Page 2 of Love Me in the Dark

One excruciating minute passes, then another, until finally, it seems like the coast is clear. I need to get moving before I lose my nerve—or worse, before a guard comes past or even something as innocent as one of the kids from another building going out to use the bathroom. I can’t let anybody see me do this.

First, I toss my bag through the window, waiting for the soft thump of it hitting the ground before hoisting myself up and wiggling through. It’s not a long drop, but I still have to clamp my lips tightly shut to hold back a grunt when I hit the ground.

The night air is cool, and the sky is full of stars. That’s one thing about being out here, in the middle of nowhere, with only a few lights scattered through the compound. There’s nothing to get in the way of all those millions of stars up there. I might even miss it when I’m back in Reno. Somehow, I have to get back to Reno.

But first things first. Instead of trying to climb the fence and the razor wire coiled on top of it, I grab my bag and dash for the rear of the compound. Behind Rebecca’s house and the gardens, there’s a brick wall instead of a fence. I’ve kept my eye on it the past week after Rebecca refused to let me leave. Wondering if I could climb it when the time came. I spotted a couple of cracks in the mortar, big enough for me to wedge the toe of my sneaker into when the time came.

And the time has come.

I run as quietly as possible, my eyes sweeping my surroundings constantly. Not a single light is on in Rebecca’s house—a good sign, something I have to cling to as I duck between the rows of carrots and potatoes and finally come to what’s probably about ten feet of stacked brick.

Here goes nothing.

I find the lowest toehold and reach up to grasp the closest hole in the mortar.

And that’s when the sirens go off.

“No!” I can’t hear my own heartbroken cry over the high-pitched scream of the warning siren somebody waited to set off until I touched the wall. Like they wanted to drag this out to the final second. Waiting until I was almost sure this would work before bursting my stupid bubble.

I can give up now, or I can keep going. There’s really no choice to be made here. My heart’s going to burst, but I have to try, so I do, scrambling as fast as I can and scraping my fingers while I do. I reach the top of the wall by the time feet pound over the ground behind me, and I throw myself blindly over the side.

Only when I’m falling through the air do I remember that I have no idea what’s on the other side. It’s kind of amazing how many images can go through a person’s mind in only a second or two.

As it turns out, there aren’t pointy rocks or guard dogs or anything like that.

There are armed men. Two of them. Waiting for me.

“No, please!” But they’re already on me, snickering at my pleas. Their hands encircle my arms, hurting me, and something deep down inside tells me they’d hurt me much worse if I tried to fight.

There was never a chance. Rebecca is always watching.

By the time we reach the front porch of her house, somebody has cut the alarm. She’s waiting for us up there, wearing an ankle-length robe covering a nightgown with a neck that buttons under her chin. Always modest, staring down at me from the top of the steps the way she looks down on all of us.

“Lift her head,” she murmurs when I won’t look at her. One of the men gives my long, brown braid a sharp tug that aligns my gaze with Rebecca’s.

And it’s chilling. There is no light behind her cold eyes. Her thin mouth is twisted in an ugly scowl that makes the sweat covering my skin turn icy.

“Take her to one of the holding cells for the night. Get her out of those clothes and into a proper dress,” she adds, wrinkling her nose. “We’ll deal with her in the morning.”

I’ve been just about as low as a person can be over the past couple of years.

But this is the first time I’ve ever hoped tomorrow never comes.

2

LEONA

It’s getting dark again.

I gaze up at the narrow window of my cell, which is barely wide enough for any light to come through. Even that is thin now, weak. I’ve been in here since last night, and it won’t be long before night falls again.

My eyes are burning—a night without sleep will do that. Will I be able to sleep tonight? That probably has to do with whether somebody actually comes in to see me, which no one has since I was thrown in here.

My stomach hurts. How long has it been since I ate? Dinner last night, and I wasn’t exactly hungry. Too worked up over what I knew would happen in a handful of hours. I only forced myself through a few bites for the sake of looking normal and pushed food around on my plate after that.

Was that what first set off suspicion? There are eyes on us at all times—always.

Then again, now that I have had all this time to lie here on this wooden plank that’s supposed to serve as a bed and think about it, Rebecca has probably been watching me more intentlythan ever since I asked if I could leave. I can’t believe I was naive enough to think I could get away with it.