Page 129 of The Sea Witch's Son

I swallow thickly, “Does she know about Calista’s scars?”

Marlin goes quiet for a moment.

“She called them her uncles. The businessmen who would come to visit her mother. Nurses at the academy used to place bets on what days Calista would come to school with bandages running down her legs.”

I stare at him, “She must have destroyed them. No mother would allow men to violate her daughter like that.”

Something close to a smile hits his lips, “Who do you think sent the men up to her bedroom in the first place?”

Bone-gripping fear spears through me.

“You can’t be serious.”

He chuckles at my horrified expression, “My little saint, this is Wolf Hollow. You either learn to survive or you die trying.”

I can barely breathe through the sudden nausea.

“But... her own mother?”

“Parents can be the cruelest of them all.” He clears his throat and looks back down at the spreadsheets, “Needless to say, when the Dragon is displeased it is best to duck and cover.”

I find myself unable to ask any more questions.

By the time I leave the library, Marlin has gone off to run an errand and dusk has begun to set. Streaks of red and orange slice through the sky, illuminating the gnarled trees rising all around me.

It’s beautiful yet the absence of crows and howling wolves has goosebumps creeping over my flesh. Even the wilderness seems to be waiting for the Dragon’s verdict, the collective intake of breath making it feel like I’m one gust away from falling indefinitely.

I keep my pace quick and even as I walk along the trails. A branch snaps and my head snaps to the side, scanning the shadows for anything out of the ordinary.

A deer stares back at me, its expression frozen with fear. I smile, giving it a little wave before another movement catches my eye.

The man lunges from the trees, his decaying clothes and aging face making me scream. His hands are outstretched, grasping at the edge of my skirt when I turn and run. The deer sprintsahead of me, bounding and galloping through the trees as I stumble and scramble to get away.

A bark sounds in the distance and swears flow out of the man’s mouth. I risk a glance over my shoulder, and the sight of his brittle teeth and shrivelled eyes is enough to keep me running deep into the wilderness.

The sound of an animal tearing through the forest has the footsteps behind me fading. I keep running, adrenaline pounding through my system as the trees around me start to grow thicker.

And taller.

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by staggering green walls. The deer is long gone, and when I look behind me, the impenetrable hedge blocks off any threats from the outside.

But now I have to figure out how to navigate theinside.

My breath is short and uneven, the tremble in my legs telling me I only have a few minutes until the shock sinks in. I reach for my phone to figure out my location. The maps can’t find a signal, and no matter how many times I refresh the page, the status doesn't change.

“Shit.”

Taking another look around, I note the winding trail ahead. The hedges are sporadically placed, ensuring dead ends and loopholes are hidden within the thick green wall. I feel like I’m in some sort of labyrinth, the identical passageways making me nauseous with indecision.

“What do you call a man with one foot inside the grave?”

“Hello?”

I peer down the passage to my left, only for the creepy voice to echo from my right.

“A man with one foot in the grave. What do you call him?”

“A ghost.”

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