"You taught me to kill."
"And I will find you."
"I will always find you."
No answer.
There was never an answer.
But for the first time in weeks, I didn't need one.
I had the basement.
I had the tunnels.
I had Matt.
And I had a shadow.
Someone to follow.
Someone to hunt.
Someone to ask about Gabriel.
The cigarette butt was still warm in my hand.
I dropped it in the trash and walked back to the back room, where Mr. Hoppy was waiting on the pillow, and the blanket was folded at the foot of the couch, and the dresses were hanging in the closet, and the bows were arranged on the shelf.
This was my life now.
Not the life I'd wanted.
Not the life I'd expected.
But it was mine.
And I would use it.
To hunt.
To kill.
To find my way back to the man who'd made me.
"Daddy."
The whisper was barely a breath.
"Daddy, I'm coming."
"Wait for me."
"Please."
"Wait for me."
No answer.
