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I’d never seen my father cry. Ever.

He closed his eyes for a long blink, then stood up straight.

He and the man exchanged a few more words that were too quiet for me to hear. And then he was gone.

The door closed with a resounding click in the quiet room, and the man walked over to where I lied here paralyzed.

He leaned down close, as if someone else might hear, and whispered. “I’m sorry you had to see that. This will all be over soon.”

He knew.

He knew I was awake.

Why didn’t he tell my dad I was awake?

I felt a sudden, sharp sting of pain. And then there was nothing but blackness.

I woke up to someone dragging me out of the backseat of a black SUV. Their fingers painfully pinched the top of my arms, already sore from where Chandler had grabbed me. My head throbbed and my vision was blurry. It took a moment for everything to come into focus. It was dark outside. Night. And cold. I was so cold. My lips trembled and my fingers felt numb. I had no idea how long I’d been out because time escaped me.

I caught a glimpse of what looked like a gothic cathedral just before being pulled inside. I blinked until my surroundings started to come into focus. And then we stopped. I was in a circular room, almost like a courtroom, but more sinister.

On a platform in the front of the room, there was a row of chairs behind a wooden table, or desk, or something. In shiny, gold letters across the front of the desk was the wordTribunal.Ten men sat on the platform, all young, most handsome.

They looked like judges on a panel, only I had no idea what they were judging.

The floor was a golden marble with a blood-red “O” formed out of a serpent in the center. The walls were the same golden color with tall white columns placed near arched openings that led to long hallways. Above us, there was a circular balcony, like the ones in theaters or opera houses.

I was lined up with nine other girls near one of the arched openings. Ten of us, all wearing white silk robes and nothing else. Down the hallway behind us, and on the walls of the circular room were stone bowls with the same flaming red glass I’d seen at the crypt in Green-Wood Cemetery.

What the hell was this place? What were we doing here?

Images of missing person flyers and unsolved mystery documentaries flashed in my mind, nearly crippling me. I wanted to run. I knew Ishouldrun. But my legs wouldn’t move.

An ice-cold chill shot up my spine, and a deep voice spoke against my neck from behind.

“Welcome to Judgment Day, sweetheart. Do you have any idea why you’re here?”

Judgment Day.So I was right.

That voice.

Kipton Donahue.

He stood with his chest pressed against my back.

I couldn’t answer his question, but I had a pretty good idea.

I’d tried touching the untouchable. I’d challenged the unchallengeable.

I threatened him and now he was fighting back.

The girl in front of me walked out into the room, smiling and posing as if she were on a runway, like she washappyto be here. Like she’dchosento be here.

What the fuck was going on? Was I the only one here against my will?

If I was brought here to be punished for a crime, I wished they’d just get it over with.

“My dad will find me. My friends will find me,” I told Kipton through gritted teeth.

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