Thud
I jerk toward the sound. Something just slammed into the window hard enough to rattle the glass.
What the hell?
I pad across the floor, my bare feet silent on the hardwood, and press my palm against the floor-to-ceiling window to peer out into the swirling snow.
There’s something lying on the snow outside, right beside the window.
But it’s not a bird.
It’s…a butterfly.
A massive, iridescent blue butterfly—like the paperweight in Bastian’s study.
And it’s not the only one. Another two butterflies lie in the snow nearby, the wings of one of them fluttering as if it’s clinging to life.
That’s not possible.
This can’t be?—
Thud
Another butterfly slams into the window right in front of my face, causing me to scream and fall back. Then another. Another.
They’re coming from everywhere now, dozens of them materializing out of the snow like demons. They sound like a continuous roll of thunder as they batter the glass, their bodies piling up on the ledge, their beady, compound eyes fixed on me with alarming intensity. The more they pile up, the darker the room becomes—their blue-black wings and furry bodies blocking every glimmer of light.
My legs hit the bed, halting my escape.
“What is happening!” I yell.
A hand claps over my mouth, muffling my scream. Cruel fingers dig into my arms, yanking me backward—fingers I know all too well. Hands I willneverforget the feel of.
“Thought you were safe, bitch?”
No.
No, no, no!
I can’t turn around. But I don’t need to—I’d recognize Uncle Lenny’s voice anywhere.
I thrash against his grip, but he’s always outmatched me.
He laughs—that wet, phlegmy sound that used to make me want to vomit—and drags me onto the bed.
“Been waiting for this,” he breathes against my ear. “Been waitingsolong,princess.”
Tears stream down my face as he shoves me onto the mattress.
Face down. Ass up.
His weight settles over me, pinning me on the bed. I can feel him fumbling with his belt, can hear the clink of the buckle, and I squeeze my eyes shut because I can’t let this happen, I can’t, Ican’t?—
The weight disappears.
There’s athumpof flesh meeting flesh—and Uncle Lenny makes a noise I’ve never heard him make before.
Fear.
