Prologue
Mimic
Eleven years ago, outside Las Vegas, Nevada.
“He’s here, Thorne. Take your sister and hide.”
“Why do we have to hide every time someone comes here?”
“Because no one can know about you,” Mom said. She always made us hide. Even when the landlord came to get the rent, she told us to sit in the back of the closet.
“I don’t want to hide.”
“Thorne, please, just take your sister and hide.”
Squinting my eyes, I tried to make her see how mad I was. It never worked, though. She always gave me the look when I did. The one that told me she was hurt.
I wasn’t trying to hurt her; I just wanted her to understand that it wasn’t fair to Rose and me. We didn’t have any friends except Mom.
I loved my little sister, but I wanted to play with other boys. Rose was too little to play rough. She was fragile. It was why Mom named her Rosebud. When we were born, she was a lot smaller than I was.
The doctor told Mom some stupid story about how I took too much and Rose didn’t quite get enough. I wouldn’t do that. Ialways looked out for Rose. She was my baby sister, and it was my job to take care of her.
I always made sure she ate enough before I had more. It meant that sometimes I went to bed a little hungrier, but she needed it more than I did.
“Hurry, Thorne.” Mom grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward the hallway. I ran upstairs and found Rose in our room.
“We have to hide,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the floor.
“Again? Who is he, and why does he keep coming here?”
“I don’t know. Mom won’t tell me.”
I got Rose tucked into the back of the closet. When we moved in, I had found a little door all the way in the back. It was an accident, really.
I was mad at Mom for telling me we still couldn’t go to school. I wanted to be like the other kids. I wanted to ride the school bus and pack a lunch. She said we packed lunches all the time when we went on a picnic.
It wasn’t the same damn thing.
I winced as I used the word in my head. Mom didn’t like those kinds of words. I would never say it where she could hear it. But sometimes I swear she could hear it in my head. She always stared at me when I did.
Anyway, I ran up the stairs and crawled into the closet to hide from her. When I leaned against the wall, it moved. There was no handle, no latch, at least not on this side. But it popped open and there was another room.
Okay, so it wasn’t really a room. It was a space Rose and I could crawl into. Mom couldn’t fit. But I hid in there until I heard her calling me. Her voice was frantic; she sounded scared. I didn’t like it when she sounded like that.
So I gave away my hiding place.
The first time the man showed up, she made us get into that space and hide. She told us not to come out until she came to get us. Sometimes he was there for a long time.
Rose learned to cry without a sound. But I didn’t cry. I was brave. It was my job to protect her, and I always did.
“Get in there, Rose. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going? We’re supposed to both be in here. What if he sees you?” she whispered.
“He won’t see me.” I closed the door and shut her inside. Then I quietly went to the staircase to listen.
“Why are you here? I told your father I would never come back. I haven’t seen Justin in years.”
