Page 8 of Twisted Liars

“You’re absolutely right,” Zara replied. “We didn’t need to tell you anything. But seeing as we were going to all the effort of bringing you down here, we thought we might as well fill you in on everything for our own amusement. It’s exhausting to play happy families with you all the time, so it’s nice to have a break from being your ‘mom’ and talk to you the way I really want to for once.”

“And like we said,” Ali added. “Even if you do remember, it doesn’t matter one bit. Now that you know what we could do to those little brothers of yours in Michigan, you won’t tell a soul, will you?”

I balled my hands into fists, fingernails biting into my palms. “You’re sick,” I hissed. “All of you. Fucking sick. You won’t get away with this.”

“We can and we will. You belong to us, Amerie. From now on, your only responsibility in life is to grow healthy babies for us. Starting with this one,” Zara said, gesturing toward my midsection.

“You know that contract my father signed is just made-up bullshit, right?” I snarled, jumping to my feet again. “You don’t actually own me!”

“All contracts are made up, if you think about it,” she said, sounding bored. “All laws too. In fact, every single thing that humans do is made up by someone, somewhere along the line.”

“That’s just semantics,” I said, eyes narrowing. “You won’t get away with doing this to me. No fucking way.”

“Like I said, we can and we will.” Zara straightened her spine, instantly appearing two inches taller. “Those who are at the top in society—like us—are at the top for a good reason. We don’t get burned, ever, but we’ll burn the ones who try with great pleasure. So just try us, Amerie. See what happens.”

Ali snapped his fingers. “I’m getting tired,” he said. “Flora, get ready.”

Dr. Carmichael lifted the needle, eyes focusing on my neck. I shrieked and tried to run, but Ali grabbed me before I could get anywhere. “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “Like she said, it’s safe for the baby.”

Dr. Carmichael drew closer, eyes reflecting the flaming torch. “Just a quick prick,” she said. “You’ll barely feel a thing.”

I screamed again and struggled in Ali’s grip, but I was no match for his strength. The needle sank into the side of my neck. Within seconds, my knees were buckling. The rest of my body quickly followed suit, and my eyes fluttered as vertigo set in. My mind turned foggy and I was struck by a strange sensation, like I was falling through time. Falling forever and ever.

I tried to croak out a word, wondering if someone would catch me, and then everything around me went dark.

Blackout.

Amerie

I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I tried to adjust to the bright overhead light. I groaned as a sharp pain shot through my head, and I lifted a hand to touch the bandage wrapped around it.

“Oh, thank god! You’re awake!” An anxious voice cut through the air, along with the rustle of movement. Zara loomed over my bed a second later. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and scratchy. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Where am I?” I croaked.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said, gently squeezing my hand. “Don’t worry, you’re getting the best care available. I had my friend Dr. Carmichael make arrangements to take over your case the second I received the news.”

I tried to sit up, but the pain in my head grew until it felt as if my skull was about to shatter. I grimaced and lay back down. “What happened?”

Zara’s eyes flickered with concern. “You don’t remember?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she tilted her head. “You really don’t remember anything at all?”

I furrowed my brows, straining to recall what landed me in this bed. All I could remember were brief flashes of the Snowflake dance, spending the night with Jensen, visiting Addy’s house the next day, Jensen waving a slice of cheese in my face for some reason, and then… nothing. Total blank.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, you’re alive. That’s the most important thing.” She turned and strode across the room to grab a plastic chair. Then she brought it to my bedside and took a seat, face still drawn with worry.

“What day is it?” I asked, slowly looking around the quiet room.

The blanket covering me was a mint green knit, and a plush blue dressing gown hung from a peg on the closed door. Sweet-smelling roses sat in a crystal vase on a table below the windowsill, almost masking the underlying scent of disinfectant and bleach.

Even though I was clearly safe and sound in a private hospital suite, something was nagging at the edge of my mind, holding me back from feeling completely secure. I couldn’t figure out what it was, though. The fog in my head was too thick.

“It’s Monday.” Zara glanced at the gold watch on her wrist. “Just after three.”

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