In the cafeteria, the following day, a big guy with a scar across his eye sat across from Milan while they were eating dry, brittle bread.

“Fellas, wanna hear a joke?” A fusion of spit and food sprang from his mouth as he spoke. “Why did the picture go to jail? Because it was framed!”

Laughter erupted from the row. Fists thumped on the refectory table, food flying up, then back down on the trays. This had to have been the guy Eli heard the joke from.

Milan’s eye twitched. These people were ten times worse than his father. If his mother saw this, she’d never complain about him again.

“Wanna hear an even better joke?” Eli carried her food tray to the table, squeezing between Milan and the guy beside him. “Why did the prisoner cross the road? To get to the other side. Cuz that’s where the prison was.”

The pin-drop silence lasted one second. One second before all hell broke loose. Screams and yells rose to the ceiling. Trays were hurled across the cafeteria, the food spattering across the table, on the ground and walls. People hopped on the table with their dirty shoes. Someone flew head-down to the floor, and another punched him.

“I’m not going to prison! You’re going to prison!” he said.

Out of the corner of Milan’s eye, a tray flitted toward his face. He ducked his head, the tray sailing right over.

Milan breathed hard through his nose. “What the hell, Eli?”

But Eli wasn’t there. She stood on tiptoe at the top of the table with her fist in the air, screaming: “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Milan slapped his own forehead. Eli was the worst. One second was all it took for this detention center to turn into a zoo. All because of her stupid jokes.

With an arched back, Milan crept to the corner. It was a massive horde of brawling men, food, and yelling. A piece of bread landed by Milan’s feet, and that was when his eyes fell on it. A vent hanging low in the wall.

Milan’s glance darted around the cafeteria. Everyone was busy chucking food, trays, and plastic utensils at each other, jumping on the table, or beating someone up. Milan was lucky they were all idiots.

He bent over and tugged the grille. The left side opened halfway. His vision caught a glint of something, as Milan squeezed his arm through.

“What’s going on here?!” The officers rushed into the cafeteria, each with a baton.

Milan yanked his arm back and bolted upright.

“Get down from the table!” They ordered. The screams subdued as they dragged the inmates off the table, pinning their arms behind their backs.

“I don’t wanna go to prison!” A voice cried.

An officer rushed toward Milan and cuffed his arms.

“I’m not involved in this,” Milan said.

“Nice try. But y’all are going to your cells until y’all learn to behave.”

And then, they were back to where they came from. Back in the cell, where the dull, gray walls fit so close, it was as if they curved in on one another.

“Now what?” Eli sat on the bed, with her back leaned against the wall.

Milan went down on all fours and pressed the palm of his hands against the hardwood flooring.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Trying to find an opportunity,” Milan said. “You wanted to escape, right?”

Eli’s eyes sparkled. “You’re in?!”

“I never said that. I just want to determine if we even have a chance.”

“Go, MW!” Eli chuckled, jumping and thumping her feet on the floor. “I’ll help.”

MW? My initials? Milan thought. “Stop it. They’ll hear you.”

But she wasn’t listening. The floor creaked underneath her feet as she sprang back and forth between the floorboards. Milan’s eyes followed them, but the boards remained steady in their places, not moving an inch. Why would they? This was a highly secured detention center. They had to have conducted a hundred security checks in the cells. And even if they did find a way to remove the boards, it wouldn’t mean they’d be able to escape.

“What’s going on in there?!” Sharp knocks hammered on the door.

Milan leaped to his feet. “Nothing, officer! We were just… uh, exercising. Burning calories and all.”

“We had a lot for breakfast,” Eli said.

“Well, stop that noise! Ya’ll gotta learn to behave, or ya’ll won’t be getting outta there.”

“Understood,” Milan said. He faced Eli with his brows knitted together.

But Eli dumped on the bed, her eyes taking on a far-away look. “Now what?”

Milan tapped his foot softly against the ground. “Our escape depends on two things. One, if we can break through this floor, somehow. And two, it depends on what’s under there.”

“We can dig an underground tunnel.”

“No way,” Milan said. “That’ll take too long. I don’t have the patience for that.”

Eli stood, wearing a smug smile. “And you’d have to do it on your own.”

“What do you mean?” Milan asked. But it wasn’t difficult to guess.

“I’m bein’ transferred. Wasn’t s’posed to be here in the first place. It was a system error or somethin’ like that, they said.”

That made sense. Milan had heard about cases where women had been sent to male detention centers due to systematic failures or administrative mistakes. He’d considered that since he first saw her. Was it her name? Eli Easton wasn’t exactly a feminine-sounding name. Maybe they had failed to correctly assess her identity based on that. If she was even telling the truth about her name.

Milan ambled around the cell with crossed arms. “Then we have a problem. There’s no way we can dig an underground tunnel, so that’s out of the question. We won’t be able to lift the floorboards without the right materials. And we can’t count on getting lucky and finding a loose one. But —” He pulled up a pocketknife from his ankle, where his sock had kept it pressed against his skin. “We can work with this.”

Eli’s fingers reached for the knife. “Where’d you get that?”

“The vent in the cafeteria. I have no idea why it was there.”

Eli lifted her head high, pointing with a limp finger. “So that’s how it is.”

“What?”

“It was smuggled in. You know Chet, the dude that told that lame joke this mornin’? He’s got somethin’ on one of them guards. That guard’ll do anythin’ to protect his secret, so he smuggles stuff here on the bastard’s orders.” She pushed her lips forward. “You saw how everyone laughed at that lame joke? That’s ‘cuz they gotta act nice, so he can get them what they want.”

So, there was already a system going on around here. What kind of secret was the guard willing to protect to such an extent? And besides…

“How does that explain how the knife ended up in the vent?” Milan asked.

“That’s easy-peasy. All the vents on the second floor — this floor — end up in the cafeteria vent on the first floor. It’s how the smugglin’s not been found out yet.” Eli linked her arms together across her chest. “Bastard gets to choose his own cell, too.”

“How do you know all this?”

“It’s called socializin’.”

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“You’ve gathered that much information in a few days by socializing?” Milan asked.

“Somethin’ like that. You should try it sometime.”

“I’m not socializing with criminals.”

“Then you’re also a criminal, ‘cuz you’re here.”

Milan’s lips protruded in a pout. “My situation has… special circumstances.”

“Enough borin’ talk,” Eli said. “Let’s begin operation break-out.”

“I never agreed to that.” Those were the words coming out of Milan’s mouth. But did he mean them? If he stayed, he knew he was screwed. He couldn’t count on getting lucky and being declared innocent. Even if he was, he’d never be able to clear his name. People would still wonder about him.

Milan wasn’t going to waste time here. His fingers trailed the floorboards, reaching one in the middle of the cell — the one that had creaked the most when Eli had jumped on it. It wasn’t loose, but it was their best bet.

“Listen at the door and alarm me if you hear someone approaching,” Milan said. Then, he scraped the knife under the nail and wrenched it sideways, first from the left. Then, from the right. Over and over again until it came off. Milan wiped off the sweat trailing down the side of his face.

The blade left scratches on the floor. He had to be careful. If the scratches became too obvious, the guards would notice.

Milan continued yanking the nails out, but one floorboard wasn’t enough. He’d have to remove one or two more.

Crouching, he wrenched the remaining nails with the knife until they were removed. His arms ached, barely able to lift the boards.

But it was just the beginning. Of course there’d be a subfloor, nailed, just like the floorboards. Milan repeated the process, this time putting in more effort. Drops of sweat gathered on his forehead as he lifted them. A dark hole emerged in the middle of the room. He stuffed his head through the opening, surrounded by joists and crosspieces, but dust slipped its way to his lungs before he could see anything. He coughed, his breath rasping in his throat.

“Quick!” Eli said. “Someone’s comin’.”

Milan sprang. He placed the floorboards over the hole and threw the knife and nails under his bed. With a rigid position, he stood, facing the door. His throat burned from trying to hold in the cough.

Eli broke into laughter. “Kiddin’, kiddin’. I can’t hear nothin’ when you’re dying from a virus over there.” She banged her fist sideways into the door. “You’re takin’ too long. It’s too borin’ trying to listen through this metal door.”

The door slid open, and Eli jumped. Two officers appeared in the doorway.

“It’s time to attend education,” one of them said.

Milan bit his lip. So close. They were so close to finding out what was below this floor. Milan shook his head as they were led through the hallway. It didn’t matter. After this, he’d find out where that hole led to. And that discovery would either make or break their chances of getting out of here.

* * *

Milan’s mind wandered off during class, while the teacher explained something about geometry of space. Milan already knew all of that. More importantly, what materials would they need to investigate? A map of this place was a must. It could give them information about the room, as well as other places that could be important. A flashlight would also be helpful. They had to wait until nighttime to examine below the floor. If they did it during the day, and the officers went into their cell, they could kiss any chances they had goodbye. But all of it — their plan to escape revolved around the room under their cell. It depended on how they could use it, if they could at all.

Milan cast a glimpse toward Eli, who sat with her face on the desk, loose arms hanging by her sides. The whole smuggling situation could change everything. If they befriended Chet, they could get anything they needed. No, Milan couldn’t, but Eli could. That she had gained this much information in a few days was impressive. She had potential.

Milan lifted his eyebrow, his lips bending up. Somehow, his chest lightened. He needed an idiot like Eli for his plan to work — too easy-going, fun-loving, and a complete fool.

Milan ripped off a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote: Tell Chet to bring us a map of the building and a flashlight by the end of today. He curled the note and when the lecturer turned her back, he threw it at Eli’s head. Good thing they sat in the back row.

Eli’s head flew up, swinging around until she saw the paper on her desk. She buried her face in the note and lifted her head in Milan’s direction, tweaking her thump up.

Now that was out of the way. Milan counted on Eli to get those things. Still, an uneasy feeling blossomed in his chest. What if their schemes were discovered? What if Eli wasn’t to be trusted — if she didn’t keep her mouth shut?

Milan rubbed his hands. Even if the risk was high, he couldn’t remain calm in this situation, not knowing the truth about what had happened. Even if Milan was the one who had murdered them, he wouldn’t turn a blind eye to the fact. But he wanted to find the truth in his own way, which involved getting the hell out of here.

* * *

Finally! Eli thought when the teacher put her hands together and said: “It’s time for group work. Get together in two-man groups and discuss the questions in your study book.”

Eli walked in a straight line and slammed the palm of her hands against Chet’s table. “Hey, hey, let’s work together.”

Chet rubbed his scar-crossed eye. “Whatcha want?”

Eli straightened MW’s note and placed it in Chet’s hand. Chet pushed his other hand’s finger into his nose, twisting it around. It felt like an eternity before he raised his head again. “And whatcha need that for?”

“Can’t tell.”

Chet let out a deep chuckle. “Seems you don’t know my policy, new fella.” He dried his finger free of the green bogey on his shirt and leaned forward, grabbing Eli by the collar. “I’ll get anything for anyone so long they tell me what they need it for.”

Eli clenched her fist, about to strike him and add another scar to his eye. She thought about it for a second, but she had better not do it. Sure, it’d be fun, but it was more fun breaking out of here.

“I had no idea!” Eli clasped her hand around Chet’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ll let you in on the secret.”

Then, she leaned in and whispered in Chet’s ear.

Chet smiled. “This should get interesting.”

“Now you can see why it’s important,” Eli said. “Can you get ‘em tonight?”

“You’re underestimating me.” Chet glared straight ahead. “Six p.m. sharp.”

* * *

Six p.m. sharp. That was what Chet had told Eli, or at least that was what Eli said. Now, Milan’s arm was stuck deep inside the air vent in the cafeteria, while Eli stood with her back against Milan, keeping an eye out.

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Milan said. “I saw you whispering to him.”

“That’d be borin’. He’d screw up operation break-out, for sure.”

Of course, that was what she’d say. What if she was lying? What if she’d told him? All their efforts would go down the drain. Chet didn’t seem like someone who’d keep his mouth shut. Then again, neither did Eli.

He yanked his arm to his body, stuffing the folded paper of the map and the mini flashlight on either side of his sleeves. “Let’s go.”

They turned the corner, dashing out of the cafeteria when Milan bumped his head against something soft. His eyes trailed upward and met the last face he wanted to see.

Chet.

“Operation break-out, huh?” he said.

Milan’s face turned to Eli. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”

Before Eli could answer, Chet clutched Milan and Eli by their collars, each with one hand, and hauled them close.

“Listen, newbies. I don’t think you fully understand.” Spit spluttered out of his mouth. “I’ll get anything for anyone so long they tell me what they need it for.”

He unclenched his hand, shoving them away. “Now, if you don’t tell me what you’re up to, I’ll make you regret it.”

Eli chortled and made a mocking sound. “What’re gonna do? Tell Mommy and Daddy?”

Milan flashed a cutting glance at her. What the hell was wrong with her? She was going to make everything worse!

“You newbies wouldn’t know,” Chet said. “For someone like myself, who’s been in and outta here, there’s a special room for rule-breakers.” The light gleamed in his blank eyes. “Solitary confinement. In there, there is no way to break out. You’ll spend twenty-four hours of the day in a dark cell under constant surveillance. You’ll be stuck in there, with only the voices in your head to entertain you. The cries of those already gone crazy will ring in your ears forever. Ramming their heads into the bars, biting their nails until their fingers bleed and gorging their own eyes out, leaving behind hollow black holes with blood twirling down their cheeks.” Chet leaned his upper body forward. “And soon, you’ll find yourselves doing that same thing.”

Milan and Eli fluttered a glimpse at each other before Eli burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“Wh-what a g-great story!” She talked in between gasps, wiping a tear with her finger. “I’m sure it’d be a bestseller if you turned it into a book.”

Milan slapped Eli’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Stop laughing,” he said through his teeth.

“Let’s see how much you’ll be laughing when it’s your turn.” Chet snorted. “You’ve made your choice.”

He turned his back and took his first step when Milan spoke.

“Wait. We’ll tell you.”

Chet turned his head, and a sly smile twisted his lip upward. Milan had played right into his hands. Yeah, Milan didn’t get it either. Why should he tell Chet about their plan? There was no way to guarantee he wouldn’t inform the guards. But by letting him in on it, he could try to lower the risk. Everyone did things for their own sake. Which was why, if Chet was part of their plan, he might not tell on them.

Milan told him everything. About the pocketknife, their cell floor, and their plan to escape.

“Interesting,” Chet gestured at Eli. “This daredevil over here told me you were going ghost hunting.”

Milan exhaled. Ghost hunting. Could he expect any different from Eli? But at least she hadn’t told him the truth. Maybe Eli could be trusted?

He shook his head. No, he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. Eli didn’t tell Chet about their plan because she wanted to escape too. She had selfish goals, like Milan. Like Chet. Like everyone.

“After we’ve searched the place, we’ll come up with a plan and tell you,” Milan said.

“Count me in.” Chet clamped his hand around Milan’s shoulder and squeezed. A shooting pain glazed through. “We’re in this together.”

Then, he turned his back and left.

“You sure ‘bout this?” Eli said.

“It’d be worse if we didn’t tell him. He’d rat us out.”

Eli murmured in assent. “Now what.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Milan rubbed the shoulder Chet had squeezed, trying to ease the pain. “We wait until nighttime. Then, we investigate.”