Chapter 3

2

My mother left my father and me when I was just a small child.

Nine years ago, my father took me to live with Auntie and her eighteen-year-old son, Alistair.

Auntie’s health was poor, and she couldn’t handle long trips, so my father moved in to look after her.

Auntie loved me dearly, cooking whatever I asked for and sneaking me extra pocket money.

In her, I finally found the motherly love I had lacked all my life.

Now that her time was running short, my heart felt like it had been crushed by a lead weight.

Returning to the house where I had lived for nine years, I felt like a total stranger.

The decor had been completely changed, scrubbing away every trace of my existence.

In this massive house, there was no longer a place for me.

A sour, aching sensation clawed at my chest.

Alistair reached for my luggage, but at the slightest touch, I recoiled in terror.

The anger he had been bottling up all the way home finally exploded. “Hayes, what on earth are you doing? Is this some sort of ‘hard-to-get’ act?”

A ringing sound filled my world as the phantom pain of the electric shocks resurfaced. Terrifying memories flooded my brain, and I trembled as if I were standing in an ice cave. The taste of blood rose in my throat.

I reminded myself over and over that I didn’t love him anymore, that I was finally home, until I could barely stand.

Alistair narrowed his eyes. “Hayes, I’ll warn you again. My mother’s health can’t handle any stress. If you dare pull any stunts, I won’t let you off easily.”

I thought of what the director had told me―that Alistair had paid extra for them to give me ‘special training.’ Every day since then had been a descent into hell.

My face went deathly pale.