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PART ONE
THE TAKING
CHAPTER ONE
LILLITH
This isn’t real. It can’t be.
The tip of the revolver glints angrily beneath the flickering street lamp, and I push my face into the back of Mom’s knees so I don’t have to look at it anymore. I don’t understand what’s happening. We were supposed to be taking a shortcut home, and now… I grip the flower Daddy gave me tighter, plucking one of its pretty white petals and making a wish like he taught me.
“Give me your wallet,” the man growls, gesturing to Daddy’s coat pocket with the weapon. His features are hidden by a ski mask, save for a pair of cruel silver eyes, cutting through the shadows like hateful flames.
“I don’t want your life, but I won’t think twice about taking it if you don’t give me what I want.” His gaze shifts to Mom. “Then you and I can have some fun, doll.”
“How dare you.” Dad steps forward, but Mom shoots an arm out and hauls him back.
“Harold, stop,” she orders, her voice shaking heavily as she turns her gaze to the bad man. “Sir, please. We don’t have any money. Do you really think we’d be in this neighborhood if we—”
“Shut the fuck up!” he barks, turning his weapon on her. “One more word and I paint the walls with your brain. And you…” He takes a step toward Daddy, shoving the tip of the gun into his chest. “You must think I’m pretty stupid, huh? I see the coat you’re wearing. It must have cost you a pretty penny.”
“I-it’s for my job,” he stutters. “My wife was telling the truth. I don’t have any money to give you.”
The flames narrow to slits. “The coat. Give it to me.”
Daddy’s throat bobs as he shrugs an arm out of the sleeve, so focused on the deadly man he doesn’t notice me race out from behind Mommy’s legs.
“Stop it!” I order, standing bravely in front of the bad man. The top of my head only comes up to his waist, and I have to push my chin way up to the sky in order to glare at him, but that doesn’t stop me.
“My daddy needs that coat for work!” I shout, wielding the flower in my chubby palm like a weapon. “He worked hard and saved up for it. You can’t just take it!”
“Lillith!” he breathes, his voice shaking with horror. “Get behind me, NOW!”
“No, Daddy!” I cry, swooping under his arm as he tries to drag me back by force. “He can’t just take it! You need it!”
“Please, lilly flower,” he sobs. It makes me pause. I’ve never, never, never heard my Daddy sound like that.
“I’m getting tired of this shit.” The masked man groans, holding the gun loosely in his grip as he alternates aiming it at each of us. “Eeny meeny miny mo…”
It lands on Mom, and Dad’s face crumples.
“No, please!” he chokes, stepping in front of her. “Please, don’t—”
Bang!
Warmth splatters across my face, and I wince, dropping the flower. I bend down to grab it, but something red is dripping from its pretty white petals. Drip, drip, dripping onto the concrete.
Bang! Bang!
“NO!” I scream, jerking upright. Heart hammering, I suck in a breath through my nose, trying desperately to gain my bearings. I’m in bed. I’m safe. It was just a dream.
I run my hands over the bedsheets, focusing on my breathing and the sounds of the city outside my window. Anything—anything but that horrible memory.
I’ve never made it to the end of the dream, and try as I might, I can’t remember how I made it out alive. I’ve pored over the police records and talked to medical staff and social workers who saw me that night, and their stories are all the same: one night eighteen years ago, a little girl was seen running down the side of the highway, splatters of blood on her pretty pink dress. The police picked me up and took me to the hospital, where they treated some minor cuts and bruises, and that was it. No questions asked. I have no way of knowing what really happened that night or who saved me.
I sigh bitterly and throw my legs over the side of the bed. It’s still dark out, and a quick glance at the alarm tells me I have over an hour before I need to leave for work. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to sleep, though. I’d be a fool to risk a repeat of that nightmare.
My nose scrunches in disgust as I push my dampened hair off my forehead. What I really need is a shower.
