CHAPTER 1: THE FLOOR
The phone was inches away, but it might as well have been miles.
I lay sprawled on the cold marble floor of my family's estate, my cheek pressed against the polished stone, my blood pooling beneath me like a dark, spreading shadow. Every breath sent a knife of fire through my ribs. Every movement caused fresh waves of agony to crash through my skull.
But I had to reach it.
I had to.
The phone glowed on the coffee table, its screen dark and silent, waiting for my touch. Just a few more inches. Just one more push.
I dragged my arm across the floor, the skin of my forearm scraping against the rough edge of the Persian rug. My fingernails clawed at the marble. My vision swam in and out of focus.
Somewhere behind me, a woman sighed.
"Really, Claire. It's pathetic to watch."
I knew that voice.
Vivian.
My brother's wife. The woman in the emerald green dress who had been sitting in the velvet chair, sipping champagne, while her husband's fists did their work.
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a wet, choking sound.
"Oh, don't try to talk," Vivian said lazily. "You'll just make more of a mess. James already has to clean up the floor. Don't make him mop up the furniture too."
I kept crawling.
One inch.
Two inches.
My fingers brushed the edge of the coffee table.
"Still going?" Vivian's voice was almost amused now. "I admire the tenacity, really. But you're only making it worse for yourself."
My hand closed around the phone.
I pulled it toward me, my fingers trembling so violently I could barely hold it. The screen lit up. My thumb hovered over the emergency call button.
And then I stopped.
Because I wasn't calling the police.
I was calling the one person who had always protected me. The only person in this twisted family who had ever loved me.
James.
My brother. Her husband.
I pressed the call button.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
On the third ring, someone picked up.
I tried to speak, but the words came out as nothing but a broken whisper.
"James... please... help me..."
The line went silent for a moment.
Then James's voice came through, cold and flat. "Claire? Where are you?"
"Home. The estate. He... they..."
I couldn't finish. The world was fading. The edges of my vision were going black.
"I'll be right there," James said.
I heard Vivian laugh softly behind me.
"Right there," she repeated, mocking. "Isn't that sweet?"
I didn't understand.
Why was Vivian laughing?
Why was she so calm?
And then I realized.
Vivian wasn't laughing because she was cruel.
She was laughing because she already knew what was about to happen.
Because James was already here.
He'd never left.
The phone slipped from my fingers.
The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was Vivian standing over me, her green dress pooling around her feet like poison.
May you like
"Fix it," she said to someone I couldn't see. "She saw too much."
And then I was gone.
