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CHAPTER 5

MADDISON

Music is boomingthrough the house, the volume so deafening that the floors vibrate with the bass thumping. Usually, I like music, but the sound of laughter and the occasional shrieking, manic laughter has me on edge.

My parents are having a party, like they do every weekend. During these times, I’m instructed to lock myself in my room. Normally, I’m okay with that, but this particular party sounds like a bunch of lunatics have locked themselves in a padded room and are going insane. They’ve also been at it for over twelve hours, and I’m hungry, bored, and I have to pee.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. Standing up from my bed, I pad over to my bedroom door and unlock it. Then, sucking in a breath, I open the door. I immediately get overwhelmed by the stench of smoke and rotting food. But that’s pretty typical for my house, so I ignore it and step out into the hallway. A couple is making out just a ways down, but they’re too distracted to notice me, so I make a beeline into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

I use the bathroom as quickly as I can, wash my hands, and then prepare to run back into my room. I wish I could grab something to eat from the kitchen, but if my parents see medoing so, they will be so mad. Plus, there’s a huge chance we’re out of food, anyway.

I can’t wait until school on Monday. At least there I can get something to eat?—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I tense as someone knocks on the bathroom door.

I’m unsure if I should say anything since I’m supposed to be in my room.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Maddy,” a man says through the door.

I remain frozen. Who the heck is out there?

“Maddy girl, it’s me, your dad’s friend, Brock,” the man says through the door. “Open up. I’m supposed to take you to get something to eat.”

I hesitate. I know Brock. He hangs around here a lot, and he seems nice. Plus, my dad and him are close. It’s weird, though, that he’d take me to get something to eat when no one ever does.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Knock, knock, knock, Maddy,” he says as he knocks. “Come on, sweetie; open the door. I know you’ve gotta be starving by now.”

Biting my lip, I reach for the doorknob …

Knock. Knock. Knock?—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyelids spring open. For a heart-soaring instant, I still think I’m seven years old and back in that bathroom. But sluggishly, the haziness of sleep evaporates from my body, and I realize I’m eighteen years old, lying in my bed, and someone is banging on the door.

Could it still be Drew? How much time has gone by since I fell asleep?

Sitting up, I reach for my phone and check the time. “Holy crap, I slept for like twelve hours.” I can’t even remember the last time that happened.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I consider letting the knocking continue until Drew gets bored and leaves, but what if it isn’t Drew? I should probably check.

I exit my bedroom, pad to the living room window, and I’m pulling back the curtain right as the person knocks again. I blink several times against the bright sunlight shining down from the cloudless sky before seeing anything. And once I can, I’m so damn perplexed because standing in front of my apartment door is a man and woman who I’ve never seen before. What makes the entire situation so bizarre is that they’re dressed in formal attire; the man wearing a pressed suit and tie, and the woman a pencil shirt and button-down silk blouse. They look straight out of a business magazine and out of place in this dump of an apartment complex. Maybe they have the wrong place?

Letting go of the curtain, I walk over to the front door and open it as the woman is about to knock again.

She startles mid-knock then lowers her hand and smiles at me. “Are you Maddison Averly?”

“Um … yeah?” In the pit of my mind, concern is rising that they’re here because my mother did something terrible or illegal.

“Oh, good.” A smile remains painted on her lips. “Your last address listed in the system hasn’t been updated in years, so we weren’t positive if you still lived here.” Her phone rings, and she fetches it out, her gaze scrolling over the screen.