(Layra)

  Ama was expelled today. It is strange to me—why didn’t she say goodbye to anyone, not even her closest friend? Was she forbidden? Or did she choose not to?

  The school loudspeakers announce lights-out at ten o’clock. I cannot sleep. Ama’s sobs are etched into my mind like a soundprint carved into stone. In bed, I twist restlessly. After a few minutes, Nora whispers: “Hey, hey, Layra…” I turn, answering with a sharpness that even startles me: “What is it?” She notices my broken state. As if my harsh tone meant nothing, she asks softly: “Are you okay?” Shame burns me. She was worried, and I answered like that. I murmur: “No, Nora… Ama’s crying…” Her face grows sorrowful. She says gently: “I understand. Maybe you should get some air.”

  I nod. Rising, I walk quietly toward the yard. I have never left the dorm at night.

  The air is cool, the breeze tender. But the comfort is short-lived. A familiar cry coils in my head. My body trembles. The sound is too vivid to be a hallucination. My heart races. A second scream jolts me. Ama’s voice.

  A third scream. Then pleading.

  The voices rise from the basement. What horror are they inflicting on her? I descend the long staircase, reaching a green door. Through its small window, I see:

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  A massive steel machine glows in the center. Cold lights flood the room. The tall, skeletal-faced man I had seen in the assembly drags Ama by her hair, cursing loudly. Every few steps, he kicks her spine so hard her cries pierce the air.

  Ama begs: “Please… don’t do this to me. I told my parents yesterday I’d come home. I beg you…” Another kick. Another roar: “Shut up, filth!”

  With brutal force, he hurls her into the machine. A scream erupts—so shrill it shreds the ears. Her body fractures, dissolves, vanishes.

  I want to scream. Vomit. Tear apart every soul in this cursed school. But my body is frozen, glued to the floor. The machine hums, producing food for the school.

  My stomach twists with terror. I have just watched my friend die. I have just eaten human flesh, three meals a day.

  I recall Elai’s words: “I’ve seen things you couldn’t even imagine.” So he knew. He knew, and still stayed. Still ate. Still lived in this nightmare.

  The savage supervisor’s voice snaps me back: “Hurry, clean the glass! The Headmaster is coming down!”

  The Headmaster!

  I stumble back, desperate to flee. My legs drag me through the dark, suffocating corridors. Suddenly, a shadow blocks my path. The Headmaster. I am doomed.

  Her voice is cold: “What are you doing here, huh?” My body shakes. Tears spill. I whisper: “I… I came to get some air.” she sneers: “Are you a dog, needing air to survive?” Head bowed, I mutter: “No…” she dismisses me: “Get back to your room.”

  I nod.

  Now I understand. This is no school. This is a warehouse of devoured memories.