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Only, when I got home hours later, she wasn’t there.

At first, I didn’t worry.

Sometimes Marcia took her to the office with her or dropped her off with her parents or mine.

But this time, something felt off.

As I moved through the house, more of that “off” feeling started to take root.

It became glaringly obvious when I got to Marcia’s closet and saw that the entire thing was empty.

There were no clothes, no shoes.

No documents.

I rushed toward Shelby’s room and…nothing.

There was nothing there, either.

Prologue II

You’re about as pleasant as an itchy butthole.

—Jessamy’s secret thoughts about Sheriff Black Adkins

Jessamy

Age 13

The slap across my face snapped my head to the side so fast that I had no chance to prepare.

Before I could stop myself, I landed on the ground and then ultimately ending up flat on my back.

“That is the last fucking time that I’m telling you,” my father snarled. “Your brother is three! He did not do those things! Stop blaming him and grow up!”

My father walked away, but my brother didn’t.

He was two, almost three, years old.

And he was the most evil thing that I’d ever met in my life.

He smiled at me, all innocently, but walked away. The lighter was still in his hand.

I looked down at the dog’s fur that’d been singed.

I had to put it out with my bare hands.

I looked at my hands, grimacing when I saw the raised blisters from the fire.

They hurt.

Really, really bad.

The dog, a stray that had wandered up into our yard, came over to me and nudged me on the shoulder.

I hugged him hard, then I cried.

Jessamy