The substance Candice injected into me must be messing with my mind… hallucinations, maybe. That’s the only explanation for what I’m seeing. Because there’s no way I’m actually at Alex’s estate. But my brain… it’s trying to convince me otherwise. I see myself stumbling down the grand staircase of the Blackwood mansion, the marble steps spinning under my feet. I feel the impact. Every roll. Every slam against the cold stone. Above me, the chandelier twinkles like stars through my half-closed eyes. There’s shouting—someone’s screaming, but the sound comes in waves, distorted like it’s floating underwater. Then there’s something wet. Lodged between my thighs. I blink, and Lucy’s face is hovering above mine. What the hell? She looks… different. Her cheeks are rounder, her hair cut short and blunt around her jawline. She’s staring at me, her brows pinched in worry. Why is she in my dream? Why does it feel so real? I groan and drag my hand down between my thighs. My fingers
“The smelling salt didn’t work?” A woman’s voice, calm but annoyed, cuts through the fuzz in my head. A man replies, but I can’t hear him clearly. Everything sounds like it’s underwater. My eyes sting as I try to open them. Where the hell am I? “She’s awake. Great. Hey, wake up.” Cold fingers grab my jaw, tilting my head up. I try to open my eyes again, but the light burns. Everything is too bright. There’s a weird prickling sensation on my left leg, and I want to reach down and scratch it. But I can’t. My arms won’t move. My wrists are tied. The memories crash into me all at once. The container. Jake. My clothes. The needle. The rope. “Bitch, wake the fuck up. Geez.” That same cold hand smacks lightly against my face. Then I smell it—salt. Sharp and bitter. I cough and jerk back, my eyes finally blinking open. The flashlight is blinding, and I flinch. When I manage to look down, my breath catches. I’m not naked anymore, but what I’m wearing isn’t much better. A scra
Lashings? She couldn’t possibly mean— And what the hell was Jake doing here? He was part of this? I stare, frozen, as Jake’s heavily booted, mud-caked feet step onto the cold metal floor of the container, his gaze carefully avoiding mine. A helmet dangles from his left arm, He faces Gratia, standing rigidly like a soldier awaiting orders. With the light now streaming in from the open door, I finally get a full look at her. Gratia—draped in a white linen blouse tucked into sharply tailored white pants that somehow remain spotless despite the mud outside. Her wrists are stacked with heavy beads that clink with every small movement. The flashlight is now dangling from her other hand, its beam dancing across the walls. Her raven black hair is pulled back tightly, and her lips are painted a harsh red that makes her smile look even colder. “I was in the middle of a race,” Jake mutters irritably, shifting the helmet to his other arm. Still, his eyes refuse to meet mine. “That
“Mum? I’m heading out…. Just though to let you know..”. I trailed off on the bottom of the staircase. No answer. With a sigh, I step out onto the front porch, tucking my hair behind my ear as I glance up at the sky. The clouds are heavy—looks like it’s going to pour soon. The debate in my head won’t stop. Should I meet with Alex or not? Candice would be pissed if she knew, but she doesn’t know him like I do. What really gets under my skin is that Joseph hasn’t bothered to call. Not once. I shake the thought away and start walking down the street, deciding to explore the length of my new neighborhood. I’ll stop at the gas station near the end and hitch a ride from there. I don’t want Alex picking me up here. Not sure why—maybe it’s the weird feeling that Mum might be watching from the window— “Isla!” A deep voice calls out behind me—one I recognize instantly. I spin around and see Drew behind the wheel of a sleek black BMW. He’s turning into my neighborhood, but he doe
“You only ever call me when you need something,” Candice says, her voice cold. “You didn’t even tell me about the diaries… Now it makes sense why you kept it from me—why you didn’t want me to know your husband killed Nadia.” The words sting. I shut her up with a sharp hiss. “Shhh. He didn’t kill anyone. Don’t you get it? They’re trying to frame him. And Joseph is involved.” My eyes drift out to the street below. I grip the edge of the balcony, the air cool against my skin. I still haven’t gotten over that message from last night—the one I now know was from my twin. I haven’t even responded to Alex’s call. I couldn’t. Not after that. Candice leans back on the balcony rail, arms stretched, her back pressed against the cool metal. Her blonde hair blows around her face in the wind as she looks at me with raised brows. “Right… Joseph. As in your father, right?” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “…Right.” “But what does he gain though?” Candice asks, squinting like she
“You’re being ridiculous. I would have… I would…” I cut him off, anger brimming in me. Forgetting the slight pain that shoots through me as I scramble to my feet, covering myself with my clothes. He was already in his pants, and the look on his face… “You would have what, Alex?” I bite, voice sharp. “It’s not like you ever thought I was worth your while. Is it so shocking that I was a virgin?” He winces at my statement, shoving his hands into his hair, and looks away from me, eyes locked on the fireplace. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says suddenly, turning to look at me again. He winces, like the sight in front of him is something he’s ruined beyond repair. “I’ll give you anything you want…” “I… I don’t want anything from you,” I murmur, voice small. The hurt sits heavy in my chest—the fact that I actually enjoyed it, and now he’s making it seem like he did something terrible. “You can’t possibly not want anything after I’ve just… just ruined you…” He winces again at t