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Prologue

Enzo

Past

“Momma!” My body shakes with every breath. I can’t find her even though I heard her scream. I have never heard my mother scream like that before.

I run through the house I’ve lived in my whole life and feel disoriented, like I’m in some kind of alternate universe. Everything feels wrong.

My stomach is twisted in knots as fear courses through me. Maybe the maid just snuck up on her?

I circle down the stairs and down the hall to her room. I am just outside her door when I hear her scream again.

“Just take me! Leave my son alone!” She cries out.

I want to run to her, to hold and protect her. Something was holding me in place, though. Something told me to be quiet and stay put. I know if whoever has my momma saw me, they’d take me.

Where are the guards? Why are they not saving her?

“We don’t want you. We came here for the boy, and that’s who we are leaving with.”

What do they want with me? I’m only a ten-year-old kid.

“You are useless to us now,” another man says as if he is disgusted with my mom’s offer. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I continue to listen to her pleas.

“The boy is ours,” the first man says.

Then I hear it, the last plea leaving my mother’s lips, her last cry, begging for my life.

Bang.

I flinch and stumble backward. Both of my hands come up to cover my mouth to keep from screaming. A gun had gone off, the sound echoing through the house and reverberating through me.

One shot that will forever change my life by taking away the only person I loved, the only person who loved me.

“Remove her body from the house. I don’t want the boy to find it.”

At the man’s words, I feel like my heart stops beating in my chest. My mother. My beautiful, kind, and loving mother.

Why had these people killed her?

For a moment, I was frozen, unable to move my body. It was as if my limbs were petrified. Maybe I was in shock.

Only when I heard men approaching did my survival instinct kick in. My mother died protecting me. I will not let her death be in vain.

I turn on my heels as the man’s voice comes closer to the door. Everything in me screams the need to run, to hide. I can’t let them see me, and I didn’t want to see them.

I run up the stairs to my room as fast as I can, where I shut the door and lock it. I know it will do no good against their guns, but I had to try. Whoever they are, they are bad men.

Not even a minute later, the door handle shakes. My body quakes in fear as I take as many steps away from it as I can.

I can hear the wood splintering against the weight of whoever is on the other side. Looking around the room, I can’t think of a place to hide.

Then my eyes land on the closet. I scurry across the floor, my socks causing me to slide and fall. I just manage to close the closet door when the door to my room comes crashing down. Fear is rooted deep within my body, making it impossible for me to move.

The small crack in the closed door lets me see a sliver of the room.

Two men, covered in black from head to toe, walk into my room. Their bodies are bigger than anyone I have ever seen. I want to be strong like my father always told me to be, but I don’t know how. I don’t want them to find me.

“Where is he?” one man says in frustration as he whips the mattress from my bed. I watch as they rip my room to shreds. As they come closer to the door, I push further back into the closet until I come to the wall.

I had to figure something out—my life depends on it. I feel along the wall to see if there are any hidden passages. I remember all the times my mother and I played hide and seek. I was always trying to find the best hiding spots. My momma always pretended she couldn’t find me.

Then I remembered—the secret hiding spot.

Running my fingers over the wall, I search frantically over the wood paneling until I find the little latch that lets me open the door.

Pulling on it quietly, I crawl into the space. It is a very small area, but I manage to sit down. The men’s footsteps grow closer with every passing second, and my heart is beating so fast I can feel it racing inside my chest.

Slowly, I close the door, locking myself inside the hiding spot quietly. I know if I make a mistake, I’ll be found.



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