Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
My fingers tremble as my legs give way, and I flop onto her leather chair. The soft cushion under me offers support, but when I open the folder and my focus lands on the photo attached to pages of documents, my heart stutters.
My mother lied to me. She’s been lying to me since I was little. Emotions coil in my gut, tightly knotting in both anger and frustration, but also a hint of sadness. There, right in front of me, is a photo of my father. It’s so clear that’s who the man is because I look just like him.
All my life, I’ve wondered why my mother’s bright red curls are nothing like my wavy chocolate brown. In truth, I may have a tinge of red in my hair if I stand in the sun, but it’s my pale blue-grey eyes that are nothing like her green ones. But they look exactly like the man’s in the photo.
Setting it down, I focus on the information.
And that’s when, for the first time in my life, I see my father’s real name.
I’m about to turn the page when the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and suddenly, there’s a cloth over my mouth. I struggle with the strong hand holding it in place, but I’m no match. No matter how much I claw at the flesh, I can’t fight off the attacker.
And as my lashes flutter closed, realisation dawns on me that the person who had been following me has finally caught up. That’s when everything goes black.
THREE
MIREN
When my eyes flutter open, there’s a pounding in my skull. It feels as if I’d been drinking far too much alcohol and not enough water. My mind is fuzzy as I roll over and wince at the throb behind my eyes. I’m pretty sure I didn’t go out partying last night. I look around at the darkened room, and reality slams right into me.
It’s not my bedroom. The last thing I remember is seeing a photo of a man who I thought was my father. The memory is so clear, and his face is still ingrained in my thoughts. I never thought I would ever see him, but my mother’s secrets have slowly come to light. Her lies are now revealed, and I don’t know what to make of it.
Pushing to my feet, I take in my surroundings. It’s not a bad bedroom. There’s a lovely king-sized bed, along with heavy, suede curtains and a dresser. When I pull open the curtains, it’s raining.
I’m not entirely sure where I am, but it’s most certainly not London. It’s still dark out, but there isn’t a flickering light from my viewpoint, which means the house I’m in must be outside the city. It looks like I’m in the countryside.
I leave the curtains open as I explore the rest of the room, but there’s not too much else to find. The cupboards are empty, as are the drawers in the vanity unit. The door to the actual room is locked, so no matter how much I try, I can’t get out.
I shout out for help and wait, listening for any sign of life on the other side of the door, but there’s nothing. No response. So, I try once more, and in the deafening silence, the only thing I can hear is my heart thudding in my ears.
I can’t escape. There’s no indication of who has taken me, or what they want from me. All I can be grateful for is the fact they haven’t hurt me. Yet.
I’m a prisoner.
I’m even more certain now that the man responsible for this is my father. Anything else doesn’t make sense. It must be who Mum was talking to when I overheard her. And the folder I found in her office was evidence enough she was never completely honest with me.
I settle back on the bed, but I’m not relaxed. Far from it. Flicking on the bedside lamp, I slip back under the covers and curl into a ball.
My mind is racing with thoughts of how I’m going to get out of here. No matter who took me, I’m not staying here. I won’t agree to anything they want from me. My mother taught me to be strong, and I’m not about to let her down. She’s fought for me, even though she lied. Hearing her tell the person on the other end of the phone she won’t let me go to them, only strengthens my resolve.
My stomach rumbles. I’m hungry. Mum and I were meant to have dinner, but she wasn’t in the office when I looked for her, and now, I’m here. In a house I’ve never seen before, and I don’t know who took me.
Exhaustion and the headache take hold of me, and I shut my eyes in the hopes it will help ease the pain. My throat is dry. I’m thirsty, hungry, and tired. As I lie here alone, I cry. The tears slowly trickle down the side of my face onto the pillow.