Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
I swipe the tears from my eyes as they fall. “It’s not me who needs to be helped. You cannot tell Dad. You’ll put people I care about in a dangerous position.”
“I won’t,” she whispers. “I won’t say a word to your father. I’m going to get you out.”
I shake my head, my eyes flicking up to the van that’s heading this way. “You can’t help. Goodbye, Nina.”
I toss my phone into the snow as a van pulls up to the curb. The doors slide open to an empty back seat. I take a deep breath and step inside, shutting the door behind myself. The driver’s face is hidden behind a ski mask, as he turns the van around and drives off the same way he came.
“You have anything on you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“How’d you get here?”
“Taxi.” I rest my head against the window and watch trees fly past my window.
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
I glare at him in the rearview mirror. “I really don’t care.”
He doesn’t speak again.
Hours later, my body jolts in my seat. I blink through the haze of my sleep.
In the van. On my way to be the sacrificial lamb.
The sliding door squeaks when it slides open onto the man who gave me the video.
He widens his arm out to the side. “Out of the car, Hayes.”
My boots hit the cloud of snow when I follow his instruction.
“Follow me.”
Shivers break out over my body when I finally lift my head to take in my new surroundings, while maintaining a safe distance behind him. A scattering of office-size pods circle a larger building that sits right in the middle of the broad field. The ceilings are all low and flat, the style simplistic and kind of… weird. Like cubes that blend with the snow.
Blankets of sleet cover the crops and gardens, and there’s a fenced-off corner that keeps in smaller animals.
I follow the small path behind him as he leads me to the main building. Stark white walls encase the mustard yellowing of the door. It opens, and his long arm gestures for me to enter.
I pause for a moment, my feet stuck to the ground. There’s no second-guessing myself. I’d do it over and over again if it meant protecting the people I love.
My foot lands on the carpet inside around a bright flickering light that beams down from the ceiling. The space is empty, with nothing but a rectangular table that stretches down half the length of the room. Chairs are stacked and pushed against the far side wall, and my head tilts up to the enclosed box of glass that covers the entire size of the room.
“Do you like it?” he asks eagerly.
I tense. “I don’t know what it is.”
He makes his way to the other side of the room and opens yet another yellow door.
“You guys like yellow?”
His withered face twists, tracing his goatee with his leathered hand. “I didn’t choose it.”
I bristle. “Why am I important to you? Why am I here?”
His beady eyes flick to the door. “Follow me.”
I trace his footsteps through the room and up the stairs. As soon as we reach the top, four people come into view, where they stand against a clear wall that displays the entirety of the room that hangs from the ceiling.
“This is Salem.” He doesn’t say her last name, but the girl’s blonde hair hangs between her shoulders. He moves to the girl beside her. “This is Eloise Evans, or you might know her better as—” His smile widens. “Lala.”
“Danny’s daughter?” She keeps her head down, her fingers twisting in her lap. “I thought she died when we were young. I remember hearing my dad talk about it with my mom.”
“Not dead.” The man steps between the bodies of kids. “I just, well, took her.” I’d never met her before, and our families were sworn enemies from beef that dates way back. We had to have a treaty between us and everything, but right now, I don’t see an enemy. I see a girl who has had her soul ripped from her, left with nothing but the shell of who I’m sure she was.
“Now, this one, this one here is where you come in.”
I follow his line of sight, down to another girl who is probably my age. She has washed-out ruby-colored hair that hangs down her back and a small, heart-shaped face. She’s the only one I can get a good look at, because she’s staring right at me. “Katsia Stuprum.”
I also know who she is.
“Now, obviously, she is a little late to the party, since we only just managed to get her the night I gave you the video. Of course, once I found out that she isn’t at all a Stuprum, well… I had to direct my attention elsewhere, and well—”