“It’s not really your fault. It’s your mother’s. She knew the deal when she had you—that she was supposed to raise you with the knowledge of who I am, then hand you over when it was time—but clearly, things didn’t happen that way,” he continues, snapping his fingers as he glances to my right. “Don’t worry, though. I’m about to take care of it.”

I turn my head to see what he’s looking at and my gut churns.

“Please don’t do this, Jerry,” begs my mother as a woman with bright red hair and fingernails violently shoves her into the room. My mom trips over her gashed up bare feet and falls forward. With her hands bound, her face slams against the dirty carpet. Instead of getting up, she sobs, her body wrenching. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything if you just let me go.”

“No more bargains.” The man rises to his feet and stalks toward her. “Your bargains aren’t worth anything.”

She lifts her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I gave you our children, didn’t I? Just like I promised I would.”

I forget how to breathe. How to think. Our children? That means . . .

“Dad?” I gape at the man, horrified and disgusted.

He glances at me, and even though his eyes are like mine, they look unfamiliar, cold. Without saying anything, he grabs my mother by the arm, drags her to the chair, and pushes her down, then kneels in front of her.

“I know I gave you the children to take care of, but you haven’t been raising them how we discussed. They know nothing about us or our beliefs.” He exchanges a look with the red-haired woman, and she grins before rushing down the hallway. He focuses back on my mother, gripping onto her legs. “When I gave you the money to take care of them, I specifically remember stressing how important it was that you taught them about our way of life and about the sacrifice they’d be taking part in. But after talking to them, I see you haven’t even told them who I am.”

“I can give you the money back.” A hysterical sob wrenches from my mother. “Just let me give you back the money.”

“Give me the money back?” He cackles, a sound that sends an icy chill through my body. “We both know you spent that money on drugs a long, long time ago.”

“I can borrow some from someone if you’ll just let me go.” When he remains silent, she cries, “Please, Jerry!”

“I have a better idea,” he says as the woman with red hair returns to the room.

“No . . . No . . . No . . .” Tears pour out of my mother’s eyes as the woman hands my dad a syringe.

“What’s the matter?” He snatches hold of my mother’s arm and twists her wrist. “I thought this is what you wanted? That you’ll do anything to get your hands this.”

“Leave her alone!’ I shout, trying to wiggle my hands free from the cuffs. The metal bites against my wrists as I struggle and the scratches on my hand burn. But I keep fighting, refusing to sit here and watch him hurt her.

The woman in the corner snickers then sits down beside me. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon.”

I’m not sure if she’s talking about it being over for my mom or for me. It doesn’t matter. I can’t let either happen. I have to be strong.

“Just let her go and I’ll do whatever you want. Learn about you and your ways,” I plead with my dad as tears stream down my face.

“Oh, I know you will. But I can’t have your mother messing that up for me. There was a lot of planning that went into bringing you, Sadie, and Felix into this world. You were supposed to be ready for the sacrifice. It wasn’t supposed to be such a fight. You were supposed to be ready to cleanse your soul.” He looks at my mom then plunges the needle into her forearm.

I tell myself he just injected her with drugs. That she’ll wake up like she always does whenever she shoots up. But as her body slumps to the floor, her skin turns sickly white. Her eyes open and veins map her rapidly paling skin.

A blood-curdling scream rips from my chest. “No!”

“Wake up, Ayden,” someone says. “You need to wake up.”

I desperately try to open my eyes, try to blink the image of my dead mother away, but all I see is her lying on that bloodstained carpet where she took her last breath.

“Open your eyes, Ayden . . . Please . . .”

I’m trying. I’m really am.

Please, please let me get out of here.

Please don’t let me die in this place.

I ZONE OFF AS I hold Ayden’s hand, recollecting every moment we spent together. It’s funny, but when I really analyze our past, I can see that I fell in love with him way before I realized it.