My hand trembles and most of the water in the cup has spilled down the front of my nightgown by the time I reach her. Her face is bruised, and shiny ropes are wrapped around her arms—like the kind used to tie up the Rottweilers Briar’s father owns: chains.
“Closer,” Robert insists.
I have no choice but to take another step. Then another…
I jump as the girl lifts her head, her eyes huge in the darkness. “What’s your name?” Her voice is so soft that I barely hear her.
“Don’t answer,” Robert snaps, but it’s too late.
My lips are already moving. “E-Ellen,” I croak.
The girl smiles. “My…my name is Anna-Natalia.” She stares past me to Robert, meeting his gaze directly. But she doesn’t tremble like everyone else does around the Winthorp heirs. She doesn’t even flinch. “Mynameis Anna-Natalia.”
“Go back upstairs, Elle,” Robert says, shoving me toward the door. “Now, you know what real monsters look like. They look just like us.”
Turning on my heel, I run, escaping the basement and sprinting back upstairs. I return to Briar’s room panting, and she observes me from her bed, pouting.
“Where’s my milk?”
I can’t even speak. Instead, I grab the brush from the edge of her mattress and return it to her vanity. “I should go. Goodnight—”
“Stay with me tonight.” She reaches out, and I marvel at her slim fingers. They look just like mine but softer. Cleaner.Prettier,like she said. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“But…” My eyes dart toward her bedroom door. I want to run to my room and crawl beneath my plain covers. I want to forget what Robert showed me. “If anyone else catches me—”
“They won’t,” Briar insists. “Come!” She pats the space beside her, and I reluctantly crawl onto the mattress, slipping beneath her silk sheets. “You see?” She runs her fingers along my stomach, tickling me. “We’re just like real sisters.”
“Real sisters,” I echo, snuggling as close to her as I dare. Sometimes I forget that’s exactly what we are: sisters.
“Ellen?” she whispers.
“Yes?”
“If monsters did really come for me… If I were going to die, you wouldn’t let it happen. Would you?”
“No.” I shake my head, my heart swelling with protectiveness. “I’d fight them for you. Always.”
“Good.” She closes her eyes and gestures for me to switch the light off. “Night.”
* * *
Something is wrong. I know it the second my eyes open to darkness. Just a sliver of moonlight slips in between the curtains shrouding the windows but it’s enough to illuminate the empty space beside me. Briar’s gone.
As soon as I register that fact I catch a shadow drifting across the wall, ghosting over a shelf of porcelain dolls. Briar? No. It’s too massive and terror descends like ice water. This figure is bulky. Someone big. Too big to be Mother or one of the servants.
Too big to be Robert.
Their footsteps are heavy. Cautious. Paralyzed by fear, I crane my neck and find a figure hunched over the foot of the bed. The monster Briar feared. Just as Robert taught me, he lookshuman.
Blond hair peeks from the edges of a black woolen cap. That color makes my heart stop—he’s wearing it from head to toe. Black slacks and a dark sweatshirt meant to disguise him in the shadows.
The second he meets my gaze, I know. He’s dangerous, just like the men my mother warned me about. What he’s holding proves it: something silver glinting in the dark, a forbidden object I’m not allowed to touch.
A knife.
He points it at me, his jaw clenched. “Get up. I said get up,” he hisses. His voice sounds strange, with emphasis placed on odd syllables. “Now!” He adjusts the knife, but his hand wavers. His eyes are too wide. Fearful?
Suddenly, he stiffens, his head cocked. Behind him, the door is partially opened, and he cuts his gaze to it. When he turns back to me, he points the knife again, jabbing the edge toward the bed.
“Get under it,” he commands. “Now! Don’t think. Don’t move. Just breathe. You hear me? All you do is fuckingbreathe.”