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It’s then that I notice the bruising around her neck and cheeks. My hands fly to my mouth and I will myself to not break down in front of her. I’ve had it so easy in comparison, and the guilt hits me immediately.
“I’m so sorry, Stacey.” The words come out as a cry.
Her hand comes up to halt my apologies, and she shakes her head, signaling for me to stop talking.
“I need to forget just for a few minutes.”
The request is not too much to ask, but I have a hard time ignoring what’s right in front of me. The truth of the matter is, we both are prisoners in our respective houses. Only, one of us is in dire danger. I don’t say anything. I’ll allow her to lead this.
“This place is... nice.” Her voice is hollow.
I purse my lips while widening my eyes.
“All things considered, I’d take this place any day.”
I instantly regret my complaining. She’s right. This place is heaven compared to where she’s come from. Julian has gone out of his way to make me comfortable; meanwhile she’s being tortured.
“Can we please pretend we are two normal girls having a normal day?” I beg. “It might be denial, but I need that, and I think you do too.”
She nods.
We sit and talk about our past lives as if we’re still living them. The fantasy of normal life feels good, if only for a short time. It’s as if I’m chatting with an old friend. I haven’t been this relaxed since before Maggie died.
“So, wait, you’re telling me that Andrea was the Tomato Queen? That’s a thing where you’re from?” Stacey asks, bemused.
“It’s definitely a thing. Every township in the area has a contestant, and she won it all.”
That was a great day. Shannon, Jill, Maggie, and I were so proud of our friend. She was radiant in her evening gown and smoking hot in her one-piece bathing suit. Guys never missed Andrea when she walked into a room. And I got it after that night, seeing her shine. She is beautiful.
Talking about the Tomato Pageant makes me think about the county fair, since that’s where it was held. It was the one thing I looked forward to each summer. It allowed me seven whole days of avoiding my parents. From the animal barns to the dozens of vendors, I could spend all day every day with my friends, having fun and being normal.
“I was with them the night I was taken,” I tell Stacey. “I left early because I felt so out of place.”
“Why?” she asks.
“They’ve had normal childhoods. They’ve experienced college. I haven’t. It was that night that I realized how different we were. How different I was.”
She frowns, looking sad, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I walked home. I tried to hide in a cornfield, but they found me.”
Going down this road isn’t easy for me, but at the same time, it might be therapeutic for both of us.
Stacey takes a deep breath. “I was at the mall, shopping for a gift for my mom’s birthday. It was dark out by the time I left. When I got to my car, I was unlocking my door and I heard the door to the van next to me slide open, but I didn’t even have time to turn around before someone pulled me into the back.”
“Did you have the feeling like someone was following you? Or do you think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
I’m curious to see if she has a similar story to Maggie’s and mine. We’ve been followed—more like stalked—our entire lives. Could she have endured what we did all these years?
“No. It was a case of parking too far out and next to the wrong psycho.”
I huff. “Psycho is a good word for the beasts at the auction.”
She smacks her lips together, nodding all the while.
“Julian said that it’s not random. He says that we were likely watched for some time.”
She chews on her cheek. “It’s possible. I was so into myself I probably wouldn’t have even noticed,” she admits.
