Madison's fingers tightened around her cell phone as if it were a talisman, some ancient ward against the creeping dread that had settled in her chest weeks ago. She lay flat on her bed, staring at the ceiling's water stain—a Rorschach blot that, depending on her mood, resembled either a crooked smile or a scream.
The cell phone buzzed, a cold spike in her bloodstream. She didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was. Erik. Again.
She swiped to answer, pressing the phone to her ear, her voice a harsh whisper. "I told you, never call, only text."
"You don't tell me what to do." Erik's voice slithered through the speaker, cold and flat.
"Now's not a good time." Madison's eyes darted to her bedroom door. A thin rectangle of light beneath it—the only evidence that she wasn't alone in this house prison.
"Ya, bet it isn't!" Erik's laugh was sandpaper. "Ya messin' with the wrong person. After all I did for ya, ya gonna do me like this!? Ya can't play me!" His voice rose, and Madison lowered the volume, terrified that someone might hear.
"Savage!" It was all she could manage, a word that meant nothing and everything between them.
Madison sat up, her spine rigid against the headboard. "It's nothing personal. My life is a living Hell right now." And it was—a Hell constructed of secrets and lies, of rooms that locked from the outside, of "family" that wasn't family at all.
"Ya think ya know what Hell is like," Erik's voice dropped to a growl, "but I promise—screw me over and you'll know for sure. I swear you'll wish ya never got that work fronted." The threat hung in the air between them, crackling with static and malice. "Ya gonna regret ya played with my emotions, Madison."
A tear escaped, tracing a warm path down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, angry at herself for showing weakness, even when no one could see. The doorknob rattled - Oh God, they're coming.
Madison shoved the phone under her covers in a panic, the motion so violent she almost tore her sheets. The door burst open, and Hope stood in the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the hallway light.
"Let's go," Hope said, her voice tight with urgency.
Madison stared at her, uncomprehending. "Go?"
"What's wrong with you? Let's go! Now! Go. Go. Go." Hope's words tumbled out in a frantic jumble as she seized Madison's arm, pulling her toward the dresser.
Hope yanked open the top drawer. "Grab essentials!"
"Um, okay, but—" Madison reached toward the drawer, her mind racing. Where did this come from? What did she need? What could she leave behind? What would happen if they were caught?
Before her fingers could close around anything, Hope slammed the drawer shut, nearly catching Madison's fingertips. "Don't take anything, let's just get you out of here."
Madison wrenched her arm free, stumbling backward. "Wait, but... they aren't going to let me leave." The words tasted like ash in her mouth. She'd tried to leave before. They always found her.
"Your mom and Grace just left. They went to get some supplies, and we need to get you out of here before they come back!" Hope's eyes were wide, pupils dilated with fear or adrenaline or both.
"Supplies for what!?" Madison's question hung in the air, unanswered.
Hope grabbed her again, this time with both hands, fingers digging into Madison's shoulders. "No time to explain!"
Hope pushed her into the hallway, the motion so swift that Madison barely had time to register her bedroom—perhaps for the last time.
The shredded collage, flayed open and bleeding tape and paper.
The window, gagged beneath its plywood mask.
The crucifix above the door, listing to one side like it was trying to pull itself free.The crucifix hanging crookedly above the door.
They rushed down the hallway, Hope's breath coming in short gasps. "They'll never let me live this down. I swore to God I wouldn't let you leave."
Madison's heart contracted with a mixture of gratitude and guilt. "Thank you. I'll owe you for the rest of my life."
Hope’s gaze stayed fixed ahead, cold and unyielding as they entered the living room. The air felt heavy, stale with the weight of prayers and secrets. Hope made a beeline for the front door. "You won't have to owe me for long. Grace is going to kill me for this."
The words hung in the air, and Madison couldn't tell if Hope meant them figuratively or literally. In this house, with these people, either was possible.
The house loomed like a tombstone against the night sky. Moonlight spilled across the yard, casting long shadows that seemed to reach for Madison and Hope as they burst through the front door and staggered onto the porch.
"I'm probably gonna burn in Hell for lying," Hope said, rushing down the stairs toward the driveway. "But if it means helping you escape from—"
She stopped mid-sentence, turning back when she realized Madison wasn't following. Madison stood frozen on the porch, the realization dawning on her face like a bruise spreading beneath her skin.
"Where's your car?" Madison asked, her voice small against the crickets' chorus.
Hope's shoulders slumped. "Grace drove me here."
Madison's laugh was brittle, hysterical. "Someone tried to steal Faith's car, and now she always has her keys with her! How did you expect us to get out of here!?"
Hope bounded back up the stairs, her sneakers slapping against the worn wood. She stood beside Madison, both of them now marooned on the porch like shipwreck survivors watching their rescue boat drift away.
"I didn't think that far ahead!" Hope's voice cracked. "They left, and I acted impulsively."
Madison's jaw tightened. "Impulsively? Like asking a child for advice on how to run away? Hope, you're the adult here. You're supposed to be the responsible one."
The words hung between them, sharp as glass. Madison turned away, her fingernails digging half-moons into her palms. "Well, I'm not going back in there."
Hope stared past the yard, into the darkness where the driveway disappeared into a tunnel of pines. "You might not have a choice."
Madison turned, following Hope's gaze. Two pinpricks of light appeared in the distance, growing larger with each passing second. Headlights, racing toward them.
Madison backed away from Hope, her spine pressed against the porch railing. "Everyone has a choice."
Panic rose in Madison's throat, threatening to choke her. Her eyes darted around frantically, scanning the yard for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Then she saw it.
"There. The tree. We'll hide behind the trunk.”
Before Hope could protest, Madison wrenched herself free, and then bounded down the porch stairs. She bolted across the yard, her feet barely touching the ground. The tall oak tree rose like a cathedral at the edge of the property, its massive trunk etched with the weight of decades.
"Come back, Madison, we'll find—" Hope's voice trailed off as she looked toward the approaching vehicle.
Dust billowed in the air, swirling in the headlights' beams. As it settled, Faith's car emerged from the darkness, barreling down the road like an angry bull.
A distant metallic rattle—the sound of Faith's car, the one with the loose muffler that Madison had grown to dread. The sound that meant Faith and Grace are almost home. The sound that meant she was trapped.
Hope sprinted after Madison, both of them running as if their lives depended on it. Maybe they did. Madison couldn't be sure anymore what these people were capable of.
Faith's car turned onto the driveway, beginning the long approach to the house.
Madison reached the tree first, her lungs burning as she pressed herself against the rough bark. She peered around the trunk, motioning frantically for Hope to hurry.
"Come on, Hope!"
Hope pushed herself harder, her face contorted with effort. She reached Madison seconds later, both of them disappearing behind the massive trunk, their chests heaving as they fought to catch their breath.
The metallic rattle grew louder. Madison risked another glance. Faith's car sped toward the house, then suddenly veered off the driveway. It turned, headlights swinging wildly, redirecting its course.
Toward the tree.
Toward them.
"They know we're here!" Madison's whisper turned into a panicked yelp.
Without hesitation, she darted out from behind the tree and sprinted back toward the house. Better the devil you know, her mother used to say, before she became the devil Madison knew all too well.
"Maddy! I can handle this." Hope's voice followed her through the darkness.
Madison didn't slow down. The house loomed before her, both refuge and prison. Behind her, she could hear Hope's footsteps and the engine's roar, a predator-prey symphony that made her heart hammer against her ribs.
"Madison, stop!"
Hope's voice was closer now, but so was the car. Madison risked a glance over her shoulder. Hope had stopped running, standing her ground as Faith's car bore down on her.
"No one's going to hurt you," Hope called, though Madison wasn't sure if she was speaking to her or to whoever was behind the wheel.
Hope turned to face the oncoming vehicle. At the last possible second, she lunged to the side, but not quickly enough. The car clipped her hip, sending her body cartwheeling through the air like a rag doll before crashing onto the hard-packed dirt.
Madison screamed, a sound torn from deep within her chest. Faith's car didn't stop. It accelerated, bearing down on her as she sprinted toward the house.
She chanced one more glance over her shoulder, and what she saw made her blood freeze. Grace was behind the wheel, her face a mask of determination. Faith sat in the passenger seat, white-knuckled hands gripping the dashboard as the car bounced over the uneven ground.
The bumper was so close that Madison could feel the heat of the engine on the backs of her legs. Inches away. Closing in. She pushed herself harder, legs burning, lungs screaming for air.
With one final desperate burst of speed, she bounded up the porch stairs, the car screeching to a halt just short of the bottom step. She didn't stop to see what happened next.
Madison burst through the front door, the car's headlights flooding the living room with harsh light that turned familiar objects into strange, threatening shapes. She stood frozen in the doorway, silhouetted against the glare, a dark figure cut out of light.
For one terrifying moment, she thought about turning around, about going back outside to face whatever punishment they had planned. But she couldn't make herself move. Her legs, so quick to carry her to safety moments ago, now refused to obey.
Behind her, car doors slammed. Voices called her name—not in concern, but in command. Madison stepped further into the house, her shadow stretching long and thin across the hardwood floor.
She was back where she started. Back in her prison. But something had changed. She'd made a choice, even if it hadn't led her to freedom. She'd made a choice, and she could make another.
And another.
Until one day, one of those choices would set her free.
Chapter 27