My body came into sharp, hard contact with a mint-green wall as he shoved me forward. I pressed myself into the corner of the room, shaking violently and praying he would miraculously have a change of heart and let me go. Just do what he says, I told myself. If I stayed calm and maybe got talking to him, I could convince him to let me go, or I could somehow escape.
With a small grunt, he pushed a shoulder-height bookcase out of the way, revealing a door handle. He pushed the hidden door open and I gasped as my eyes landed on a wooden staircase inside. My head swam. Down there was where he was going to do whatever he planned on doing to me. I pictured a dirty, dingy room with a wooden operating table, trays of sharp equipment, and a mold-covered sink.
I found my voice and screamed again, this time not stopping when my throat burned. “No, no,” I shouted over and over at the top of my lungs. My chest heaved as I gasped for air. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.
With his strong grip, he dragged me with ease even though I thrashed around as hard as I could. It was like I weighed nothing to him. I was pushed to the narrow, exposed-brick wall opposite the door. He gripped my arm again, harder, and pushed me halfway down the stairs. I stood still, frozen in shock and not fully registering what was happening.
My eyes widened as I looked around. I was in a large room painted in a surprisingly pretty light blue—too pretty for a crazy man’s torture cellar. There was a small kitchen along one end, two brown leather sofas, and a chair in the corner that faced a small television in the middle of the room, and three wooden doors opposite the kitchen. I was almost as shocked by what was actually down here than I was relieved.
It didn’t look like a cellar. It was too clean and tidy, everything tucked away neatly. The smell of lemon hit me, making my nose tingle. Four vases sat proudly on the side table behind the dining table and chairs; one held roses, one violets, one poppies. The fourth was empty.
I collapsed on the step, grasping the wall to stop myself from falling down the stairs. The door slammed shut, sending a shiver down my spine. Now I was trapped. I let out a startled cry and jumped into the hard wall as three women stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs. One of them, a pretty brunette who reminded me a little of my mum in her early twenties, smiled warmly but sadly and held her hand out. “Come, Lily.”
2
SUMMER
Saturday, July 24 (Present)
She took a few steps up toward me, still holding out her hand as if she honestly expected me to take it. “Come on, Lily, it’s okay.” I didn’t move. I couldn’t. She took another step. My heart raced in panic, and I pressed my back farther into the wall, trying to get away from her. What did they want from me?
“I-I’m not Lily. Please tell him, please? I’m not Lily. I need to get out. Please help me,” I begged, backing up the rest of the stairs until I came to the door. Turning, I slammed my fists against the metal, ignoring the pain that shot through my wrists.
“Lily, stop! Let me explain,” she said and held her hand out again. Couldn’t she see I wasn’t going to take it? She was fucking delusional if she thought I was going to trust her.
I turned back and gasped at how close to me she was. She held her hands up, surrendering, and took another step. “It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.” Tears streamed down my cheeks and I shook my head. “Please, come and sit down, and we’ll explain everything.” She motioned toward the leather sofa. I looked at it for a minute while I thought through my options—which were seriously limited. I had to know what was happening and who they were, so I raised my shaking hand and placed it in hers.
My body tensed, muscles hurt from trying to control my shaking. Why didn’t I just go with Kerri? I should have never walked through the park on my own at night. I should have listened to Lewis when he lectured me on going out alone. I thought he was just being overprotective. He was overprotective, but I never thought he had a point. Long Thorpe was a boring town. Was.
“Okay, Lily—”
“Stop calling me Lily. My name is Summer,” I snapped. I couldn’t have cared less who Lily was; I just wanted them to realize it wasn’t me and let me go.
“Sweetheart,” the girl who had pulled me downstairs said softly, as if she was talking to a child. “You are Lily now. Don’t ever let him hear you say you’re not.”
I gulped. “What’s going on? What do you mean? Please just tell him to let me go.” I gulped down oxygen as my lungs seemed to shrink. “Why won’t you listen to me?”
“I’m sorry, you can’t go. None of us can. I’ve been here the longest—almost three years now. My name is Rose,” she said and shrugged. “It used to be Shannen. This is Poppy, was Rebecca, and over there is Violet; she was Jennifer before.” What the heck? This was bloody insane. She had been locked up down here for three years?
“B-before what?” I croaked.
“Before Clover,” she replied.
I shook my head, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Who’s Clover? Him?” The sick Lily bastard man? “Please just tell me what’s going on. What’s he going to do to me?”
“We’re to call him Clover. You do everything we tell you, and you’ll be fine, okay? Never disagree with him and do not tell him your real name. You’re Lily now. Summer doesn’t exist anymore,” she said, smiling apologetically. A strangled sob forced its way out of my mouth, and I fought to keep my diner down. I can’t stay here. She put her arm on my shoulder and massaged it gently. I wanted to scream and push her off, but I didn’t have the energy. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I-I want to go home. I want Lewis.” I want my nagging parents, annoying brother, and my old, boring life back.
The other girl, the one she introduced as Poppy, shook her head. “I’m so, so sorry, Lily. You should forget Lewis. Trust me, it’s easier that way.” Forget him? How could I forget him? Picturing his face was the only thing that was keeping me together. Knowing he was out there and would soon look for me was the only thing stopping me from breaking down.
“We need to escape. Why don’t you try escaping?” They all dropped their eyes to the floor at the exact same time, as if they’d practiced it. “What?”
“Some have,” Rose whispered.
My blood ran cold. “What does that mean?” I already knew the answer, but I needed her to say it.
“You’re the second Lily since I’ve been here. That’s why you need to do what we tell you. Escaping is not an option; neither is trying to kill him.” She shook her head slightly and stopped talking. I got the impression she wanted to say more, though. Who tried to kill him?
They had all given up hope of getting out of here—I could see the defeat in their eyes—but I wasn’t going to. I would get out and be with my family again. I couldn’t think that I would never hear Lewis tell me he loved me again or my brother scream at me to get out of the bathroom.
“Wait, what do you mean I’m the second Lily?”
She took my hand and squeezed it gently. “There was another. She was here a month before he found me. One night, she attempted to kill him, but he overpowered her and…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath. “Just don’t try anything, okay?”