My fingers tremble as I raise them to the closest cluster of photos.
The curve of my waist. The corner of my eye. Right above my crack.
I end up pressing a finger to what I think is a part of my collarbone.
It doesn’t go away. I don’t magically blink my eyes open and find myself in my own bed.
I’m.
Still.
Here.
“No.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, silencing a horrified scream. “No.”
Repeating the word ten or twenty more times doesn’t help. Doesn’t change a goddamn thing.
Everything that’s happened to me is real.
My eyes dart across the wall without my permission, and I flinch. I cry. Catching glimpses of white gel-like splotches on my skin is nearly as nauseating as their texture.
I should slip through the door, tiptoe down the hallways. Sneak out. Run back home as fast as I can.
I will.
“My clothes.” I whip around, running to the bed to start looking for them. “I need my clothes. Where are they?”
They’re not on top of the covers. Not under. The floor is pristine.
I let out a frustrated groan, but I don’t give up. With my hand stretched out under the bed, I check to see if my monster missed something there. Even just my blouse.
Nothing.
Still searching for clothes, I tear open the first dresser drawer just as the door to the room opens.
“No!” I’ve never sprinted so fast in my life.
The only thing I care about is getting to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.
A whimper escapes me when I notice the door is missing a lock. There’s no furniture to drag over and barricade myself inside, either. Everything here is built in.
“Crap!” I throw my back against the door and dig my heels into the floor.
As if this day hasn’t been bad enough, now my reflection stares at me from the vanity mirror.
Wide eyes. Pale cheeks. Dark circles. Hair wild.
The last time I looked this horrified and trapped was when Barclay told me we were broke and that no, we were not selling the house. Over his dead body.
“Miss Montgomery?” A woman’s voice barely reaches me over the blood roaring in my ears. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally. I’m Miss Holt. Mary. Herbert mentioned me, he said?”
I don’t fall for her sweet act. Shaking my head, I shout, “Get out.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” She knocks gently, and I dig my heels deeper into the floor. “The Restorer asked me to deliver this box and stay until it’s been received and opened. So…it’s either the easy way or the hard way. I hope you choose wisely and come out.”
“Never.” I’m determined and desperate enough to hold my ground. “Leave me alone.”
Her sigh is a sad one. “The hard way it is.”
