The lines etched across the wall were accumulating quickly. Twenty-eight scratches, including the one Dylan had just made, represented another day of captivity. A month had passed since The Oracles captured him and placed him inside a cell, and whatever Captain Laveaux did to weaken him left him unable to use his powers.
It was complete and utter bullshit.
The fact that Simone, his mother, and even his father hadn’t visited him only pissed off Dylan more. Layne hadn’t shown his face either. At this point, Dylan would have accepted a visit—and an argument—with his brother.
The guards had lost interest in taunting him. They wouldn’t hold any type of conversation with him, no matter how much he tried baiting them. If this was what being in solitary confinement was like, he didn’t want any
