“No!” Reality slipped from my hands, but I needed to stay in the present. I had to fight back.
“He always called you little lady, didn’t he?”
For a moment, I was so quiet inside that I felt like I had fallen back into the white coma of shock. “How…” I couldn’t continue speaking, staggering as if the ground beneath me had turned towhite nothingness. Dad had his own ammo, he didn’t need a Glock.
You did that on purpose!I heard Mom cry.
The rope around my neck tightened.
I’m locked in!
I tried to run to the front door, but I fell to my knees and dropped the gun. Dad immediately picked it up and put it in his belt.
“You’re completely out of your mind, child. You belong in bed!” he said now, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.
“How do you know…” I choked out.
“I saw a lot more than just these pictures. Isaac sent me videos and personal messages.” Dad didn’t sound triumphant, more like disgusted.
“And now you’re using…”You’re using what you saw to fuel my fears even more… I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let his words bog me down. But I was so dizzy. Grabbing my arm, Dad pulled me to my room, but suddenly, a voice rose from the floor below.
A piercing, impatient, impetuous voice that made my heart heavy and light. “Will? Will, can you hear me?”Nathan!Some of the panic fell away from me. I wanted to laugh and cry. He must have somehow managed to get by our doorman, Franklin.
“I’m here,” I shouted, praying he heard me.
Confused, Dad stared at the door. “Who is that?”
Still shaking, I looked at his face. “Someone who’ll get me out of here!” The tightness in my throat loosened and reality became sharper. I took advantage of the element of surprise, tore myself away from Dad, and ran down the stairs, one hand on the railing.
When I reached the bottom, I heard Dad’s piercing voice, “Stop!”
I turned. Dad pointed the Glock at me and followed me. My heart suddenly started pounding wildly.
“I’m sorry, Willa, but you’re going to tell Mr. Cox that you’re sick and need psychiatric help.”
“No.”
Dad shook his head unhappily. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
I ran to the door. “He won’t let me go, Nathan. Mr. Cox, please, he has a gun. Open the door!”
“Open that goddamn door,” I heard Nathan yell. “She’s not his daughter. I can prove it. He’s holding her against her will!”
He found the copy!
“Will!” It sounded like Nathan was throwing himself at the heavy wood with all his might.
“The door stays locked, Mr. Cox!” Dad said loudly. “Whatever he shows you, it’s a fake! She’s sick. And I don’t have a gun either.”
Mr. Cox seemed to be arguing with Nathan outside. Quite heatedly.
“Willa!” That was my father. Outside the door, I turned to him, my knees going weak. If Nathan couldn’t convince Mr. Cox to open the door, that man would have me drugged and locked in my room. Probably for years. Decades. Forever.
“We’ll get this right, honey, believe me.”
He sounded so harmless, so completely gentle, almost as if he believed it himself.
I swallowed hard. “I’m not a rarity that you can keep safe behind glass. I’m not your property. I wonder what would have come after Mom’s wedding ring. Your bed?”
