We tossed into a room resembling a metal box. “What are we going to now?” “We are gonna to get Frank. Then we are gonna get out of here.” “What!? Are you crazy? We can’t do that.” “Why not?” “Cause they got him. He’s too far gone.” “How do you know that? Have you tried?” “No, but-” “So how do you know we can’t help him?” “I don’t but-” “I thought you wanted to help him.” “I do but-” “Then why are you so determined to leave him to leave him?” “I- it’s- you-” “Do you plan on finishing any of those sentences?” “It’s hard to explain. You wouldn’t understand.” “Try me.” Mikey opened his mouth to speck, but he was interrupted by the door opening loudly. Frank walked in. He was covered in bruises and dried blood all over his face. They hit him. They hit my poor Frankie. I need to know who did this. I will see to it that the suffer a cruel and painful death.