There’s nowhere to go.
I’m trapped in this room. Dane stands between me and the only exit, and I have no weapon.
“No, I didn’t,” he says, shaking his head like he’s shocked at the accusation.
“How do you know that name, Dane?” My voice rises, panic and fury bubbling under my skin, begging to be unleashed.
“Lennox, I don’t know what you think you heard, but I didn’t call you another name.”
“You did!” I scream. The panic is taking over, along with rising uncertainty. I question myself, doubting my own senses and memory as I play back the last few moments in my head.
But no.
I’mnotwrong.
I know what I heard.
I know what he said.
And I know he’s a liar.
“Don’t lie to me again, Dane. Why did you call me Lyla?”
Stepping back from the bed, he crosses his arms over his chest. His jaw hardens and his gaze intensifies as he glares down at me, irritation touching his voice. “Lennox, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of or why, but you need to get past it. Let’s just go to sleep.”
He moves toward the bed again, but I stop him.
“No!” I scream, throwing an arm out in front of me. It’s enough to startle him, causing him to halt where he stands.
My entire plan unravels before me; everything I worked to fix is disappearing into thin air. My chances of helping even some Castaways get home are dwindling, all because of this man.
This man with the key to our return hanging from his belt.
Who tried to kill the man I love.
Who is trying to convince me I didn’t hear what he said correctly.
This man who called me my mother’s name.
“Stop lying to me, Dane. I know you’re lying.” My voice trembles as I stare him down, waiting to see if he’ll lie again.
But he says nothing. The corners of his lips turn up into a smug smirk, and my stomach drops.
“How do you know who I am?” I whisper.
I’ve kept my identity hidden from everyone on this island. Weston knew, and told Sig, but Dane shouldn’t have. The only way he would know that name meant something to me, is if he knows who I am, and lied to try to hide his mistake.
“I knew the second I saw you walk into that library who you were. There was no mistaking you were her daughter.”
Nausea churns in my stomach, and I feel acid burning in the back of my throat. Dane knew who I was this entire time. But how? Why?
Why did he never say anything?
“You lied to me,” I grind out, my panic and fear subsiding, replaced with white hot anger. I’m not afraid anymore, not of hiding anything from him. That part of the plan is long over. “You lied about everything.”
“Not everything,” he says. “Youareexactly what I’ve been waiting for.”
“Why?” I snap. “What do you want with me?”
