Cassidy
I woke to darkness.
Not the natural kind—the soft kind that comes before dawn.
This darkness was heavy.
Thick.
Wrong.
My head throbbed, a deep, pulsing ache behind my ear. When I tried to lift my arm, something bit into my wrist. Rope. Tight. The same around my ankles. My legs could barely move.
I sucked in a breath.
The scent hit me immediately—damp wood, metal, dust, and something sharp, like rusting iron.
Not the estate.
Not anywhere safe.
My pulse slammed against my ribs.
"Hello?" My voice cracked. "Is someone there?"
Silence pressed against me.
I twisted my hands again—ropes, binding me in front. My ankles bound together. I shifted on the cold floor, trying to feel for a wall or door.
"Please—" My voice broke. "Someone… anyone—help!"
A sound drifted from the far end of the room. Footsteps. Slow. Almost casual.
I held my breath.
The footsteps moved closer… closer…
