Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
The sound of construction outside wouldn’t remind me that now is my only chance to run.
I’ve barely eaten anything. I simply haven’t had an appetite. But given the state of my hunger, I have to. My stomach growls as I get out of bed, only to realize I’m still in the same clothes as yesterday. For a moment I consider changing, but I decide to just wash my face and brush my hair and teeth.
Even doing those simple tasks feels like a struggle and for a blip of a moment I’m reminded of what it was like when I was with Travis. When I fell into a horrible depression. As I spit out the water I rinsed my mouth out with, I stare at my reflection. A dull complexion and dark undereye circles stare back at me.
My first instinct is to call the doctor, but for what? I can’t schedule an appointment. I’m fucking trapped here.
The beep, beep, beep of some construction vehicle backing up keeps me from breaking down entirely.
Gripping the edge of the sink, I remind myself, all I have to do is obey. It won’t be like this forever. It’s simply a test, isn’t it?
As I walk out, I consider taking my phone. There are unread messages from my mother and there’s no access to social media on it. I leave it there, and head down the quiet hall.
The doors that line it are still shut and I don’t know what’s behind them. I don’t dare look. I don’t dare do anything other than walk to the far end that leads to the foyer. There’s no curiosity anymore. There is only waiting and the silence that’s filled with unwanted thoughts.
I’ll make coffee and maybe that will give me energy. I’ll eat something and then wait in the kitchen. There’s a large window there and the light will do me good. And maybe Aria will come. If she sees me, maybe she’ll have some sympathy for me.
Maybe I won’t be alone with my thoughts and memories that won’t be quiet. My bare feet pad against the cold marble floor. As the beep, beep, beep gets louder, the irony of it all hits me.
In this place of luxury, I’m a pawn and a prisoner. All because I fell in love with a boy who I thought needed help. Who I wanted to help but didn’t know how.
Maybe in some fucked-up way, I did this to myself. Light filters in through the massive front doors. They’re gorgeous and intricate and I haven’t attempted to open them even though Declan said he’d leave them unlocked. He even gave me the code: 71017.
Vaguely I wonder if he did. I think about waiting here for Aria and asking her to open them. Just to see. I only want to know if he lied to me. If that’s the test.
I take a few steps closer, but not close enough to touch, only to look out just a bit. Only to see what I can see while I’m far enough away for him to know I won’t run. There are cameras. They are always watching when I’m outside of the room. I know that much.
It could be over if only I asked her to open them. I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t dare.
As I stand there, wondering if it could really all be done with if only someone opened the doors, a man’s voice that chills me to my core is heard from the other side of the doors.
Paralyzed, I stand there and his shadow is cast along the carved glass.
“So it’s true, then? That bitch sent it?”
I can’t breathe. Nate’s voice brings me back to the freezing cold bath. Over the memory of my screams I hear him say, “Declan’s going to lose his fucking mind. I don’t want to be the one to tell him.”
I try to inhale but my head is light and nothing inside is working right. My body trembles as I remember the bath.
“You’re sure it was Braelynn?”
I nearly collapse right there at the mention of my name and the venom he holds behind his statements. I don’t see another shadow and it takes me too long to realize he’s on the phone and he’s getting closer.
What did I do?
“All I know is, I don’t want to be the one to do it this time.”
My head spins as his heavy footstep approaches. He’s coming for me.
I run, as quickly and silently as I can, throwing open the door and I don’t stop. I nearly fall as I come up to the bedroom door and inside, panic ensues.
Every word he said plays back to me: So it’s true, then? That bitch sent it?
“I didn’t send anything,” I murmur to myself as I pace at the end of the bed, staring at the bedroom door.