Chapter 4

The garden house was small and musty, filled with dusty furniture covered in white sheets. The two men shoved me inside and locked the heavy wooden door from the outside. The only light came from a single, grimy window high on one wall. I was trapped. Fear, cold and sharp, coiled in my stomach. I ran to the door, pounding on it with my fists.

"Let me out! Please, let me out!" I screamed until my throat was raw, but the only answer was silence.

After what felt like hours, a small slot in the door opened. One of the guards slid a tablet through. It landed on the floor with a clatter. A moment later, the screen lit up. Michael' s face appeared. It was a video. He was in his study, looking directly into the camera.

"Sarah," he said, his voice soft and intimate, as if he were whispering in my ear. "I know you' re probably scared and confused right now. But I need you to understand something."

The camera panned to the side. Emily was there, sitting on the edge of his desk. He reached out and pulled her into his lap.

"I love this woman," he said, his eyes never leaving the camera, but his words directed at Emily. "I love her more than anything in this world. Everything I do, I do for her."

He leaned in and kissed Emily, a long, passionate kiss that made me feel physically ill. I wanted to look away, to throw the tablet against the wall, but I was frozen, forced to watch this cruel performance.

"You, Sarah," he continued after breaking the kiss, his arm still wrapped tightly around Emily' s waist. "You were a mistake. A burden I had to carry. You look a little like her, you know. Sometimes, when the light was just right, I could pretend you were her. But you' re not. You' re a pale imitation. A cheap copy."

Emily laughed, a sound that grated on my nerves. "Tell her what you' re going to do tonight, honey," she cooed.

Michael smiled. "Tonight, I' m going to wash the slate clean. I' m going to present you to my friends, and they' re going to have their fun with you. And once they' re done, you' ll be nothing. A ghost. And Emily and I can finally be together, without your shadow hanging over us."

The video ended. The screen went dark. But the images were burned into my mind. A pale imitation. A cheap copy. The words tore through the last of my defenses, and a gut-wrenching sob escaped my lips. I curled into a ball on the dusty floor, the shame and heartbreak so intense I thought I might die from it. He didn' t just not love me. He despised me. He had used my love for him as a weapon against me.

I screamed, a raw, animal sound of pure agony. I screamed for my parents. I screamed for the girl I used to be. I screamed until I had no voice left.

Suddenly, I smelled it. Smoke.

My head snapped up. A thin wisp of smoke was curling under the door. Then another. And another. The fire scare. It was happening. Panic, primal and absolute, seized me. My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The smell of burning wood filled the small space, and I was six years old again, trapped in my bedroom, the heat scorching the door, my mother' s screams echoing in my ears.

"No... no, please, no!" I scrambled to the window, jumping and clawing at the wall, but it was too high. The smoke was getting thicker, stinging my eyes, clogging my throat. I was going to die here. Just like my parents. The same way.

The room was filling with black smoke. I sank to the floor, coughing and choking, my vision blurring. This was it. This was the end he had planned for me. A ghost. That' s what he called me.

Through the haze of smoke and terror, I heard a loud crash. The door splintered, then burst open. A figure stood silhouetted against the a surreal orange glow from outside. For a crazy, hopeful second, I thought it was Michael, that he had changed his mind, that he had come to save me.

But as the figure stepped into the room and scooped me into his arms, I saw his face. It wasn't Michael. It was his grandfather, Mr. Davies, his face a mask of fury and terror. And behind him were several security guards I' d never seen before, their faces grim.

"Get her out of here!" Mr. Davies roared, his voice filled with a rage I had never heard from him. He carried me out of the burning garden house and into the cool night air. I gasped for breath, my lungs burning, the world spinning around me before everything went black.