"See, I told you the roofies would be handy."
I know that voice. I definitely know it. But my brain can't connect it to a name or face yet, the synapses firing too slowly, thoughts moving through sludge.
My head is throbbing with a pain that pulses in time with my heartbeat, each throb making my skull feel like it might split open. The weight of it is incredible, like someone replaced my brain with lead. I try to lift my hand to touch it, to press against my temple where the pain is worst.
I can't move.
My whole body feels heavy, weighted down like I'm underwater or buried under blankets or pinned by something I can't see.
It's not just heaviness. There's resistance. Actual physical resistance when I try to move my wrists.
My hands are tied.
I force my eyes open, the lids heavy and reluctant. My head is hanging low, chin nearly touching my chest. I can see my feet below me, ankles bound with what looks like zip ties to the legs of a chair. Both my hands behind my back and my feet in front. I'm completely immobilized.
When I finally manage to lift my head, fighting against muscles that don't want to cooperate, the first thing I see is my brother.
Henry.
Standing maybe ten feet away, leaning over a derelict table that looks like it's been here for decades. His head is bent. His hand moves to his nose. He snorts a line of white powder with practiced efficiency.
I close my eyes immediately, a reflex, like if I can't see it then it isn't real. My breathing becomes frantic, shallow and fast, panic rising in my throat like bile.
This can't be real. I'm hallucinating.
The last thing I remember with any clarity is walking to Henry's house after getting Sarah's panicked text. Sarah answered the door with a smile that seemed genuine. She said she was feeling better, that the pains had stopped, that she probably overreacted because it was her first pregnancy and everything scared her. But since I was already there, why didn't we have some tea and catch up?
And then nothing. A blank space where memory should be. Just gone, like someone cut the film.
I try to take a steadying breath but it's painful, my chest tight and constricted, ribs aching like I've been hit.
I force myself to look around, to assess, to understand where I am and what's happening.
The space is industrial, all concrete and metal and cold surfaces. Abandoned, clearly, with that particular kind of neglect that comes from years of disuse. A storage facility maybe, or the back section of a warehouse.
There isn't much light. A few bare bulbs hanging from exposed beams, casting harsh shadows that make everything look menacing. It must be night by now, though I have no idea how long I've been here or how long I was unconscious.
I can hear water somewhere close. The steady rush and lap of a river maybe, nearby but muffled by concrete walls.
The sharp sound of snorting brings my attention back to the table. This time it's Sarah bent over the surface, her blonde hair falling forward as she leans down. She straightens, wiping her nose, her eyes bright and dilated.
Cold runs down my spine like ice water in my veins, the realization settling into my bones with sickening certainty.
Henry and Sarah drugged me. Waited for me to pass out. Brought me here while I was unconscious and helpless.
But why? What could they possibly want that would lead to this?
Sarah notices me watching. Turns her head and smiles, the expression wrong, too wide, chemically enhanced. "Babe, I think she's awake."
Henry looks over at me finally, his eyes hazy and unfocused, pupils blown wide from whatever he just put up his nose. He shrugs one shoulder with complete indifference, like my consciousness is mildly interesting but not particularly important.
I find my voice after a few tries, my throat dry and words coming out raspy. "Why are you doing this?"
Henry's face twists into something ugly, resentment and anger flooding his features. "It's your fault, Lily. All of it. I found out you're engaged to Luan Krasniqi. Filthy fucking rich. Powerful.Connected. And you didn't even tell me? Your own brother? Didn't invite me to the engagement party? You always were a selfish bitch, always thinking you're better than me."
His voice is rising, becoming more erratic, more aggressive with each word. The paranoia and grandiosity of someone high and spiraling. Only now do I notice the gun in his hand, hanging at his side almost casually, like it's an extension of his arm. Black metal catching the harsh light.
Terror spikes through me but I push it down. Try to stay calm. Try to explain. "Henry, please. I can explain. It's complicated. The engagement happened fast. I was going to tell you, I just needed time to figure out how."
