She whimpered.
The rasp of soles was louder now.
Someone was here.
She lifted her face. Wished she could see.
Maybe she didn’t want to see.
Please, please, God, help me. Let someone come find me!
The rustle of fabric warned her that whoever was here had crouched next to her.
Fingers twisted in her hair.
She tried to scream. Couldn’t.
“The gossip girl.”
She shuddered at the cruel voice.
Had to be the devil ... Matilda had warned her. She’d probably taken off last night to hide like she said she might. That had to be why she hadn’t shown up to meet Polly.
A sob tore at her chest. She was going to die.
The devil put his face close to hers. She tried to draw away. Savage fingers stopped her with a harsh twist.
“You should think before you speak,” he whispered close to her ear, the voice barely audible.
The sobs wouldn’t stop. She choked and gagged, but they just kept coming.
“But,” the devil said, “I’ve decided to give you a second chance.”
Quiet! Listen. What was it saying?
“I’ve decided to trade a gossip for a fraud.”
The voice ... it was ... male, she was sure of it. A man?
No. She trembled. It was the devil.
Oh, God.
“Don’t you want that?”
What did he mean? Her body quaked and shuddered. She wanted to run away. To wake up and find out this was just a bad dream.
“You’re a very lucky girl, Polly Gossip. A fraud is going to take your place.”
He reached between her legs.
She tried to jerk away, tried to scream.
Something ripped.
Her hands were suddenly free from her feet. She tried to work them loose from each other. Couldn’t.
“Be a good girl now,” he warned.
