“Now, now, daenae be rude,” her father said, stepping forward. His eyes were bloodshot, and he swayed slightly on his feet. Drunk again. Always drunk. “These gentlemen are here to discuss a business arrangement.”
“What arrangement?” Piper’s heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear her own voice. “I daenae understand.”
“Ye see, darlin’,” her mother said, that false sweetness still dripping from every word. “Yer faither and I have had a wee bit of bad luck lately. The dice havenae been kind to us, and we’ve found ourselves in a spot of debt.”
“Quite a large debt,” the scarred man added, his thin lips curving into something that might have been a smile. “Ten thousand pounds. Plus interest.”
Ten thousand?Piper felt the blood drain from her face. That was more money than she could earn in a lifetime. More than most villagers would see in ten lifetimes.
“We’ve been very patient,” the man with the missing ear said. “But patience has its limits. We came to collect today, one way or another.”
“And that’s where ye come in, sweet girl,” her father said. He wouldn’t meet Piper’s eyes. “We cannae pay them in coin, but we can offer them somethin’ else. Somethin’ valuable.”
No. They couldn’t mean?—
“We’re offerin’ ye, darlin’,” her mother said brightly. “As payment for our debt. Isnae that wonderful? Ye’ll finally be worth somethin’!”
The world tilted. Piper heard the words, understood them individually, but together they made no sense. Her parents were selling her. Actually selling her, like she was cattle or furniture or a bolt of cloth.
“Ye… ye cannae…” Piper stammered, looking between her parents’ faces, searching for any hint of remorse, of hesitation, of humanity. She found nothing. “I’m yer daughter.”
“Ye’re a burden,” her father said flatly. “Always have been. Eatin’ our food, takin’ up space, costin’ us money. At least, this way, ye’ll be useful for once.”
“The arrangement is simple,” the scarred man said. “Ye come with us, ye work off yer parents’ debt, and everyone walks away happy.”
“Work doin’ what?” Piper whispered, though some part of her already knew. Already understood the hungry way the third man was looking at her.
The scarred man’s smile widened. “Whatever we tell ye to do, lass.”
“Nay.” The word came out stronger than Piper expected. “Nay, I willnae. Ye cannae make me.”
“Oh, I think we can,” the man with the missing ear said, taking a step toward her.
Piper ripped her arm free from her mother’s grasp and stumbled backward. Her mind was screaming at her to run, to fight, to dosomething.
“Daenae be difficult, Piper,” her mother said, her voice hardening. “Ye owe us this. After all we’ve done for ye.”
“All ye’ve done?” Piper’s voice cracked. “All ye’ve done is beat me and steal from me and tell me I’m worthless! I owe ye nothin’!”
“Ye ungrateful little—” Her father lunged forward, but Piper was already moving.
She turned and ran.
“Get her!” the scarred man bellowed. “Daenae let her escape!”
Piper’s feet pounded against the dirt road. Behind her, she heard shouting, the sound of heavy boots giving chase. Her lungs burned. Her side cramped. But she didn’t stop.
Run. Just run.
She veered off the main road, cutting through Mrs. MacLeish’s garden and leaping over a low stone wall. She could hear them behind her, getting closer. Three men, all larger and faster than she was.
Please. Please, I cannae let them catch me.
She turned down an alley between two cottages, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her vision blurred with tears. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.
The alley opened into a small courtyard. Piper skidded to a stop, her heart plummeting.
Dead end.
