Page 164 of You Found Me

“This is wrong. This is all wrong.” She startled as the empty jug rattled across the tile floor. “On your feet.”

Dread glued her to the floor. “Is there…a towel?”

“Get up.” He pulled her to her feet like she was a doll, then turned her toward the mirror. “Look at this.”

Lester’s eyes were wide and unhinged and hypnotic. What she saw in them terrified her so much she couldn’t breathe.

He shook her shoulders. “Look at your hair!”

She ripped her gaze off him and onto herself. Her white robe was stained with dye, and her red curls had not turned magically back to blonde. They’d turned an unmistakable, unnatural shade of anime orange. The color vibrated against her skin and made her flushed and blotchy.

She wasn’t Lucy anymore. She wasn’t Della Bellamy either.

Horror crept up her back, along her scalp, and into her brain.

If she’d been alone and this had been a normal day, she would have burst into tears. But she wasn’t alone, and this was so much worse than a bad dye job.

“What the hell?” Mad rage twisted his face. “What the hell is this? What did you do?”

“N-nothing.” She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat refused to budge. “It always looks d-different when it’s wet.”

“Bullshit. You fucked this up on purpose.” He shoved her into the counter. “Didn’t you.”

Della caught herself on the edge of the sink. “No. I’ve never dyed my own hair before, but I did what it said…except…there’s no shampoo. Maybe?—”

“You think shampoo would fix this?” He fisted her hair and twisted, yanking her head back with a sharp tug that brought tears to her eyes.

“I’ll do it again. I’ll get it right this time. I promise.”

He pulled out his phone and growled. “We don’t have time. This has already put us off schedule. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

He stomped out of the bathroom, absorbed by his phone.

She tugged off the robe and gripped her pendant. She pushed it again and again and again. Was this thing even working?

If it was, wouldn’t Ward be here already? And if it wasn’t…

If it wasn’t…

Where are you, Ward?

More tears fell. She couldn’t stop them. Della picked up the new clothes Lester had bought for her from where he’d left them on the counter. He’d selected a rhinestone-studded T-shirt and ripped, baggy jeans. She put them on in a blurry, terror-filled haze, careful to tuck the panic button inside the shirt where he wouldn’t see it.

She didn’t know what else to do.

A bell dinged in the bedroom. The absurdly cheerful sound made her flinch.

Lester swore. She heard his footsteps stomp toward the bathroom and shuffled away from the sound on instinct.

He appeared in the doorway, all fury and frustration.

“Come with me.” Lester grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him. His grip was so tight she thought the bones in her arm would break.

“My shoes.” She tried to drag her feet, but it was pointless. He was too big. She couldn’t slow him down.

He shook her arm. “Leave them.”

She tried to grab the chair in the living room as they stormed past it, but missed.

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