Chapter 63

SIXTY-THREE

AMETHYST

Six weeks after arriving at Three Fates, Kappa drives us through the gates of a mansion. It’s bigger than any house I’ve seen before, with its stone front covered in thick ivy and creepy marble statues standing on both sides of its wooden doors. Moonlight shines on its darkened windows, making them look like eyes peering out of a hood.

She hands us caffeine pills to wake us up because we fell asleep in the backseat during the long drive. They’re bitter and make my heart race, but if we complete this mission, Mr. Delta says we’ll be able to go home.

“I don’t need to remind you of what will happen if you fail,” she says.

“We won’t,” Dolly replies.

Kappa turns around in the driver’s seat to look me in the eye. “Amy?”

“We won’t,” I whisper.

She nods, seeming satisfied, and hands us identical Alice headbands. They contain two syringes filled with a sleeping agent. Our job is to inject our targets so they can fall unconscious when the police come to search their house. As soon as we’re done, she’ll drive us home.

I once described Three Fates as an orphanage, like Annie, but it’s far more brutal. Mr. Delta told Dad it was one big happy family and that he would take care of the ‘beautiful twins’ as if we were his own daughters.

The minute Dad left, Mr. Delta ordered us to join the other girls outside for fresh air. Kappa walked us back to the lawn, where the girls were exercising, and there was no sign of Dad’s car.

Dolly and I went to the back of the procession of robotic girls and tried to follow their movements. It was so hot outside, and there were no breaks or water, just constant exercises under the sun. Every time we stopped, Kappa forced us to run laps.

It took two weeks to get used to the routines before the instructors called us out for one-on-one sessions, which were more like wrestling than combat drills. They pinned us down on the mats and we had to wriggle free. If we failed, the consequences were disgusting. And painful.

“Do you hear me, Amy?” Kappa’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Go in there, do what they want, and wait until we get them alone,” I say, my voice flat. “Then we pull the syringes out of our headbands, knock them out, and leave.”

She nods.

“Then we go home,” Dolly adds.

“That’s right,” Kappa replies with a bright smile.

Dolly opens the door and steps out into the courtyard. I’m about to shuffle across the back seat to follow her, when Kappa grabs my wrist.

“Don’t crease your pretty pinafore,” she says, her smile vanishing.

Nodding, I swallow down the lump in my throat and open the door. My feet crunch on the gravel in these weird patent leather shoes that pinch around the toes, but I ignore the discomfort.

This time tomorrow, we’ll be back home.

Back in our rooms, where we’re left alone to be normal kids. Where the only man we have to deal with is Dad.

Dolly waits for me on the mansion’s front steps. Three Fates has beaten the evil out of her, and she finally acts like a sister instead of a monster. I heard that’s because the girls in her dorm are bullies. The ones in mine just leave me alone.

“Ready?” she whispers.

I give her a shaky nod.

As she rings the bell, Kappa reverses down the driveway and disappears through the gates. We’ll rendezvous with her after our mission in the back of the mansion where she’ll be parked.

We’ve practiced this a hundred times with our instructors. The moment our targets take us to a separate room, we need to strike. Failure to take advantage of the element of surprise will lead to an ordeal worse than their nasty punishments.

The door opens, and a gray-haired butler stares down at us with cold eyes. “Karen and Adele?” He doesn’t give us a chance to answer. “Follow me.”

Dolly and I exchange glances. Our instructors gave us these made-up names, but they didn’t tell us there would be a butler. My sister steps over the threshold first. I grab her hand, needing some of her courage.

We trail after him, our shiny shoes echoing through a foyer that seems larger than our entire house. Giant chandeliers hang from the ceiling like they’re about to crash over our heads, and the walls are lined with portraits of men whose eyes I’m sure are following as we pass.

I shoot my sister a frown and flick my head to the shoes. How are we going to escape in such noisy footwear? Her lips tighten as if the answer is obvious. We’ll have to take them off.

The butler stops at a door and slides it open, revealing a large dining room filled with men wearing suits. All the chatter stops, and every head turns to gape at us like we’re circus freaks.

My stomach drops. Our targets were supposed to be alone.

“Take your seats at the ends of the table,” the butler says.

Dolly turns to the right and walks toward a bald man who has risen from his seat. He’s dressed in a black suit with a face shaped like a boiled egg. I’m about to follow her, when the butler grabs my shoulder.

“You’re over there.” He turns me to the left, where a man identical to the first one holds out a hand.

The men around the table chuckle. Our instructors also didn’t tell us our targets would be twins like us. In fact, they didn’t even give us names. Swallowing hard, I walk on trembling legs toward the man, passing his friends, who stare at me like I’m going to be the next course.

Remembering everything I was taught, I take my target’s hand. He squeezes back in a grip so tight that I force myself not to wince.

He drags me onto his lap and murmurs into my ear, “Which one are you, Karen or Adele?”

“Adele.”

“Call me Cass.”

I stare across the table at my sister, who sits on the man’s lap, her eyes mirroring my terror. My fingers tremble, and my palms become slick against the cold fabric of my dress. This isn’t what they told us would happen. We were supposed to go in, take out our targets, and then leave.

The men restart their conversations, their laughter echoing through the room. Cass brings a tumbler to my mouth, filling my nostrils with the stench of liquor that smells worse than Mom’s nail polish remover. I let the liquid wet my lips but don’t swallow.

Across the table, Dolly meets my eyes again. She’s also pretending to drink.

“Relax,” Cass says, his arm tightening around my waist. His touch feels like a threat.

I breathe hard, reminding myself this isn’t much different from the private lessons. All I need to do is endure. When servers arrive with dessert, Cass adjusts me on his lap and tries to feed me a spoonful of chocolate mousse. I shake my head, remembering the instructors’ warning about drugged food.

“Worried about your figure?” he asks with a smirk, making the man beside him chuckle.

Shaking my head again, I glance across the table, where Dolly is eating the same dessert. The man feeding her takes a big spoonful for himself before offering her another, so I accept a tiny bite of the mousse. It might as well be whipped dog shit.

“Good girl,” Cass murmurs into my ear. “You and I are going to get along well.”

I force back a shudder. The rest of the dinner carries on with the men discussing finance, cars, and vacations, seeming to forget we exist. Then Cass’s hand slides down to my thigh, making every fine hair on my body stand on end. I block out his touch and focus on Dolly’s every move.

By the time the meal ends and the guests leave, my eyes are drooping from exhaustion. Cass scoops me up in his arms while his twin brother, Paul, does the same with Dolly. As they carry us out of the dining room and up a grand staircase, I fight to stay focused and alert.

Cass’s arm tightens around my waist even more as he and his brother part ways at the top of the stairs. When they walk in opposite directions, I twist around in his hold. Dolly’s eyes meet with mine for a heartbeat before Cass grabs my chin.

“None of that now,” he growls, his voice low and menacing. “Your attention is on me.”

I stare into his cold gray eyes, my heart pounding so hard that every inch of my body trembles. I need to remember the training. The moment we’re alone, I’ll strike. Then Dolly will meet me in the hallway, and we’ll escape together. I’ve rehearsed this in my mind a thousand times.

Cass pushes open the door to a dark room. Moonlight filters through a gap in the heavy drapes, casting eerie shadows on the antique furniture. As I scan for possible escape routes, he runs his fingers through my curls and removes the headband containing my hidden weapons.

“What’s this?” he asks, studying the object with a furrowed brow.

I freeze, my blood running cold.

He squeezes me tight around the middle, leaving me gasping for air.

“Cass,” I rasp. “I can’t breathe.”

He flicks a switch with his thumb, releasing a blade. With a roar, he tosses the headband on the floor and grabs me around the throat. “Tell me who sent you.”