Page 62 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

Could those gentle notes have come from the same voice that sentenced me to this hell? A mother's love turned to betrayal, like Riot's story but with different shadows.

The thought of that –of someone singing sweet songs while planning my destruction – sends a shiver through my body.

The voices grow agitated, whispering warnings about trust, family, and bonds that break.

"I doubt it."

Riot's voice cuts through the darkness, surprising me. I turn my head, trying to locate her in the pitch black now that the fluorescent lights are off. Finally, I make out her form, my vision enhancing until I can see her crystal clear. Night vision seems to be one of the traits you need to continue to survive here, but maybe I was the only one subjected to such injectables since it doesn’t seem these girls have been here as long as I have to acquire it.

That or they have yet to fix the after-effects of bleeding eyes that lead to shock and death.

Riot is lying on her side, facing me from across the room, her piercings catching what little light remains in the tiny bulbs at the top corner that blinks on and off like a timer of sorts.

"What makes you say that?" I ask softly, not wanting to wake the others.

"Looking at you," she says, her usual sharp tone softened by darkness and shared confinement. "Just...something about you. I don't think your family could be that cruel."

"Why?"

She shifts slightly, metal clinking against concrete.

"One thing I know about Ravenscroft…they have to contact family when an omega dies here."

The information hits like a punch to the gut. The voices fall silent, processing this new piece of the puzzle.

"Why would they do that?"

Before Riot can answer, I find myself checking on the others out of a new habit.

Azurite lies curled on her side, her heterochromatic eyes hidden in sleep, looking almost peaceful despite our circumstances. Luna sleeps on her back, face turned slightly upward as if listening even at rest.

It makes sense – that position would let her catch any sounds or vibrations from above or below, her other senses working even while she dreams.

Returning my attention to Riot rewards me with the slight shift in the darkness, her piercings catching the dim light once more as she explains.

"It's all about money," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "The families get paid while we're here. Regular deposits, like some fucked up pension plan for selling their omega child to torture."

My voices whisper in disappointment, but I ignore the tiny ripples of uncertainty that hum through my body.

Pretend my heart isn’t clenching at the near possibility of my own family doing this for the sake of money.

"Some get more than others. Depends on what they're looking for in their test subjects, I guess. What traits they want to study." She lets out a bitter laugh. "Or maybe it's just whoever negotiates the best deal. Like haggling at a market, but the merchandise is your own flesh and blood."

My stomach turns at the thought. The voices grow agitated, their whispers taking on a sharp edge of fury.

"But sometimes," Riot adds, her tone shifting to something almost contemplative, "sometimes the families actually need the money. Not that it makes it right, but..." She pauses, yawning."It's sinister when you think about it. You being offered in exchange for money that can be used on a younger or older sibling that your family favors."

When you think about it, there are plenty of possibilities that can be considered here. None of them are really morally right, but obviously possible because of how Ravenscroft continues to thrive, despite their sinister and hidden intentions for us Omegas.

Those fragments of memory -the mirror image with different eyes, the shared laughter turned to silence- take on a new, horrifying meaning.

"A twin," I whisper, the revelation making my chest tight. "If I really do have a twin sister..."

I can't finish the thought, but Riot seems to understand anyway. The shadows paint pictures in my mind: two identical girls, one perhaps sickly or needing expensive care. Parents faced with an impossible choice -sacrifice one daughter to save the other.

But even as the scenario forms, something feels wrong about it.

The voices hiss disagreement, insisting there's more to my story than simple family economics.

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