Chapter One
Winter
Palms flat on the dirty windowpane, I was frozen, transfixed by the two little girls on the dock. Puffy gray clouds hung low in the sky, and I could almost feel the slight bite of the breeze as it lifted their long strawberry-blond hair, making the strands dance in the wind. Too thin and long-limbed, they awkwardly tossed pebbles into the water. I could predict each movement as if it were my own. The tilt of the taller one’s head and the way they stood close to each other spoke to something missing inside me.
Seeing them felt like a cleaver to my chest, tearing and shredding me until I bled out on the dusty wooden floor. I know them.
The dingy window allowed for a small view, and I desperately wanted to see more of the landscape. I couldn’t. And is anyone else there? It felt like there was, and it made me crazy that I couldn’t spot anyone. The hairs on the back of my neck and along my arms stood from some strange static or electrical current that charged the air. Or maybe it was the sense of doom I couldn’t shake.
It’s not safe repeated in my head, rising in volume, the rhythm merging with that of my palm striking the glass, warning them. It’s not safe.
The dock was old, and I swore I heard the creaks as they moved along the edge, playing a game of who could throw the small stones the farthest.
I didn’t like how close they were to the edge. Panic clawed at my throat, making it difficult to yell, but I tried to caution them. I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that they were in danger.
My vision tunneled. I pounded my fists on the glass, screaming for them to get away from the water. To run. I had to get out there. I tore my gaze from the girls and searched the room, finding a single bed, one window, and no door. How can there be no door?
Someone was coming. I could feel it in my bones. I beat against the glass pane with renewed effort, shocked it didn’t break. My heart pounded with a sense of urgency, and my hands shook. I know what’ll happen. I screamed as loud as I could for them to run.
They can’t swim.
Sweat beaded along my hairline and rolled down my face. It was going to happen. I could almost hear the sound of a footfall. I backed up and threw my body against the window only to bounce off, landing on the floor. There had to be a way to get free. I picked myself up and repeatedly hurtled my body at the wall until the room’s edges expanded. It brought me closer to the dock.
Then I heard it—the creak of the old, rickety dock under my feet.
I couldn’t understand. A wall had never moved like that before. When I thought about it, I was snapped back into the room as if nothing had changed.
It’s a dream. Acute fear spread through me like wildfire. I didn’t want to relive it because I knew—one of those girls was me.
The wood creaked again. Pain exploded along my back, knocking me off the dock. The next moment, I was underwater. I kicked and flailed my arms, the surface there then gone. Blind fear added weight to the water. My limbs grew heavier. I held my breath as long as I could, then I didn’t. It was involuntary. I had no control over the quick intake of water. It went down my throat and into my lungs. Everything was heavy. Pressure surrounded me.
I couldn’t fight it.
I woke with a gasp, air filling my lungs. My body remained heavy, and my mind felt hazy like I was underwater. Crickets chirped outside, and moonlight cast a silvery glow through a window. I blinked the room into focus, but it only managed to add confusion.
Where am I? Faint light filtered through a window coated with grime. It was enough to make out dated wood paneling on the walls. Nothing was familiar. A damp mustiness clung to the air. Dust infiltrated my every breath. The tiny particles tickled the back of my throat, and I coughed. My heart pounded in my chest at the noise.
Did I alert someone I’m awake?
The violent beat of my heart matched the one in my head. Bile climbed up my throat, and my vision swam. Dark spots converged on the edges of my blurry vision as more information trickled in. I lay acclimating to my surroundings.
I wasn’t in my dorm room at Thane University.
I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t move my arms. The nausea increased, my stomach cramping painfully. Then I felt the bite of plastic on my skin, securing my hands behind me, and a new wave of panic sent racking tremors through my weak limbs. I fell back on the bed, the rough sheets scratching under my exposed skin.
My ears strained for sounds in the rest of the house. There were none, just the faint lapping of water coming from somewhere outside. I tried to swallow past the Sahara that was my mouth, but it did little to relieve my urge to throw up as my stomach churned and my head throbbed painfully.
The dark spots united, and I knew I couldn’t remain conscious much longer, despite the realization that none of it was a dream. With each measured breath, my heartbeat slowed—until I realized what had happened.
Someone had kidnapped me.
