in my hand. Suddenly, as I am about to spring up again to attack him, the room goes silent and I am reminded that this is not about me. It is never about me when there is Amber and Cameron waiting. When Hailey needs me.

"I apologize, sir. It will not happen again," I say, seething.

"It better not," he says and pauses, clearly wanting to add an insult, but chooses to glare instead.

"41-50," he announces again as he turns to face the room after he is done glaring, and I let out a breath.

"What in the world was that?" Cameron shouts at me with a murderous look in his eyes as soon as the 24s leave the resting area, off to do their own things. "What were you thinking? They could have punished you! Do you know how worried we were?"

Ignoring him, I go up Hailey and ask through gritted teeth, "Who did this?"

"It does not matter," she replies.
"Tell me. Now," I say while trying to keep calm, though I can feel myself shaking with annoyance and frustration.

"It is fine, Dylan. I am all right."
"You have a huge bruise right underneath your left eye and soaking wet. I know you are not fine. Tell me who did it," I reply, pained.

"No!"

I sink to the ground, head spinning and my breathing quickening.

Suddenly, she looks worried—I hate how worried and guilty she looks, it is not her fault—and says as if treading on thin ice, "Dylan?"

I close my eyes and lose control of reality.

When I regain my consciousness, I am laying down on my mat, cold sweat dripping down my face. Images flash through my mind—made up thoughts of Hailey being punched, getting water thrown at her, the target to the sharp sting of flying insults—and I inhale sharply, angered again.

"Dylan? Dylan! You are awake! Are you all right? We were so worried. You just fainted and we thought maybe you were really hurt," Amber cheers, the worry disappearing from her face.

As she helps me sit up, I glance at the clock and notice that we have about an hour before the presentation. Maybe we will even have time to discuss it—something tells me it is related to the events happening at the surface, that this is coming to an end, even if we do not like it.

"I am fine. Do not worry. I probably just got too hot or something. I am fine," I reply.

"Hailey! Cameron! Dylan is awake!" she calls.

"We are coming!" Cameron yells back.

With seconds, Cameron is kneeling next to me as Hailey hugs me and says, "I am so sorry, Dylan. I did not mean to hurt you. I just didn't want you to worry. I thought you would have gone and hurt the person who did, and there was no way you would succeed. You would have gotten hurt a lot worse."
I give her a disapproving look as I reply, "I would have, but I can handle myself."
She looks down sadly before answering, "I only did it because I care, Dylan. I did not want you to get hurt because of me. I am sorry."

"It is all right now. Everything is fine. I am fine. Come here," I say while enveloping her in a hug. "You are fine right? It isn't hurting too badly?" I ask after a moment of silence, worried.

She nods and yawns before saying, "I am really tired for some reason. Can I take a nap?"
"Go ahead," I reply before she gets up. "Sleep tight, Hailey. Everything is fine now."

When she is out of earshot, I turn to Cameron and Amber, both sitting with legs crossed next to my mat and say, "This is not good. What presentation could they be talking about? But most importantly, why would they show us?"
Surprised by my sudden change of demeanor—from calm and gentle to serious and slightly agitated—and topic, they are stunned for a moment before Cameron replies, "They have never shown us things like this before. They really should not, which means things are definitely getting worse."
Amber nods as she says and scoffs, "I agree. They must have found him, but what could the presentation be about? Surely not anything that would help us figure anything useful out."

"But it might," Cameron interrupts. "Think about it. None of the 1/2s are adults. None of us even look older than teenagers. There must be an explanation or something. Maybe testing the brains of children like us by putting us through different situations? Have some as 1/2s, some as Lowers, and some as Uppers to see the differences in our development?"
"You think this is an experiment?" Amber asks.

He looks down as he says, "Not specifically an experiment, but maybe something along the line of that? I mean, your guess is probably as good as mine."
"It makes sense," I nod. "But how does that help us find out how we got here? Do they just decide? And how did they decide?"
"You are acting like I know, Dylan. That was just a theory. I do not actually know," he replies.

"Know what?" Hailey asks.

I jolt before stating—not a question, just a statement, "You are awake. How much did you hear?"

"Not much. Do you guys really think this is an experiment?" Hailey says.

"Hailey, please, just go to bed. You are still weak and need sleep to recover," I plead.

"No! You are telling me what this is about!"

"Hailey. Just go to bed," I hear Cameron say, tiredly.

She glares at him but seems to accept that we are not going to tell her. Getting up, she walks away, never looking back, and does not stop until she sits down. Her tears make me feel guilty—guilty for treating her like a child, guilty for not telling her anything, guilty for trying to protect her and being the cause of her pain and tears—but I know it was the best for her. Telling her would have hurt her, and not protect her—and I cannot, and will not, do anything to hurt her.

"Tell you what," I say to Cameron and Amber as I stare at Hailey, "Let's just wait for the presentation. I do not think it is a good idea to talk here anymore."
They nod—agreeing—and move to their mats, each of us consumed by our own thoughts.

"Attention 1/2s! It is time for the presentation. Line up at the door. When we open the door, you will proceed into the Common Room and stand underneath the Counter in your spots. We will count once before we show the presentation. During the presentation, you must sit with your legs crossed. Is that clear?"
Murmurs echoing each other ring throughout the room for a short moment before they stop, and all the 1/2s form a line.

"Very good," the 24 states before the door opens and we are led into the Common Room.

We head to our spots, waiting for the Counter to start. Red beams of light shine down on us, each turning green. When all the beams have turned green, the Counter shuts off and we sit down. A large projector is set up from behind us, aimed at the flat cave wall in front of us. When the 24s turn the projector on, we are confused for an instant, but realization dawns on us as we look at the familiar sight of the Market.

Cameron leans toward me slightly and whispers quietly, "I have a bad feeling about this."

I just shake my head and bite my lips before replying, "Just watch."

He nods and turns to face the screen again as the stands of Market are pushed aside. Amber lets out a tiny whimper when a fruit stand crashes down, breaking with a loud crunch and scattering fruits everywhere.

After a long moment of silence, the 24s begin sectioning out the ground for the Lowers—I can't help but notice how small the sections for the 1s, 2s, and 3s are compared to the 6s. Soon enough, Lowers begin to show up, and the 24s hold them out of the way until they are done setting up. When they finish, the 24 orders the 1s to move, followed by the 2s, 3s, and finally, 6s. Once all of the Lowers are in their respective places, another pair of 24s roughly drag a beaten man and a sickly woman out, with their children—a teenage boy with dirty blonde, curly hair and a small girl with darker blonde, straight and flowy hair—following close behind. The man's face is exactly as it was drawn on the poster, and I let out a shaky breath as I look to Cameron with the realization—he was caught, no question about it. The 24 spews cruel words from her mouth, mocking the man and woman.

When the man is brought up, he dashes and shouts, "We can do this! We have a chance! Let us take control of our own lives! Let us break free!"

He is immediately wrestled from his spot, and his wife is brought up soon after. She causes no commotion except for the sadness in her eyes as the 24 leans in to whisper something. To the horrors of all the 1/2s, the stools are kicked from under them, and they are left hanging with a blank expression of coldness. Amber is now whimpering softly as she hides, leaning against me, and I try my best to comfort her. Wrapping my arms tighter around her and giving her a squeeze, I feel the life and spirit draining out of us as we sit there, watching the terrors continue to unfold. I feel faint at the end of it as the 24s guide the Lowers out, leaving the man and woman there, just hanging. I want to curl up and forget, but I have to be strong for Amber, so I tough it out—waiting until the projector shuts off and we are ordered to return to the resting area—before I start to feel the fear and panic creep in.

Once we are back in the resting area, the 24 announces, "Lunch will be in 30 minutes."

He then turns to leave, and we are left in silence as the panic grows louder and more painful until I snap.

Tears flow on my face, ragged, interrupted breaths and the loud pounding in my head being the only thing I hear until Amber whispers, "Are you all right, Dylan?"
I choke, coughing as Amber pats my back gently, before I reply, "Don't worry about me."

"You are my brother. Of course, I am going to worry about you," she says as she gives me a soft—but sad—smile.

The panic slowly goes away, the adrenaline in my body steadily coming to a stop, and I can breathe again.

"I am fine, now," I reply.

"You have been through a lot today, I know. Just remember that Hailey, Cameron, and I care about you, all right?" Amber says.

I nod as the raging tempest in my heart calms.

"Attention, 1/2s! It is 6:00 PM and therefore, the lunch period. Follow the instructions exactly," the 24 announces.

"I just have to see!" I yell at Amber. "You don't understand. This is really important for us. I need to see if it is true."

"Then I am going with you," says Cameron."Because you are definitely not going alone."

"We already know!" yells Amber. "The man is dead. He was caught and he is dead. There is nothing to see about it."

I nod at Cameron before turning and dashing away—completely ignoring Amber—and Cameron follows close behind me as Amber sighs in frustrations. We run through the entrance, bursting into the fresh air. I immediately go to the Market, sprinting as fast as I can. I stop. The posters are gone. 

I hope you guys enjoyed this ~extra~ long chapter!

I cannot believe it is almost March and that February is almost over. Thank you so much for reading this chapter! If you enjoyed please leave a vote or comment on what you think about this!

Q: This chapter was intense. How do you feel about the increasing tension between, Dylan, his sisters, and Cameron? What do you think they will find out?
A: Obviously, I cannot tell you what they find out. However, Cameron, Dylan, Amber, and Hailey are my favorite group—for their closeness and how they always seem to get through everything because of the love and friendship between them—out of the three groups we have seen (1. Cam, Dyl, Amber, Hailey 2. Raine, Brian, Luna 3. Jason, Mason, Owen + random friends lol) 
Leave your thoughts in the comment below! :) 

See you guys at the next update, and I hope you have a great week until then! The update will be before or on Monday!