Page 68 of Horror and Chill

Evander is the one who breaks it. His voice is quiet, almost reverent. “That is the truth.”

Corwin leans forward, sharp again. “Got more of those, Little Horror? I’d bleed a dozen truths out of you just to hear how you sound when they burn.”

“Back off,” Garron growls.

“No.” I sit up, wrists raw, hair wild around my face, and glare at each one in turn. “You want truths? Then tell me yours. Have you been stalking me since I was a child? Since I left there? How long has this been going on?”

For the first time, none of them rushes to answer. Corwin smirks, Garron breathes heavily, Evander studies me like he can peel back my skin and see the marrow.

Finally Evander speaks. “No, it’s only been since the start of the school year. We knew you intrigued us back in school, but you didn’t talk to or hang with anyone. Then you were gone. Imagine our surprise when we see you years later standing in our nephew’s classroom as his teacher. Then, that meddling bitch sent out the email telling everyone about your channel. Just like that. We were hooked, lined, and sunk.”

My heart pounds hard enough to bruise.

Garron’s voice rumbles next. “Knowing your past means you can take pain and still lift your chin. That makes you strong.”

Corwin’s grin curves sharp again. “And because you fuck like you mean it.”

My laugh is bitter. “At least one of you can’t pretend it’s deeper than that.”

Evander’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile. “Deeper always comes later. Tonight, we deal in truth.”

He leans back, giving me space. And for the first time since this started, I feel something dangerous.

I feel choice.

The buckle slides open with another soft click. My second wrist is free.

Blood rushes to my hand, pins and needles stabbing at my fingers. I pull my arms down to my sides, curling them in close, protective. Not striking. Not yet.

“You’re really going to let her loose?” Corwin asks. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Evander says.

“You think that’s a guarantee?” Corwin snarls. “She’ll bolt the second her feet hit the floor.”

“Then we’ll chase,” Garron rumbles, steady as ever. “And she’ll learn.”

I flex my wrists, staring at them like I don’t know whether they’re mine anymore. Freedom tastes strange when it’s handed over by men who chained you in the first place.

Evander steps back, giving me space. “Stand up.”

The moment I stand, my balance falters and I catch myself against the bedframe. I expect one of them to steady me. None of them do.

“Walk,” Evander says.

“To where?”

“Anywhere in the cabin,” he says. “Just not outside. Not yet.”

Corwin snorts. “Not ever.”

I roll my eyes, brushing hair back from my face. “What if I try?”

“Then you’ll learn what it costs,” Garron says simply.

I test my weight, shifting forward. Each step is slow, my body braced for one of them to grab me. None do. They watch. Corwin perched on the bed like a predator, Garron planted near the door, Evander by the dresser, hands tucked in his pockets like this is just another night.

The floorboards groan under my bare feet as I take my first lap around the room. Small space. I stop by the door. Garron blocks it with his frame. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just waits.