Housebound with the Blackridge Heirs novel Chapter 46

**Change Begins With You — Jayden Collins**
**Chapter 46**

**Maya**

“You can’t keep me here forever,” I declared, the words escaping my lips before I had the chance to reconsider. They sliced through the oppressive silence of the room, sharp and defiant.

The man clad in an immaculate white uniform remained unfazed. His expression was a mask of neutrality as he meticulously recorded something on the tablet cradled in his hands. “Subject 27 will refrain from outbursts. Relocation begins in ten minutes,” he stated flatly.

“Subject?” I retorted, my voice rising with indignation. “My name is Maya.”

He didn’t even bother to look up from his screen. “Noted,” he replied, his tone devoid of any inflection.

A surge of anger coursed through me, mingling with the exhaustion that had been my constant companion for days. My heart raced, fueled by a mix of frustration and desperation.

“I don’t care what you’ve decided. I’m not going anywhere with you,” I asserted, my voice firm despite the tremor in my hands.

“Defiance will only prolong your confinement,” he muttered, his voice monotone, as if he were reciting a rehearsed script.

“Good,” I shot back, my resolve hardening. “I’d rather rot here than be your experiment again.”

For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps a hint of annoyance—but he remained silent. Instead, he gestured toward the two guards stationed by the door.

“Prepare her,” he commanded.

The guards advanced in unison, their tall figures imposing and faceless behind their dark masks. I felt the cold metal of the restraints as they snapped around my wrists, the short chain digging uncomfortably into my skin.

I resisted the urge to struggle. Not yet. But inside, every fiber of my being screamed to flee.

They guided me down a long, narrow corridor, the walls stark white and the floors a glossy silver. Above us, fluorescent lights hummed softly, casting a sterile glow that seemed to amplify the antiseptic scent of bleach lingering in the air.

Every few feet, a door lined the hallway, each one marked with a pale blue number that glowed ominously.

As we passed, I caught a glimpse through a glass panel. A figure slumped in the corner of one room, head bowed in defeat, a faint glow emanating from a collar around his neck. It was the same collar I dreaded. The same sense of hopelessness.

I felt a tightening in my chest, panic threatening to overwhelm me.

“Keep walking,” one guard barked, his voice harsh and unyielding.

They ushered me into another room, larger yet just as stark and clinical. A single bed was positioned against one wall, accompanied by a sleek medical monitor. At least this room boasted a window, albeit frosted white, obscuring any view of the world outside.

Near the far wall stood a woman, her coat a bright contrast to the dim surroundings. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, dark hair pulled back neatly, her tired eyes softened by an unexpected hint of kindness.

“This is Doctor Lucy,” one of the guards introduced her.

She nodded once, her demeanor calm. “You may leave.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, she turned to me, a faint smile gracing her lips.

“You must be exhausted,” she said, her tone surprisingly gentle.

I remained silent, my hands trembling slightly from the restraints that bound them.

“I need to run a few final checks before they move you,” she continued, her voice soothing. “It won’t take long.”

“Move me where?” I demanded, my curiosity piqued despite the situation.

Her gaze flicked up, revealing nothing. “To a different facility. The Council wants more… controlled conditions.”

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing with sarcasm. “You mean another cage.”

Lucy hesitated, her expression wavering. “We prefer the term ‘safe observation.’”

“I don’t,” I shot back, my voice laced with defiance.

For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of empathy in her eyes. “You’ve endured more than most could bear,” she said softly. “I don’t expect you to trust us.”

“Good,” I replied, exhaling as my anger began to dissipate into weary resignation.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. “Just tell me where they are. Caden, Tylon, and Leo. Are they alive?”

“Yes,” she said, her expression softening immediately. “They’re alive.”

A wave of relief washed over me, nearly bringing me to my knees.

“Thank God,” I breathed, my heart racing with gratitude.

She scrutinized me, her gaze penetrating. “You care about them.”

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