Page 10 of Where We Began

“No, it's not.” My shoulder blades grind against the wallpaper covered in red and black swallows. “Your mom's the reason I'm trapped here!”

He balks, his hand dropping to his side. “Oh.” Whatever he feels contorts his eyebrows, his lips, making him seem older. I remain still, partially hoping he'll leave... and afraid that he will. He's shown me the only kindness since Annie put me in that car.

Dominic lifts his head enough to focus on me. “It's okay for you to hate her. Please don't blame me, though. I didn't have any part in taking you hostage.”

Hostage.The word flips my stomach inside out. I know what it means, and it puts a name to my situation that I'd been incapable of doing myself. Of course, I'm their hostage. They're keeping me here so they can prevent my dad from...how did he put it...vanishing again?

I regret not asking Annie for answers when I had the chance. Eyeing her son, I lick my bottom lip nervously. “Do you... know what my dad did?”

He shakes his head slowly. “No, only that my father hates his guts. He's talked about Joseph Greene as long as I can remember.”

“My last name is Laurel,” I mumble defensively.Dad changed his last name?He really had tried his best to hide from these people.

Dominic leans to one side, rocking in place. “I'm sure you miss your family. Maybe you'll get to call them on a cell-phone. I've got one you could use.”

“A what-phone?”

He staggers, like I've slapped him. “How do you not know what a cell-phone is?Everyoneknows.”

“I know lots of stuff. Probably all kinds of things you don't.”

His shoulders slide upwards; he's trying not to laugh. “Like what?”

“Well, how about the right way to bait a fish-hook! Or how to tell when it's time to pick a tomato.”

The laughter rumbles out of him. It reminds me of the rain clouds earlier, but... nicer. “Okay. You've got me there. Someday you can show me those things.”

I'm smiling, but I don't know why. It feels good, after everything. “Okay.”

“You should get some sleep,” he says kindly, moving into the hall, half-closing the door. “Goodnight, Laiken. I'll see you tomorrow.”

A pathetic part of me wants him to stay. He stepped in to save me from those cruel women. That kindness is something I'm ready to cling to. But I remind myself I don't know him. I can't ask him to sleep here, watching me all night. How weird that would be.

“Night,” I reply, staring at him until he shuts the door. He's gone, but the air still smells like him; like cloves and old books. Is that how all boys smell?

I'm sure I won't get any sleep. But when I climb beneath the unfamiliar blankets with the lights still on, I pass out. It's so quick I don't have time to think. I don't even dream.

I wake up confused.That isn't my ceiling, what...?I tangle in the blankets and crash to the floor. The pain jolts me into remembering everything: the strangers, my promise to my sister, and Annie.

The door wrenches open. A maid that looks like Emma, but isn't, gawks at me. “What happened?” she asks, edging closer.

My glare stops her in her tracks. “Nothing. Go away.”

She falters, giving me a wary look. “There's no need to be like that. Manners will get you much further under this roof than rudeness.”

“I saidget out!”

That time she listens.

No one checks on me until mid-morning. Annie shows up, her face cool as she observes me crouched in the corner. “Get changed, then come eat.”

“I don't want anything from you.”

“No, but youneedfood and water, regardless of your wants.” She throws open the closet. Inside are tons of clothes on hangers. She holds up a pair of jeans that are crisp, navy blue, and look to be my size.

My heart squeezes. “How long were you preparing for me to come here?”

Annie blinks. I think I caught her off guard. Her recovery back to neutral is immediate. “Be happy there are things for you to wear. Get changed. Go explore. It's not like you're a prisoner.”

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