Page 77 of Their Little Ghost


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“Of course,” he says, unlocking the medicine cabinet. “You’re just like your sister. First drinking, and now drugs?—”

“It’s not like that. I need to study for a test,” I babble, trying to recover and stop him from sending me to rehab for the foreseeable future. “I thought you might have some Adderall to help me concentrate.”

His eyes narrow in suspicion. I can’t tell whether he really believes what I’m saying, but his temper seems to have dampened. “Do you think I’d leave medication lying around the house?”

“I… I didn’t think,” I stutter. “I was being stupid. I shouldn’t have come in here.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” He hums while rifling around rattling pill bottles. “Aha!” He takes out a bottle and shakes it. “Here we are.”

“I don’t need to take anything,” I say, edging toward the door. “Tonight was a mistake.”

“The only mistake was me trusting you not to ruin this evening,” he says, emptying pills onto his palm. “Take them.”

“I—”

“Take the pills, Erin.”

I can’t get out of it. If I resist, he’ll only force them down my throat like the last time.

He smiles as I swallow them down.

“Night, Dad,” I say, turning to head out, oblivious to what drugs are now zipping through my system. I haven’t eaten for hours, so it won’t be long until they take effect.

Suddenly, he’s right behind me.

“Remember, I’m doing this for your own good,” he hisses.

A needle plunges into my neck like a beesting, then my entire body goes limp. I can’t control my limbs, despite willing them to move, and slump against him. I try to object, but my mouth doesn’t form words properly and I slur, drool dripping down my chin.

“Everything will be okay,” he promises, dragging me through the house.

My bare calves burn from the friction of being pulled across the carpet.

He’s taking me outside, and then… everything…

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

ERIN

My eyes takea second to adjust to the darkness. Everything is slightly out of focus, and straight lines blur at the edges. Unfamiliar sheets scratch my skin, and I sit up in an uncomfortable bed. I put my hand to my forehead, groaning. My head weighs a ton, and it takes all my effort to look around at my unfamiliar surroundings: beige walls with flaking paint, a metal toilet, sink, and cracked tile floors.

Where am I?

I replay what happened leading up to this moment. The fundraiser, searching Dad’s office, getting caught, and then…

Shit. I gulp as realization hits, facing the bolted door that’s holding me prisoner.I’m in Sunnycrest.

This is my punishment for snooping. Perhaps it was inevitable that I’d end up here, the easiest place for my father to gain control of my life.

I take deep breaths, determined not to give in to my rising panic. Outside my room, screams and hysterical laughter echoes. I stay quiet. If I’m stuck here, the last thing I need is for the other patients to learn that I’m the daughter of the man mistreating them.

Suddenly, the door creaks open. I expect to see Dad, arms crossed and ready to deliver another lecture about how I need to be taught a lesson. However, to my surprise, an orderly in a white coat stands in silence.

“Hello?” I say to the unmoving silhouette. “Can I help you?”

He says nothing and doesn’t make eye contact, then he nods to someone on his right and walks away, leaving my door open. Seconds later, Aiden and Eli march into the cell. Aiden’s fists clench in fury, and Eli checks my body for signs of injury. They’re wearing furious expressions, and the small space seems to shrink with them inside.