It's been three days since I hurt my ankle, and nothing special has happened since. I've kept my mouth shut most of the time, giving Nick the silent treatment, and somehow managed to stay out of trouble.

Oh, and it was shown that my ankle wasn't broken, just sprained, and it's healing surprisingly fast. I can't really understand how it could hurt so much and still be almost completely healed by now. I can walk on it, but it does hurt a little bit, but I don't complain. Actually, I think it's time for me to try to get out of here. Not that I haven't thought or tried before, but with a sprained ankle you don't get far and I've kept my eyes open for a phone or computer, but without any luck.

But now my patient is running out and I don't know how much longer I can put up with Nick and his arrogant, cocky, obnoxious attitude.

I've said it before, and I'm going to say it again. If I won't get to the police, the police have to come here and this time, I won't just keep it in mind, I will make it true.

I'm tired of waiting, I'm tired of not being able to say what I want and being myself. I'm tired of being here, and I want to get home.

This time, I won't just put up a fight, I will win too.

And I'm going to start with plan A - getting under Peter's skin.

I haven't spoken to him since I found out what he did, and trust me, I don't want to break the silence which is laying comfortable between us. I don't want to break the ice, but I'm afraid I have to.

Maybe, just maybe, Peter isn't a complete douchebag. Maybe he does, or did, consider me as his friend and had some friendly feeling towards me. I really hope he did, because that's what my plan is built on.

I'm going to talk to him, telling him I want to forget what happened and start over, that I need a friend here, and hopefully he will fall for it.

I need to get him on my side, or at least somewhere between my side and the others, and I'm going to start the plan right... now.

It's afternoon, and I'm sitting in the living room all by myself. And no, it's not because they trust me, it's because there's absolutely no way leading out from this basement and the other guys are upstairs and probably watching my every move on a camera.

Nooo, not creepy at all *cough*.

I get up from the sofa and turn off the tv, there wasn't anything worth watching anyway, and make my way upstairs.

I find the guys in the main living room, which is the big one where Will sat when I tried to escape, and as I get everyone turns their attention towards me and I feel my cheeks blush slightly and I decide not to try to hide it and use it to my advantage instead.

Normally, I would hide all feelings from my face and walk with my head raised high, but now I do the opposite instead and as I make my way to the guys, I keep staring at me feet.

I stop in front of Peter, who is sitting with his phone in his hand.

"Uhm...", I mumble as I start tugging my lip, "c-can we talk?" I ask, stuttering on purpose. I hate playing weak, but if it can take me out of this hell hole, I'm gladly doing it.

Peter looks at me with a confused face and furrowed eyebrows.

"Ehm... yeah, sure." He stands up and seems to be extremely uncomfortable, which makes me smile a little on the inside.

"Let's go to my room...", he mumbles and starts walking upstairs. I follow him and feel the other guys' burning stares on my neck.

His room is close to the stairs and as we get in, I stand awkwardly by the door as he sits down on his bed. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he pats on the spot beside him and I slowly sit down beside him.

"So... what do you wanna talk about?" he says and breaks the silence.

I feel my eyes becoming glossy, a part of the act, and I meet his gaze with tears in my eyes and a quivering bottom lip.

"D-did you ever consider me your f-friend? O-or was it... was it all just an a-act?" The question is real, and I do want an answer.

Peter sighs.

"Allie", I'm trying not to flinch at the nickname, "you were always my friend. I didn't want them to take you in the first place but I can't tell them what to do and not to."

His words make me feel a little bit, but only a little bit, better.

"S-so you're s-still my... friend?", I stutter and wipe away a falling tear.

"If you want me to be", he says in a low voice, "but I don't understand your sudden change of mood. I really want to believe you, but you've been avoiding me for days and I know you, Allie. You never cry or gives in, let alone forgiving someone just like that."

Shoot. He can't see through my lie, he just can't.

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

"I-I've changed. This place is s-scary and I miss my h-home. You're all I got left from it, from home..."

I'm not sure he buys my act and I decide to take a big risk.

I bury my head in my hands and burst into tears, letting them fall freely down my cheeks.

As Peter put an arm around my shoulders, I smile into my hands and know I succeeded.

"Shh...", he whispers and starts rocking me back and forth. After a few minutes, I pull away sobbing and with reddened eyes.

"You want anything?", Peter asks worriedly, "tea? coffee? Anything?"

I give him an attempt of a small smile.

"Tea, p-please."

"Alright", he says and stands up, "wait here, I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

I nod my head in response and watch him leaving the room. As soon as his back disappears from my view, I wipe away a few remaining tears and starts scanning the room.

My eyes immediately land on a small, rectangular object on the bed.

His phone.

Bingo.