Pain means she’s real.
I turn my head just enough to see her face.
All the color has drained from it.
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
Russ whispers, “Hannah?”
She shakes her head once.
Tiny.
Terrified.
“I know that voice.”
My stomach drops.
Ahead, the red glow brightens.
The voice returns, softer now.
Almost fond.
“Hello, Hannah. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”
My grip tightens around my weapon.
Every instinct inside me rises.
Protect.
Destroy.
Survive.
Then the voice says the words that turn Hannah’s terror into something far worse.
“After all… you belonged to us long before you ever belonged to him.”
27
Hannah
No.
No no no.
The voice echoes through the tunnel, smooth and calm, and every drop of blood drains from my body so fast I nearly lose my footing.
Because I know it.
Not just recognize it.
Know it.
Like a nightmare I buried somewhere deep inside myself just clawed its way back to the surface.
