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Bonnie crept down the hall. Sherecognizedthis place now. There were roses on the wallpaper. She’d always loved those roses. She’d traced them once, kept that drawing framed in her room for years.
Bonnie knew exactly where he had brought her. The sick irony wasn’t lost on her at all.
It had been the carriage house once. Servants had lived there during her great-grandfather's lifetime. Her father had had it turned into a small hospice facility when she had been an infant. Had built the garage attached, with even more rooms over the top of that. He’d housed the hospital’s two ambulances there.
She had played here, after the patients had left.
After her mother's death.
This? This was the back hall.
There would be what was once a laundry room nearby. There was a door there.
She just had to get there.
Smoke caused her throat to tighten. Bonnie refused to let herself acknowledge that the bruises on her neck were from that monster's hands as he'd held her down, choking her, screaming at her for Denita's sins.
She wouldn’t focus on what he haddoneto her right now. She would focus on whatshehad to doto get back to her girls.
To find Crispin.
Her baby needed her.
Bonnie would never just give up when one of her girls needed her.
Ever.
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One brown eye,one blue.
Sydney just stared. This girl had heterochromia. Something this girl had most likely been born with. Something Pen had not. But otherwise…
"She did it twice, didn't she? And for some reason, the evil old pig took you, too. You're almost nineteen, aren’t you? Birthday January 16th?"
"Seventeenth. January 17th." The girl just stared at her. "How do you know me?”
"I don't think we have a whole lot of time to explain and catch you up. Was a woman named Denise Daviess your mom?" She had to be. No denying it.
They'd had some leads a few years ago about a second set of identical twins out there somewhere. But no one had been able to find them or reconcile them with known dates at the time. They’d discounted the leads as false after a while.
Well, apparently, they had been wrong. Way, way wrong.
"No. My first mother is Denita Coleson. She left me with her younger sister Bonnie when I was three days old. Or four. I don’t really know my exact birthday or anything. Bonnie is mymom. Forever. No matter what that pig said.”
Denita Coleson equaled Dee Davis equaled Denise Daviess, Sydney would bet all of Houghton's billions on that.
Sydney didn't have time to catch Pen 2.0 up right now.
They had to find Pen 1.0 and get the hell out of there.
"Ok, fast draft version here. You are definitely an identical twin. That baby, my bestie Penelope—we call her Pen, was left with social services when she was a day old. By that woman we shall not name. Pen was with me when those assholes took us and brought us here. She's here somewhere and I am going to find her.”
This sounded like a badly written thriller movie. Even Slater and his brothers wouldn't star in something this bad.
She wasn't leaving without Pen's twin sister. It just wasn't happening. The girl stared at her. Dressed like Pen liked to dress but…she didn’t have on any shoes. For some reason that stuck out. Socks, but no shoes.
She looked so damned young.
