Prologue

PROLOGUE

She loved games.

The girl put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. Hide-and-seek was her favorite, but she had to be quiet if she wanted to win. She peeked through the crack in the secret door, watching her grandmother to make sure she was really asleep.

She gnawed at her lip, wondering if she should check on Grandma. She hadn't been feeling well and she'd said she just needed a little rest, but the girl knew Grandma had caught the stomach bug because her face had turned a horrible shade of green when Molly had brought up dinner.

The girl pushed the door open a crack, thinking she could tuck Grandma under the covers a little better and maybe get a sweatshirt and her house slippers. Her pajamas were thin and the passageways were chilly. Even as she had the thought a violent shiver racked her body.

The decision made, she started to step out of the passageway and back into the bedroom when she heard footsteps from the hallway. She hurriedly closed the secret door and ran down the narrow steps.

She didn't know how many were playing the game, but the grown-ups liked to play as much as she and her siblings and cousins. It was one of the best things about coming to Grandma's house. Everybody liked to play. It was most fun when they were all there together. But this time, it was just her.

There was another noise, what sounded like a door closing, and she squeezed her body into a crevice, wiping her damp hands on her pajama pants. And then when she thought enough time had passed, she ran as fast as she could down another flight of stairs and to the secret door that led to Grandpa's office. She wasn't supposed to be in there, but Grandpa wasn't home so probably no one would notice if she used the doors that led out onto the patio where he liked to smoke.

Grandma didn't like it when he smoked, and he thought no one could see him on the private patio. But she could see him just fine from her bedroom. Sometimes she could even hear him talking on his phone and saying lots of bad words when she opened the windows.

She stifled another giggle as she crept into the dark office, her feet sinking into the thick rug as she made her way behind the desk and toward the door. Technically, she wasn't supposed to go outside, but the rain had stopped and she was just going to run back around to the front of the house and slip in the kitchen door. Besides, there was still daylight left, and if she was the last one found then she'd win the game. And then maybe Molly would give her something besides soup. Like a chocolate chip cookie. She made the best cookies. Even better than her mom's.

The girl grasped the black metal handle of the door and opened the door, freezing when the hinges creaked loudly. She could barely breathe as she waited, her ears straining for someone to come in and catch her. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, and she looked down at her bare feet, wishing she'd put on her shoes.

But there was no time for such regrets. She gathered her courage and pushed the door open the rest of the way, and started running. She was outside and halfway around the house, just about to breathe a sigh of relief, when arms came around her and tossed her into the air. She squealed with laughter.

"Oh, man," she said, looking up into the face of her captor. Disappointment filled her. "How'd you find me? I was so quiet."

"You're predictable. You always take the same route. You've got to mix it up a little. And I won't tell your grandfather you were in his office again."

She blew out a sigh, already thinking about where she would hide the next time. Maybe she'd climb out a window and go down to the stables. They'd never find her there.

"You won't find me next time," she said.

"That's what you always say. Come on. Let's go see your horse while it's still daylight."

"Oh, can I?" she asked, jumping up and down. "I've been wanting to go see her, but Grandma said I was too sick. But I'm better now. Pinky promise. And I've been so bored. I've read all my books, and I practiced my golf swing, and I didn't throw up my dinner."

There was a chuckle. "Come on. We'll go down in the car. Last thing we need is you catching a cold."

"I should put on my riding clothes," she said, looking down at her pajamas. She was starting to shiver with the sun going down, and it looked like it might start to rain again.

"No riding tonight. If Molly catches you out of your room she'll have your neck. Maybe you can ride in the morning if the weather is nice."

The girl kicked at the ground and watched water droplets scatter across the grass, knowing there was no point in arguing. Molly would tell her she was too sick to be out and about, and that she'd catch her death being out in the damp. Molly liked to fuss.

"Okay," she said. "Let's go before it gets too dark. It's been ages since I've seen Megan Thee Stallion."

"It hasn't been ages. And I can't believe your grandmother let you name one of her horses that."

"That's what Daddy said," she said. "He said Grandma keeps her head buried in the sand to the ways of the world now that she's retired. He said she doesn't have near enough to do and it's making her crazy. But Grandma said the horse was mine and I could name her what I wanted to. Megan doesn't have the hind legs to be a contender, but she's just right for me."

There was another chuckle as she hopped into the back seat of the black Land Rover and didn't bother buckling her seat belt. It smelled of polished leather and sandalwood and she bounced slightly on the seat. She was excited. She'd been cooped up in the house way too long.

She hummed to herself as they drove through the tree tunnel, and she pretended, just as she had when she was a very little girl, that it was the secret entrance to a magical place of fairytales and dragons and knights on white horses. Grandma's house was always like coming to a magical place.

Lost in her song, she didn't notice when they didn't take the turn toward the stables. They passed the garages and through a thicker covering of trees.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "You missed the turn for the stables."

"I just need make a quick errand. It won't take long."

She watched curiously as they approached the gate, but there was no guard stationed there like usual. A button was pushed and the iron gates slid open, and the Range Rover rolled through smoothly. She rubbed her hands together nervously. She'd never been taken on an errand before, and the sky was getting darker.

"Here we are."

The Range Rover pulled up next to another car similar to the one they were in, but she couldn't see the driver. The windows were too black. She heard muted conversation, and then the back door opened and there was a man standing there, and a sigh of relief went through her.

"Hey," she started to say, but then a hand came over her mouth and darkness covered her eyes. She tried to struggle and scream. Her foot connected with something solid, and she thought she heard a grunt, but she didn't have on her shoes and kicking hurt her toes. It was getting hard to breathe and she clawed out wildly as panic and the instinct to survive took over.

"Ouch, you little brat," the man said, and he punched her in the stomach hard enough that she couldn't draw in a breath.

She couldn't breathe or scream and there was nothing but darkness all around her. Her arms were yanked roughly behind her back and something was pulled tightly against her wrists so she couldn't move. Couldn't fight.

She whimpered as she was dropped onto the hard ground. She tried to get her legs under her. To run. But the man grabbed her by the hair and dragged her. And then he slipped something cold and hard around her neck and pulled hard.

"Careful. She's already got a buyer. And he'll be pissed if she's too roughed up when he gets her."

"Yeah, I got it," the man said. "Just like last time. Get in the car and shut up, brat."

He picked her up and tossed her into the back seat, but she barely felt the pain in her shoulder as she landed on the seat. It was easier to succumb to the dark.

When she woke again she didn't know where she was or how long she'd been gone. It was still so dark. And cold. But at least there was nothing over her eyes, and she was able to breathe a little easier.

She curled up on her side, a whimper escaping as her battered body protested movement. The man who dressed like her daddy was a very bad man. He looked like he should have been nice, but his face had been like a monster, contorted and evil. Her clothes were gone. And flashes of the bad man hitting her and touching her all over flashed in her mind. She couldn't get it out of her mind. He'd hurt her so bad, forced himself inside of her so she thought her body would tear in two.

Grandma would notice she was gone. And Molly. They'd come find her. And her daddy would hurt the bad man. He would probably punch him in the face. Thoughts of her daddy hurting the bad man helped clear some of the horrors from her mind.

She needed to think. She needed to be like one of the girl spies in the books she liked to read. What would a girl spy do? Try to escape? Try to find someone to help? Try to remember every little detail for the police?

First she needed to figure out where she was. Maybe there was a phone or a neighbor. Wherever she was, it smelled funny, and it made her nose burn when she breathed in deep. But at least her eyes were adjusting to the dark.

There was a dollhouse in the corner and stuffed animals on the floor. Somehow it seemed worse that she was in another little girl's bedroom. She hadn't remembered being brought here. She only remembered waking up when the man was on top of her. Tears pricked her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She hadn't cried. Not when all the bad things were happening to her. She didn't think she'd ever be able to cry again.

She could hear voices somewhere in the house. No, not voices. A television. She gingerly crawled off the bed, unable to control the whimpers that escaped, and she went to the window to look out. She peeked through the frilly curtains and opened the blinds, but it was dark outside. There wasn't even a streetlight. Only the moon that was half hidden behind a cloud.

Her body shuddered with cold, and she was starting to feel sick to her stomach again. Just like she'd felt after Junie's birthday party. She'd thrown up cake everywhere. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it down. She couldn't be sick now. He'd hear her and he might do bad things to her again. No matter what, she couldn't let him do the bad things to her again.

With that determination in mind she went to the closet, looking for her clothes. Or any clothes. But the closets were empty. Her breaths were coming faster and faster and she stumbled on her way to the door to see if there was a lock. There wasn't. He'd be able to walk in anytime he wanted and hurt her again.

Soft mewling sounds came from her throat as the panic began to overwhelm her. She frantically searched the room looking for anything that might protect her. That's when she saw the white wooden chair in front of the vanity table.

She dragged it across the carpet, too weak to pick it up, and she put it under the knob. The sounds coming from her mouth were almost animalistic as she realized she was trapped inside the room.

She pressed her ear to the door, trying to listen, trying to hear if the bad man was coming for her again, but her heart was pounding too loudly in her ears.

A phone rang, a loud shrill sound that cut through the sounds of the television, and she almost screamed in response. She clamped her hand over her mouth. The sounds from the television disappeared and she heard the man's voice. She knew the man's voice. She'd never forget the words he'd said as he was hurting her, telling her what a pretty girl she was as he held his hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.

He was talking louder now, mad, and she ran back to the window, pulling aside the curtains and moving the blinds. If she could just get the window to open.

Her fingers fumbled twice with the latch, but she finally got it. And she pushed with all her might until the window rose with a whoosh. His voice was getting louder now. And then the knob rattled and the door banged against the chair.

She couldn't stifle her shriek of fear. The cold night air blasted her in the face and the holly bush scratched the side of her cheek as she climbed out the window and started to run. She didn't know where she was running. She just knew he was behind her and if she stopped running he would catch her. And she could never let him catch her. Not again.

Running was her only hope.