1

SUMMER

Saturday, July 24th (Present)

Looking out my bedroom window, I’m faced with yet another dull English summer day. The heavy clouds made it look way too dark for July, but not even that was going to faze me. Tonight I was going to celebrate the end of the school year at a gig by a school band, and I was determined to have some fun.

“Hey, what time are you leaving?” Lewis asked. He let himself into my room—as usual—and sat down on the bed. We’d been together over a year, so we were more than comfortable with each other now. Sometimes I missed the time when Lewis didn’t tell me he was getting off the phone because he needed to pee or when he would pick up his dirty underwear before I came over. My mum was right: the longer you were with a man, the grosser they became. Still, I wouldn’t change him. You’re supposed to accept someone you love for who they were, so I accepted his messiness.

I shrugged and studied my reflection in the mirror. My hair was boring, flat, and never looked right. I couldn’t even pull off the messy look. No matter how “easy” the steps to the perfect bedhead look were in a magazine, I never could make it work. “In a minute. Do I look okay?”

Apparently the most attractive thing was confidence. But what did you do if you weren’t confident? That couldn’t be faked without it being obvious. I wasn’t model pretty or Playboy sexy, and I didn’t have bucket loads of confidence. Basically, I was screwed and downright lucky that Lewis was so blind.

He smirked and rolled his eyes—his here she goes again look. It used to annoy him at first, but now I think it just amused him. “You know I can see you in the mirror, right?” I said, glaring at his reflection.

“You look beautiful. As always,” he replied. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off tonight?”

I sighed. This again. The club where the gig was being held was barely a two-minute walk from my house. It was a walk that I had done so many times I could make it there blindfolded. “No thanks. I’m fine walking. What time are you leaving?”

He shrugged and pursed his lips. I loved it when he did that. “Whenever your lazy brother’s ready. Are you sure? We can give you a lift on the way.”

“It’s fine, seriously! I’m leaving right now, and if you’re waiting for Henry to get ready, you’ll be a while.”

“You shouldn’t walk alone at night, Sum.”

I sighed again, deeper, and slammed my brush down on the wooden dresser. “Lewis, I’ve been walking around on my own for years. I used to walk to and from school every day, and I’ll do it again next year. These”—I slapped my legs for emphasis—“work perfectly fine.”

His eyes trailed down to my legs and lit up. “Hmm, I can see that.”

Grinning, I pushed him back on the bed and sat on his lap. “Can you take your overprotective boyfriend hat off and kiss me?” Lewis chuckled, and his blue eyes lit up as his lips met mine.

Even after eighteen months, his kisses still made my heart skip a beat. I started liking him when I was eleven. He would come home with Henry after football practice every week while his mum was at work. I thought it was just a silly crush—like the one I also had on Usher at the time—and didn’t think anything of it. But when he still gave me butterflies four years later, I knew it had to be something more.

“You two are disgusting.” I jumped back at the sound of my brother’s deep, annoying voice.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Henry.”

“Shut up, Summer,” he shot back.

“It’s impossible to believe you’re eighteen.”

“Shut up, Summer,” he repeated.

“Whatever. I’m going,” I said and pushed myself off Lewis. I gave him one last kiss and slipped out of the room.

“Idiot,” Henry muttered. Immature idiot, I thought. We did get along—sometimes—and he was the best big brother I could ask for, but he drove me crazy. I had no doubt we would bicker until we died.

“Summer, are you now leaving?” Mum called from the kitchen. No, I’m walking out the door for fun!

“Yeah.”

“Sweetheart, be careful,” Dad said.

“I will. Bye,” I replied quickly and walked out the door before they could stop me. They still treated me like I was in elementary school and couldn’t go out alone. Our town was probably—actually definitely—the most boring place on earth; nothing even remotely interesting ever happened.

The most excitement we’d ever had was two years ago when old Mrs. Hellmann—yeah, like the mayonnaise—went missing and was found hours later wondering the sheep field looking for her late husband. The whole town was looking for her. I still remember the buzz of something finally happening.

I started walking along the familiar pavement toward the pathway next to the graveyard. That was the only part of walking alone that I didn’t like. Graveyards. They were scary—fact—and especially when you were alone. I subtly glanced around while I walked along the footpath. I felt uneasy, even after passing the graveyard. We had moved to this neighborhood when I was five, and I had always felt safe here. My childhood had been spent playing out in the street with my friends, and as I got older, I hung out at the park or club. I knew this town and the people in it like the back of my hand, but the graveyard always creeped me out.

I pulled my jacket tightly around myself and picked up the pace. The club was almost in view, just around the next corner. I glanced over my shoulder again and gasped as a dark figure stepped out from behind a hedge.

“Sorry, dear, did I frighten you?”

I sighed in relief as old Harold Dane came into view. I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

He lifted up a heavy-looking black bag and threw it into his garbage can with a deep grunt as if he had been lifting weights. His skinny frame was covered in wrinkled, saggy skin. He looked like he’d snap in half if he bent over. “Are you going to the disco?”

I grinned at choice of word. Disco. Ha! That’s probably what they called it back when he was a teenager. “Yep. I’m meeting my friends there.”

“Well, you have a good night, but watch your drinks. You don’t know what the boys today slip in pretty young girls’ drinks,” he warned, shaking his head as if it were the scandal of the year and every teenage boy was out to date-rape everyone.

Laughing, I raised my hand and waved. “I’ll be careful. Night.”

“Good night, dear.”

The club was visible from Harold’s house, and I relaxed as I approached the entrance. My family and Lewis had made me jumpy; it was ridiculous. As I got to the door, my friend Kerri grabbed my arm from beside me, making me jump. She laughed, her eyes alight with humor. Hilarious. “Sorry. Have you seen Rachel?”

My heart slowed to its normal pace as my brain processed my friend’s face and not the face of the Scream dude or Freddy Kruger. “Not seen anyone. Just got here.”

“Damn it. She ran off after another argument with the idiot, and her phone’s turned off!” Ah, the idiot. Rachel had a very on/off relationship with her boyfriend, Jack. I never understood that—if you pissed each other off 90 percent of the time, then just call it a day. “We should find her.”

Why? I had hoped for a fun evening with friends, not chasing after a girl who should have just dumped her loser boyfriend’s arse already. Sighing, I resigned myself to the inevitable. “Okay, which direction did she go?”

Kerri gave me a flat look. “If I knew that, Summer…”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled her hand, and we started walking back toward the road. “Fine. I’ll go left, you go right.” Kerri saluted and marched off to the right. I laughed at her and then went my way. Rachel had better be close.

I walked across the middle of the playing field near the club, heading toward the gate at the back to see if she had taken the shortcut through to her house. The air turned colder, and I rubbed my arms. Kerri said Rachel’s phone was off, but I tried calling it anyway and, of course, it went straight to voice mail. If she didn’t want to speak to anyone, then why were we trying to find her?

I left an awkward message on her phone—I hated leaving messages—and walked through the gate toward the skate ramp at the back of the park. The clouds shifted, creating a gray swirling effect across the sky. It looked moody, creepy but pretty at the same times. A light, cool breeze whipped across my face, making my light honey-blond hair—according to hairdresser wannabe Rachel—blow in my face and a shudder ripple through my body.

“Lily?” a deep voice called from behind me. I didn’t recognize it. I spun around and backed up as a tall, dark-haired man stepped into view. My stomach dropped. Had he been hiding between the trees? What the heck? He was close enough that I could see the satisfied grin on his face and neat hair not affected by the wind. How much hairspray must he have used? If I weren’t freaked out, I would have asked what product he used because my hair never played fair. “Lily,” he repeated.

“No. Sorry.” Gulping, I took another step back and scanned the area in the vain hope that one of my friends would be nearby. “I’m not Lily,” I mumbled, straightening my back and looking up at him in an attempt to appear confident. He towered over me, glaring down at me with creepily dark eyes.

He shook his head. “No. You are Lily.”

“I’m Summer. You have the wrong person.” You utter freak!

I could hear my pulse crashing in my ears. How stupid to give him my real name. He continued to stare at me, smiling. It made me feel sick. Why did he think I was Lily? I hoped that I just looked like his daughter or something and he wasn’t some crazy weirdo.

I took another step back and searched around to find a place that I could escape if needed. The park was big, and I was still near the back, just in front of the trees. There was no way anyone would be able to see me from here. That thought alone made my eyes sting. Why did I come here alone? I wanted to scream at myself for being so stupid.

“You are Lily,” he repeated.

Before I could blink, he threw his arms forward and grabbed me. I tried to shout, but he clasped his hand over my mouth, muffling my screams. What the heck was he doing? I thrashed my arms, frantically trying to get out of his grip. Oh God, he’s going to kill me. Tears poured from my eyes. My heart raced. My fingertips tingled and my stomach knotted with fear. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me.

The Lily man pulled me toward him with such force the air left my lungs in a rush as I slammed against him. He spun me around so my back pressed tightly against his chest. And with his hand sealed over my mouth and nose, I struggled to breathe. I couldn’t move, and I didn’t know if it was because he had such a strong iron grip or if I was too stunned. He had me, and he could do whatever he wanted because I couldn’t bloody move a muscle.

He pushed me through the gate at the back of the park and then through the field. I tried again to scream for help, but against his palm, I hardly made a sound. He whispered “Lily” over and over while he dragged me toward a white van. I watched trees pass me by and birds fly over us, landing on branches. Everything carried on as normal. Oh God, I needed to get away now. I dug my feet into the ground and screamed so hard that my throat instantly started to hurt. It was useless, though; no one was around to hear me but the birds.

He tugged his arm back, pressing it into my stomach. I cried out in pain. As soon as he let go to open the van’s back door, I screamed for help. “Shut up!” he shouted as he pushed me inside the vehicle. My head smashed into the side of the van while I struggled.

“Please let me go. Please. I’m not Lily. Please,” I begged and gripped the side of my throbbing head. My whole body shook with fear and I gasped for breath, desperate to get some air into my lungs.

His nostrils flared and his eyes widened. “You’re bleeding. Clean it. Now,” he growled in a menacing tone that made me tremble. He handed me a tissue and sanitizer. What? I was so scared and confused that I could barely move. “Clean it now!” he screamed, making me flinch.

I lifted the tissue to my head and wiped away the blood. My hands shook so much that I almost spilled the sanitizer as I squirted it onto my palm and rubbed it into the cut. The stinging caused me to clench my jaw. I winced at how much it hurt. The man watched me carefully, breathing heavily and appearing repulsed. What the heck was wrong with him?

My vision quickly blurred as fresh tears spilled over and rolled down my cheeks. He grabbed the tissue, careful not to touch the bloody part, threw it into a plastic bag, and shoved it into his pocket. He then cleaned his hands with the sanitizer. I watched in horror. My heart slamming against my chest. Was this really happening?

“Give me your phone, Lily,” he said calmly, holding his hand out. I cried harder as I reached into my own pocket, took my phone out, and handed it to him. “Good girl.” He slammed the back door shut, immersing me in darkness. No! I screamed and banged against the door. A moment later, I heard the unmistakable roar of the engine and felt a rocking sensation as the van began moving. He was driving. Driving me somewhere. To do what?

“Please help me!” I shouted and repeatedly slammed my fists down on the back door. It was useless; there was no way the door was going to move, but I had to try. Every time he turned a corner, I fell against the side of the van, but I got up and continued shouting for help and banging on the door. My breathing turned to panting, and I gasped for breath. I didn’t feel as if air was getting into my lungs.

He continued driving, and with every passing second, I started to give up hope. I was going to die. The van finally came to a stop and my body froze. This is it. This is where he kills me.

After a few painful seconds of waiting and listening to his footsteps crunch on the ground outside, the door flew open and I whimpered. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t find my voice. He smiled and reached in, grabbing my arm before I had chance to jump back. We were in the middle of nowhere. There was a large redbrick house sitting at the end of a stone path; tall bushes and trees surrounded the house. Who could ever find me here? There was nothing around I recognized; it looked the same as every other country lane surrounding my town. I had no idea where he’d brought me.

I tried to resist as he pulled me from the van and pushed me toward the house, but he was too strong. I screamed loudly in one final attempt to get help, and this time he allowed it, which was so much scarier—it meant that he didn’t think anyone would be able to hear me.

I repeated over and over in my head I love you, Lewis as I prepared to die—and for whatever he had planned for me before that. My heart sunk. What did he plan? He pushed me through the front door and along a long hallway. I tried to take it all in, the color of the walls, where the doors were, in the hope I could escape, but the shock of what was happening stopped anything sticking. From what I could tell the hall was bright, and it was warm, not what I expected at all. My blood turned to ice in my veins, and the pinch in my arms as his fingers dug into my skin stung. I looked down and saw his fingertips sink into my arm, making four craters in my skin.

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?”

My heart smashed against my chest painfully. I didn’t want to give up hope, but this girl had been here for three years.

I gulped and asked the question I was most afraid of. “What does he want from us?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think he wants a family. The perfect family. He chooses girls that he thinks are perfect, like flowers.” I blinked, reeling from her latest bomb. Flowers? Was that the reason he renamed everyone after flowers? My mouth hung open. This guy was bloody insane.

She went on, “He likes things that are pure, and he can’t stand mess or germs.” That’s why he was so disgusted when my head was bleeding and why all I could smell down here was the strong, almost eye-watering scent of lemon.

“We have to make sure the house is clean and tidy at all times, and we have to shower twice a day. He comes down to have breakfast with us at eight o’clock sharp, and we need to be showered and have our hair and makeup done, ready for him.”

I laughed an entirely humorless laugh, convinced that someone was messing with me. I had to be on a TV reality show or something. “What the fuck is wrong with him?” I shouted, jumping up off the sofa. My legs felt like jelly and Rose easily pulled me back down.

“Don’t ever swear in front of him, Lily. Please listen to what I’m telling you,” she said. “He brings us fresh flowers when the old ones die…” She stopped, trailing off, and flinched at something—a bad memory? Staring me in the eye, she took a deep breath. “When he falls in love with you, he will want to make love to you.”

My heart stopped. I shook my head fiercely as my eyes started stinging. I jumped up again; this time I found the strength from somewhere to rip myself from her quick, tight grip. There was no way he was coming anywhere near me. I would rather die. “No! Oh God, I have to get out of here.” I turned and sprinted back up the stairs.

“Lily, Lily. Shh, stop it,” Rose said frantically and grabbed my arm. She must have been right behind me. “You need to calm down. We don’t think he can hear, but we’re not positive, so you have to stop.”

I heaved and slumped to the floor, sobbing. Rose was half holding me so I didn’t hit hard, not that I cared anyway. “I need…I need to go home,” I muttered. My body shook with fear. I didn’t want him anywhere near me. I had only ever been with Lewis and I wanted to keep it that way. The thought of anyone else touching me made my skin crawl—especially him touching me.

“I promise you will be okay, but you need to do what we tell you. We’re trying to help you, Lily,” Rose said. It took me a few minutes, but I managed to calm myself down a little. Rose was right; I did need to do what she said, just until I could figure out how to get out of here. I had to be calm and think straight, form a plan. There must be a way out. Nothing was impossible. I had to play along until I thought of something—it was survival.

I pushed myself up and let her guide me back to the sofa. Rose wiped the tears from my face with a tissue. My eyes fluttered open when she was done, and I saw they were all staring at me, wondering if I was going to freak out again or behave, like them.

“Are you okay, Lily?” the other girl, Violet, asked. It was the first time she had spoken to me, and it was the dumbest question ever. I shook my head. I was definitely not okay. “I’m sorry.” She squeezed my hand.

The cellar door swung open, making me jump. My heart rate spiked and my body trembled. He very slowly walked down the stairs, like he was dragging it out for dramatic effect, and stepped under the light. I was able to see him properly for the first time. I gulped as my heart raced a million miles an hour. He had very short brown hair that was immaculately styled; not one single strand of hair was out of place. I was surprised at his strength because although he was tall, he didn’t look that muscular. He wore nice jeans and a knitted navy sweater over a white shirt—too preppy and normal for what he was doing to us.

Rose took hold of my other hand and squeezed it. “Hello, Flowers. How is Lily settling in?” he asked, smiling at me warmly, as if he hadn’t just kidnapped me. What the heck is wrong with him? How could he just pretend like that?

Violet stood up and walked toward him. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “This is wrong, Clover, and you know it. You’ve gone too far this time. She’s so young. You need to let her go,” she said. Her voice was firm, but her trembling hands gave her away. With everything Rose had told me, I was positive they were terrified of him. I respected her so much for speaking up; the other two clearly weren’t going to.

The carefree smile dropped from his face, and I stilled. My pulse quickened. His face, now hard and tense, made him look like a completely different person. He looked murderously angry. Reaching out so quickly I almost didn’t see it, he grabbed her arm roughly.

Violet winced, her eyes tensed in pain as she looked down at the arm he had in a death grip. “Clover, please don’t,” she whispered. I didn’t want to look at what he was doing or what he was going to do, but my eyes were glued to them, heart pounding, fingertips tingling.

“You selfish bastard,” he growled and slapped her across the cheek. Bastard? He said the word, but it was so weird coming out of his mouth; it was as if it was someone else’s words. It didn’t fit. The slap echoed through the room and Violet hissed through her teeth, gripping the side of her face. But she didn’t make a sound. “How dare you speak to me like that after everything I’ve done for you? We are a family. You need to remember that.”

My blood ran cold. He wanted me to be a part of his family. He was going to keep me here. I already had a family—parents I’d skipped out on before saying good-bye properly, a brother I’d argued with before leaving.

Violet stood straight and something inside her changed. Her eyes darkened, her nose turned up, and she spat straight into his face. “We’re not a family, you psycho,” she shouted, wrenching her arm from his grip.

The noise that broke through his clenched teeth was animalistic and throaty; no part of it sounded human. I should have ran but fear kept me planted to the floor. Violet fell down, crying in pain from one hard shove. “Get it off me,” he bellowed and flailed his arms around frantically. My eyes widened in horror. It’s just a bad, bad dream that you need to wake up from right now, I told myself. But I didn’t wake up.

Poppy jumped up, grabbing the tissues and a bottle of sanitizer from the table beside me. I’d noticed a few other bottles around too—on the bookshelf, kitchen counter, and TV stand. She wiped his face and handed him the sanitizer, and he squirted it on his trembling hand and then rubbed it on his face. Rose and Poppy exchanged a look. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew whatever it was, I wouldn’t like it.

He turned to face Violet, and she slowly backed up until she was pressed up against the wall again. I gulped. What now? Rose and Poppy moved to either side of me in a protective manner. Oh God. I gulped and clenched my trembling hands. This isn’t real.

Cocking his head to the side, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. I froze. No! He was going to kill her. He was going to stab her right in front of us. Why weren’t they doing anything? No one was doing anything. Was this what that look was about? Did they know this was going to happen?

“What?” I whispered, trying and failing to look away. Why couldn’t you look away from something bad? It’s like we’re all programed to punish ourselves.

“No, please. Clover, I’m sorry, please don’t,” she begged, holding her hands out in front of her and crouching slightly in surrender. He shook his head. Deep, heavy breaths burst from his lungs. I could only see the side of his face from where I was standing, but what I saw of it was cold and detached. “You’re right. I am so sorry. We are a family. You’re my family, and I forgot that for a second. Please forgive what I said. I should have never doubted you.” She shook her head. “You’ve always done what’s best for us. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all probably be dead now. You saved us. All you do is take care of us, and I treated you badly just then. I’m so very sorry.”

He tilted his head and his eyes softened. He stood taller with pride. What just happened? Was that how it worked, stroke his overinflated, screwed-up ego and you had a chance?

I held my breath as time stretched in front of us. The only noise was his and Violet’s heavy breathing. Rose and Poppy stood wide-eyed as they waited for his decision. The atmosphere was heavy and tense.

Rose was the first one to relax her shoulders as he lowered the knife in his hand. “I forgive you, Violet,” he said and turned to walk away without another word. I watched on, eyes bulging and frozen from the shock and fear. My lips were dry, and my nose stung from the citrus smell of lemon cleaning products.

Rose, Poppy, and Violet silently sat on the sofa and held hands while I stood stock still, like an idiot waiting to wake up.

3

SUMMER

Saturday, 24th July (Present)

“What was that?” I whispered, staring at the closed, heavy cellar door. The thing was thick, like it’d been reinforced or something.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have questioned him,” Violet said from behind me.

I recoiled in horror and turned to look at her. “Your fault? What you said was right. Was he seriously going to stab you then?” I wanted at least one of them to say no. Their silence said everything.

“Come and sit, Lily. We’ll answer whatever you want to know,” Rose said, stroking Violet’s shaking hand. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know anything.

Gulping my fear down, I sat on the end of the sofa. We just about fit on it all together; he must have bought it especially for four people. I was surprised that it was so comfortable. Everything down here, minus the smell, was comfortable and homey. The soft light-blue of the walls and light wooden surfaces and table made it look inviting. If the cleanly smell weren’t so potent, it would be a gorgeous room. It was completely out of place in this psychopath’s house.

“What do you want to know?” Rose asked. Her blue eyes were as calming as the color of the walls.

“He was going to stab her, wasn’t he?” She nodded once in reply. I took a deep, ragged breath. “Because she tried to stand up for me?” I was aware that I was talking to Rose as if we were alone, but from the second I got down here and she offered me her hand, she’d been the one taking the lead. She was like the big sister.

“That’s correct.”

I licked my dry lips. “Has he done that before?”

Her eyes darkened, losing that friendliness. “Yes, he has.”

“You’ve seen that?”

“Yes.”

“They died,” I said just above a whisper.

She nodded, her body tensing. “He’s killed, yes.”

I looked behind her and saw Violet shrinking into Poppy. He had killed people and no one knew a damn thing. How was that even possible? I shook my head in disbelief. “I don’t get it. How does he get away with it?” Surely people would notice someone missing? I’d never seen Rose, Poppy, or Violet on the news or stuck to lampposts.

“The girls he chooses are usually living on the streets. If no one notices they’re missing, then no one will suspect anything is wrong,” Rose said and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “I ran away from my family when I was eighteen. We had never been close and our relationship was…strained. My father”—her eyes darkened and her posture shrank—“liked to drink and didn’t like us.” It looked as though sadness and terror suddenly consumed her. “Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, I left home. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’d been living on the streets and in hostels for ten months when Clover found me. I’ve been here almost three years now.” She shrugged like being here was nothing.

I was stunned. How did she do it? I would have gone bloody crazy after three weeks. My chest tightened so much I felt like I was gonna collapse. This wasn’t temporary.

“Please don’t cry, Lily. It’s really not that bad down here,” Rose said.

I stared at her, trying to work out if she had actually lost it. She sounded crazy. Not that bad? He’d kidnapped us. He was keeping us locked up in his cellar. He would rape us when he “fell in love” with us, and if we dared to fight back, he would kill us. How was that really not that bad?

“Please don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re thinking, but if you do what he says, everything will be fine. He’ll treat you well.”

She must be crazy. “Apart from raping me, you mean?”

“Don’t call it rape in front of him,” she warned.

I looked away from her. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. How could she think this was okay? It was beyond screwed up, but she was still defending him. She couldn’t have always been like that. They must have been a time where she knew it was crazy and hated him as much as I do. How long did it take him to brainwash her?

Poppy, Violet, and Rose stood up at the same time—in perfect synchronization—and walked to the kitchen area. They spoke in hushed voices. I could barely hear their whispers, but from the way that Violet looked over, it was obvious they were talking about me. I didn’t even care. I didn’t even try listening. They could say whatever they wanted, but I was never going to think it was okay to be down here or that Clover wasn’t a psychotic arsehole.

Someone would find me soon. I wasn’t on the streets like they were. I had a family and friends—people that would know I was missing. Soon enough, the police would be called and they would start searching. Who would be the one to realize first? My parents when I didn’t return home? Or Lewis when I didn’t answer his calls or reply to his texts? Would he even try to contact me any more tonight? If we were out separately with our friends, we wouldn’t usually text each other until we were home, or if we did, it would only be once or twice.

Squeezing my eyes together, I tried to push the image of Lewis’s face out of my head. I couldn’t even think about my parents. Gulping down the rising lump in my throat, I pressed my fingernails into the palm of my hand. Don’t cry.

“How long have you been here, Poppy?” I asked.

She half smiled and walked the few steps from the kitchen table back to the sofa. Sitting down beside me, she squeezed my clenched fist. “Just over a year. Mine is a similar story to Rose’s. I was living on the streets when he found me, and I was eighteen too.” An adult. Was that why Violet got so angry? Not that it mattered how old any of us were. It’s not like she could know my age. How young do I look? Did he even care?

“Why me then? It doesn’t make sense. I’m not an adult like you.” If he was even kidnapping adults, maybe it didn’t matter as long as he got his family. I shook my head, blood boiling in anger. “My family will look for me. They’ll find us.”

“Maybe,” Poppy said and gave me another weak smile. Whatever, she didn’t have to believe me. I knew they wouldn’t just give up. I was not spending years down here like they had.

A creaking at the cellar door made my heart jump into my throat and my stomach turn. He was coming back. I listened hard but couldn’t hear anything until the slight squeak of the door handle. Why didn’t I hear him outside? The air left my lungs. I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. Soundproof. We couldn’t hear anything out there, and more important to him, no one could hear us in here.

Rose stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs to meet him. How could she stand to be anywhere near him? The sight of his adult-preppy appearance and smug face made me want to throw up.

“I’m ordering pizza for dinner,” he announced. “I think we all deserve a treat tonight, and we need to properly welcome Lily to the family.” My stomach turned again. He is actually insane and needs locking up. He turned to me and smiled. “Lily, we usually get two cheese, a pepperoni, and a barbecue chicken. Is that okay with you? I can order something else if you’d like?”

I stared at him in shock. Was he seriously discussing dinner right after he kidnapped me and pulled a knife on someone else? He was sick, evil, and twisted. I didn’t want to talk to him, ever. Poppy nudged me discreetly, prompting me to answer him. Taking a shaky breath, I gave in and replied, “T-that’s fine.”

He smiled, flashing his too-perfect white teeth. Everything about him looked flawless—his skin, his hair, his perfectly ironed clothes, his damn teeth. The phrase “wolf in sheep’s clothing” was made for him. “That’s perfect then. I knew you would fit in well. I’ll go and order now. It won’t be long.”

Without another word, he slowly walked back up the stairs.

The cellar door had been unlocked the whole time he was down here.

I watched him close the door and heard him lock it, angry with myself, as I’d missed the chance to escape. “W-what?” I mumbled. My eyes stung where I had been too stunned to blink. This was all a dream. It had to be. Things like this didn’t happen to me. They didn’t even happen to anyone I knew.

Poppy smiled. “It’s going to be okay.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The only way this could ever be okay would be if I got out before he laid a finger on me.

***

I woke up to someone lightly shaking my arm in an annoying way that I was so used to. I smiled and looked over, expecting Lewis to be grinning back at me. My heart sunk when I saw Rose’s long, dark brown hair and blue eyes. Oh God, how could I have fallen asleep?

Gasping in shock and at the realization that all this wasn’t just a horrible dream, I shoved myself back against the sofa, away from her.

“I’m sorry I scared you, Lily. Clover’s here with the pizza,” she whispered. “Come, sit with us.” I stopped breathing, my lungs felt like they had an elephant sitting on them. Could I sit with him and eat? Did I even have a choice? Rose put her hand on my shoulder and nudged me forward. “Here, you sit next to Poppy.” Did he even dictate where we sat?

I tensed as I sat down at the table. He was opposite me and sat there as if nothing was wrong at all. To him this was normal. He never mentioned kidnapping me. It was like to him, I had always been here. Like we really all were family. He really believed we were a family. How bloody delusional was he?

The table was covered in a bright white cotton tablecloth and a fresh vase of pink lilies. The pizza had been removed from the boxes and piled on two large serving dishes on either side of the flowers that I assumed were all for me and my new name.

“Please, help yourself,” he said, gesturing to the food with his hand. I’d rather die. He made it sound as if I had a choice, but the steely look in his cold eyes—and the flash of the knife he pulled from his pocket still fresh on my mind—told me I didn’t. He wanted us to eat as a family, and I knew what he was capable of if I refused.

I reached out and took the slice that was closest to me, quickly retracting my hand so I was as far away from him as possible. He gave me a warm smile, his eyes glowing now. I dropped my eyes to my plastic plate and nibbled at the edge of the pizza.

While Rose, Violet, and Poppy discussed what we would be cooking for dinner the rest of the week, I forced down a few bites in silence. The food felt alien in my stomach. I didn’t mind cheese pizza, but this tasted plastic, and I gagged every time I swallowed the mushed-up food.

Rose held her hand up, gaining my attention even though she wasn’t looking at me. “Oh, Clover, before I forget, we’re getting low on books again.”

He nodded his head once. “I’ll get you some more.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and sipped her water. I wanted to scream at her. How could she not see how messed up this was? She was so at ease with him, her body turned toward him slightly while Poppy and Violet faced straight ahead, and I was just a statue trying not to be noticed.

“Thank you for your company tonight, girls. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said and rose from his seat. “Have a good evening.”

My body felt like it had been outside in the snow all day. I was stiff and slow to move. He leaned over and placed a kiss on Rose’s cheek and then Poppy’s and Violet’s. I started breathing faster, gripped with fear. Not me. Please not me. I could hear my pulse smashing in my ears, and bile rose in my throat. He bowed his head toward me and turned and walked away.

I let out a big sigh of relief. I couldn’t let him touch me. He stopped on the top of the stairs and unlocked the door. I didn’t take my eyes off him as he left the room and locked the door from the other side. I wanted to make sure he really had left.

Rose and Poppy got up and gathered the plates together to clean up. There was only one of him and four of us. We could overpower him if we worked together. Had they tried that before, or were they always too scared? I wasn’t even sure if Rose would want to.

“Come and watch a movie with us,” Poppy said. I looked up at her and realized they had cleaned everything away and Rose was now sitting in front of the TV.

Becausehecouldkillyouwithoutquestionorhesitation.

When my tears had dried up and my head felt like it was going to explode, I forced myself to get out of the shower and get dressed. Crying wasn’t going to get me anywhere, and I didn’t want any more attention than I was already getting. I wrapped the fluffy towel tightly around myself—it smelled fresh, like it was just out of the washer—and opened the bathroom cabinet. I noticed straight away that there were no razors—in their place were two pink boxes of waxing strips. Nothing in the cabinet could cause any damage—to anyone.

Closing the door, I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror screwed to the front of the cabinet. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy. I looked like I had been in a scrap with a cage fighter. I spun around, not wanting to see how awful I looked any longer, and pulled on someone else’s pajamas.

“Are you ready for bed?” Rose asked as I walked back into the room. I nodded in response and wrapped my arms around myself. “Okay, I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.” She led me into the room beside the bathroom. The walls were painted light pink and the furniture was all white. There were four single beds with pink quilt covers and pillows. On the bedside tables were identical light pink lamps. It all matched too well, like it was decorated for quadruplets. “This one is yours,” she said and pointed to the bed against the wall on the left. Mine. I had a bed. This was supposed to be home.

I was too exhausted to argue, so I numbly walked over to the bed and climbed under the cover. Closing my eyes, I prayed sleep would come soon and take me away from here, and that when I woke up I would be in my own room.

CONTENTS

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