“What… Why are we going here?” My voice is so feeble it nearly gets drowned out by the rain.
Her lips remain pressed together as she slows down to turn onto a dirt road. “You’re lucky, you know. It’s messed up to think that, but it’s true. You were his daughter, so you got a free pass. But every other girl that ended up at that house in the woods had two options: be hunted or be part of the hunting.” She speeds up even when the road gets rough and bumpy. “The ones that chose the latter got out. But we never really escaped. They owned us. Still do.” She speeds up as we near the shore of the lake.
I’m struggling to process what she’s saying as we get closer to the water without the car slowing down.
“Camilla, what’re you doing?” I whisper in horror.
“All the branding—you understand that part.” She looks at me with her brows raised. “All of us get branded. It’s how the claim you—like when a cow gets branded. We’re just like that.”
I search her eyes. “Are you high?”
“I’m always high. Because if I’m not, the nightmares of what they did to me and what I did to them are so thick in my brain,I can’t see straight. It’s like when we were in the woods that day and there was snow. So much snow. You remember right?”
“I…” I glance from the water to the lake. We’re so close and she’s not slowing down.
I think I’m about to die.
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I used to think about it all the time. And I still do every so often.
But that need to take my final breath is not as prominent anymore. So I used it for something else instead.
“Stop the car, please!” I shout, reaching for the door handle, preparing to jump out.
She doesn’t listen, and the engine roars as she speeds up. I start to shove the door open, bracing myself for the impact of when my body hits the dirt. But then she slams on the brakes. Dirt and puddle water fly through the air as the tires skid. The car slides to a stop mere inches from where the water meets the sandy shoreline.
I frantically breathe in and out, my vision spotting as a panic attack threatens to choke me into unconsciousness.
“Why did I ever have to meet him?” She sobs with her fingers still wrapped around the steering wheel. “Why did he ever have to come into my life?”
Unsure what the hell to do—if I should try to comfort her or not, I say, “My father?”
“No,” she whines, tears streaming down her face as she looks at me. “Trystan.
Hearing her say his name confirms every speculation I had about that day in the woods. “He’s the one that lured you into the woods.”
“He’s one of them.” She lowers her head, her shoulder shaking as she sobs. “There’s more. I hate them all. There are so many. Too many. So much fucking more.”
I’m struggling to follow her. “More what?”
“People involved. There are so many that it makes it impossible to do anything about it. That’s why everyone gets away with it.” She reaches for the middle console, opens it, and takes out a glass pipe and lighter. “The people in charge are part of this group—cult—I don’t even know what to call it.” She puts the end of the pipe to her lips, flicks the lighter, heats the glass from below, and takes a hit of the crystals.
The cab of the car fills with a musty, almost odorless, smoke, and my old addiction nips at me like a salivating monster, begging to be fed.
She just told me my father dated her.
That Trystan, my cousin, led her into the woods that day.
That Trystan was there.
That my family is liars.
That this town is a tangled mess of rotting secrets.
I’d been suspicious of all of this, but with the billowing holes in my memories, I hadn’t had any proof. Not to mention, I always second guess myself. But Camilla confirmed it.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask as she takes another hit.
