Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
More banging ensues. Someone’s door is slammed shut, but it isn’t mine.
A woman’s voice echoes through the hallways.
It isn’t Mary.
There is someone else here too.
Which means I’m definitely not alone anymore.
I jump out of bed in my short black nightgown and throw on the bathrobe lying on the floor before walking to the door. I lay my ear against it and listen. Footsteps move away from the hallway and march down the stairs. Another loud bang makes me pull away, but it’s not my door that’s banged.
It’s the one next to mine.
My eyes widen, and I step back to stare at the wall next to the door. Covered in lavish tapestries, it has a huge cabinet and a big lounge chair in front of it. With all my strength, I shove aside the chair and cabinet, throwing all my weight into moving them. When they’re finally gone from the wall, I blow out a huge breath, then slam my fists against the wall … and wait.
Nothing.
So I pound on it again, and again, and again.
A knock makes me stop.
My heartbeat is pounding in my throat.
Another knock.
Violent thoughts of escaping this place rush through my veins, exploding into a tortured smile. Tears cascade down my face. I am not alone anymore, and that is both a blissful and agonizing reality to face.
“Hello?” I yell, hoping they can hear me.
But there’s no response, and now I’m starting to worry. Will I ever be able to communicate with my fellow prisoner? Assuming this is even someone like me. What if it’s one of them? It could be Tobias or Soren. Someone mad enough to throw stuff around and slam a door shut. And maybe they only responded to me pounding the wall to amuse themselves.
I sigh and sink to the floor, not caring about the spider webs that appeared from behind the cabinet, and I place a hand on the wall. I refuse to believe it. There’s no way one of those three would have a room right next to mine. It would make more sense that they have their own wing in this giant house.
I have to believe another captive is in here—someone who needs me as much as I need them—and there has to be a way we can communicate.
But what do I do?
I look to my left and my right, but the only thing still covering the wall is a part of the long drapes in front of the windows. So I crawl over there across the dust and shove aside the curtains. Excitement warms my chest so much that it makes me want to burst into screams. Near the corner is a vent, smaller than a hand but large enough to peek through. But better yet, the cameras can’t reach this spot.
I lie down on my back and turn my head to have a look. There’s a small airflow tube behind it, probably to ventilate the rooms, which isn’t covered by anything, so I can see straight into the other room. It’s like a peephole for mice.
The thought of them crawling across my floor makes my skin crawl. But there’s no point in dawdling on tiny details when something much more important is on hand.
I knock on the wall again, this time right next to the vent, in the hopes that whoever is on the other side of this wall will go to her knees and look. She knocks too, but she’s not even close.
“Down here,” I say.
There’s some shuffling, and a wardrobe is moved. Maybe it was blocking the vent.
Then two eyes with beautiful copper irises appear out of nowhere. They stare right back at me as the pupils dilate.
“It’s you,” I mutter.
“Who are you?” It’s definitely a girl, judging by the voice.
“I’m a prisoner, just like you,” I say. “My name is Amelia. What’s yours?”
“Anna,” she replies. “What is this place?”
Wait, so she doesn’t know either? I thought I could ask her. Damn.
“I don’t know. All I know is that this man brought me here. His name is Eli.”
Her eyes widen. “I know that name. That’s the guy who told us why we were here.”
My heart races. “What did he say?”
“Um … something about us needing re-education for our sins or something,” she mutters.
Sins? So he’s attempting to do the same thing to her too now.
She groans. “It’s all a bit fuzzy. It all went so fast.”
They must’ve drugged her too. “Are you nauseous?” I ask.
“No, just … confused. That’s all.” She sighs. “But I don’t get it. I don’t understand why they sent me here.”
I frown. “Who did?”
“My grandparents.”
I don’t see her eyes anymore, but her face is still visible, along with the tears rolling down her cheeks. I touch the wall, wishing I could get closer, so I could give her a warm hug.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.