My mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?” My voice came out high and unsteady. “Ash, what is this place?”
“This is where he kept me, too.” He looked away. “Dad built this room into the back corner of the basement.”
Nausea twisted in my gut as I froze. I looked around again at the makeshift room. The strange padding. The absence of light. The bucket. The bolted door.
This was a cage.
Goose bumps broke out along my arms as the air seemed to vanish from the room. My head snapped back to Ash. “You have to let me out,” I said. “You can’t keep me in here.”
Ash’s jaw ticced. “It’s what’s best right now.”
“What’s best?” I gasped. “What’s best is that you let me go. Right now.”
I hated the desperate edge in my voice, but this was a nightmare. My pulse thundered in my ears.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Dad kept me down here for a while after he found out the trouble I was getting into. He said it was to protect me.” He glanced at the four walls closing us in. “You’ll be protected here.”
I started gasping for breath, panic taking root inside my chest. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. My brother wouldn’t do this to me.
“Ash…” My voice cracked, and the room began to spin. “Is he here? Did he tell you to do this?”
Ash’s entire body stiffened. Something dark crossed over his face. Something furious and broken.
“He doesn’t tell me what to do anymore,” he said through clenched teeth. “I thought we were doing the right thing by keeping track of you, making sure you were safe, but then I found out that he’s a liar.”
I gaped at him, lost and horrified. “What did you do, Ash?”
His head tilted, stare unfocused—as if he were seeing through me.
“He’s back there now,” Ash said, voice vacant of emotion. “He’s been there for the last seven years. He doesn’t bother me. He doesn’t bother anyone anymore.”
He hooked a thumb, gesturing toward the wall behind him.
Following the direction he pointed, I tried to make sense of it. I traced the layout of the house in my mind, trying to orient myself, to figure out where that wall faced.
My eyes widened when it sunk in. He was pointing toward the backyard.
Ice shot through me. My limbs trembled as it clicked.
“Did you…did you kill him?”
Ash’sexpression hardened. “I did what I had to do.”
I swallowed back vomit. Not for the man who had made our childhood a living hell—but for Ash. For whatever had snapped inside him that had led us here.
“Oh, Ash…” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.
He clenched his fists. Scratches covered his hands and arms—scratches from me. From dragging me down here. From the struggle. They were raw and angry, like the fire behind his words.
“He deserved it,” Ash snapped. “He killed her, Skye. He told me he did. I couldn’t let him live after that.”
It was like being punched in the chest. I couldn’t breathe. The room swayed, tilting as if the floor might fall out from under me.
“What—” I couldn’t think. “What are you talking about?”
Ash’s gaze met mine. For a moment, he looked so sad.
“He killed our mom,” he said softly. “He killed her and dumped her body where no one will ever find it.”
