Chapter 1 - The BasementThe cold woke me up.
Not the kind of cold that makes you shiver. The kind that seeps into your bones, that makes you forget what warmth ever felt like. My cheek was pressed against concrete. Rough. Damp. The smell of mold and dust filled my nostrils.
I didn't know where I was.
I didn't know how long I'd been there.
My head throbbed. There was a cut on my lip. I could taste blood, metallic and sharp. My wrists were raw. I'd been tied up. The rope was gone now, but the marks remained.
I pushed myself up. My arms screamed in protest. Every muscle in my body ached.
The room was dark. Small. A single sliver of light came from under a heavy door at the top of a short flight of stairs.
A basement.
I was in a basement.
Why?
I couldn't remember. The last thing I remembered was—
Nothing. Just darkness. Just falling.
A sound. Above me. Footsteps. Heavy. Then a child's laugh. High and bright.
My heart lurched.
I knew that laugh.
I knew it like I knew my own heartbeat.
But I couldn't place it. The memory was there, just out of reach. Like a word on the tip of my tongue.
Then the footsteps stopped. A door creaked open.
A woman's voice, sweet and sharp like honey laced with glass: "Hold still, baby. Let me fix your bow tie."
Baby.
The child's laugh again. "Mommy, can I see the cake? Please? I promise I'll be good."
Mommy.
The word hit me like a punch to the chest.
Mommy.
I pressed my hand to my mouth, muffling the sob that threatened to escape.
The woman's voice again: "You can see the cake after the ceremony. Now stand still. You look so handsome. Everyone is going to love you."
"Are you going to marry my daddy today?"
Daddy.
My stomach churned. I didn't know why. The words were innocent. A child asking a question. But something about it felt wrong. Deeply, terribly wrong.
"Of course I am, baby. Your daddy loves me. And he loves you. We're going to be a perfect family."
The child giggled again.
Then footsteps. Receding. A door closing.
Silence.
I slumped against the wall, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Who was that child?
Why did his laugh feel like a knife in my chest?
And why did the word "mommy" make me want to scream?
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. My nails were torn. There was dirt under them. I'd been clawing at something. The door? The walls? I didn't know.
Then I heard it again. The child's voice. Closer now. Just on the other side of the door.
"Mommy? Can I come down? I want to see the garden."
No answer.
The child's footsteps padded closer. Then they stopped.
A small face appeared in the crack of the door. A boy. Maybe four years old. Dark hair, dark eyes, a smudge of something on his cheek.
His eyes met mine.
And froze.
I stared at him. He stared at me.
For a long, breathless moment, neither of us moved.
Then his lips parted.
He whispered something. I couldn't hear it. But I saw his mouth move.
And I felt it. In my chest. In my bones. Like a thread tugging at my soul.
"You look like me," he whispered. "Why do you look like me?"
I didn't know the answer.
But I knew one thing.
This child was mine.
I didn't know how. I didn't know why. But I knew it. Deeper than memory. Deeper than reason.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling.
I opened my mouth to answer—
The door slammed shut.
A voice from above: "Leo! Get away from there! That's where the monsters live!"
The child screamed. Not in fear. In surprise.
Footsteps. Running. A cry: "Mommy! Mommy, I saw a lady! A lady in the basement!"
The woman's voice: "Don't be silly, baby. There's no lady down there. You were imagining things."
"But I saw her! She was real!"
"Leo, I said enough. Go to your room and wait. The wedding starts in an hour."
Wedding.
A wedding.
Who was getting married?
And why did I feel like I was about to lose everything?
I pressed my forehead against the cold concrete and let the tears come.
I didn't remember who I was.
I didn't remember how I got here.
But I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
May you like
That boy was my son.
And I was going to get him back.
