“This started before yesterday, and you know it! You should’ve been watching her!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Haven started to slip away, but before sleep took her, the man spoke once more. “I’ll give you what you want for her, but I’m not happy about this. At all.”

* * *

Haven awoke later, still on the concrete floor. Every inch of her ached, and she grimaced as she struggled to sit up. A throat cleared nearby, the stranger once again standing in the basement with her. “How do you feel?”

She wrapped her arms protectively around herself as he moved toward her. “Okay.”

His voice was calm but firm. “The truth.”

“Sore,” she reluctantly admitted. “My head hurts.”

“I’m not surprised.” He knelt down and reached toward her, the movement making her flinch. “I’m not going to hit you, child.”

He felt her forehead and grasped her chin, surveying her face. “Do you know who I am?” She shook her head, although something about him struck her as familiar. She thought she might’ve seen him from a distance before, one of the visitors she’d been kept away from throughout the years. “I’m Dr. Vincent DeMarco.”

“Doctor?” They’d never gotten medical attention before, even for the severest of problems.

“Yes, I’m a doctor,” he said, “but I’m also an associate of the Antonellis. I arrived after you went missing. You suffered a minor concussion, and you’re dehydrated, but there’s no permanent damage that I can see. You’re lucky you were found. You could’ve died out there.”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Haven’s stomach, a small part of her wishing she would have. It had to be better than being killed at the hands of a monster.

Dr. DeMarco looked at his watch. “Do you think you can walk? We should leave soon.”

“We?”

“Yes, you’re going to be staying with me now.”

She shook her head, cringing as her pain intensified. “I can’t leave my mama. She needs me!”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you ran away.”

She tried to explain, her words sluggish. “They were going to kill me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, child,” he said. “In fact, you have one right now.”

“You’re giving me a choice?”

“Of course I am. You can come with me.”

“Or?”

He shrugged. “Or you stay here, and I’ll leave without you. But before you decide, tell me something. You ran away because you thought they were going to kill you. What do you think they’ll do to you now?”

She stared at her dirt-caked feet. “So I either go with you or I die? What kind of choice is that?”

“One I suppose you won’t like making,” he said, “but it is a choice, nonetheless.”

Tense silence brewed between them. Haven didn’t like this manipulating man. “What do you want me for?”

She was used to being punished for speaking out of turn, but she had nothing to lose. What would he do, kill her?

“I never said I wanted you, but I’m a busy man. I can use someone to cook and clean.”

“You can’t pay someone?” She regretted the question immediately and backtracked. “At least it would be legal. I think this is illegal. Isn’t it?”

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure.

“I suppose it technically is, but—”

Before he could finish, shouts rang out above them in the house. Haven flinched at the loud thump and startled cry, tears stinging her eyes when she realized Michael was hurting her mama.

Dr. DeMarco sighed. “Look, I’m not going to wait around all night waiting for you. If you don’t want my help, so be it. Stay here and die.”

The man stood to leave. Haven climbed to her feet, muttering, “Why me?” She wanted to believe there was a point to it all, but she wasn’t sure anymore.

He gave a slight shake of the head. “I wish I knew.”

* * *

The soles of Haven’s feet burned as Dr. DeMarco led her out of the basement. “I’m not chasing you if you run,” he said, laughing bitterly when her panicked eyes darted to his gun. “I’m not going to shoot you, either.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll shoot your mother instead.”

She gasped as he let go of her arm. “Please don’t hurt her!”

“Stay where you are and I won’t have to,” he said, walking away.

Although her legs were weak and she felt dizzy, Haven refused to move an inch as he disappeared inside the house. The sky glowed bright orange as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting distorted shadows along the ground in front of her. She didn’t know what day it was, had no clue how much time had passed. She scanned what she could see of the property, searching for some sign of her mama. She wanted to call out to her, to find her. She wanted to ask what she was supposed to do.

But her mama never appeared. The sun disappeared, and out of the darkness came Dr. DeMarco again. He didn’t look at her as he opened a door to a black car. “Time to go.”

Timidly, Haven slid into the rigid passenger seat and peered around as he slammed the door. The harsh stench of fresh leather in the confined space made her feel like a weight was pressing on her chest. She had trouble breathing, struggling to stay calm when he climbed in beside her. Dr. DeMarco frowned as he reached into the backseat for his bag. He pulled out another needle and stuck her without a word.

Blackness came again.

* * *

The small road cut through the dense forest, the painted lines so faded it appeared made for one car. A new highway diverted traffic from the area, so the only people who navigated there were locals and those who lost their way. Haven lay slumped over in the passenger seat of a car, woozy as she watched the trees whipping past in the darkness. She turned from the window, fighting sickness. Her eyes found the clock on the dashboard, the numbers glowing a quarter after twelve.

She’d been out for hours.

“I didn’t mean to sedate you for so long,” Dr. DeMarco said, noticing her movement. “You slept the entire flight.”

“In an airplane?” He nodded. It was her first time even being near a plane. She wasn’t sure whether to be glad it was over or disappointed she’d missed it. “Where are we now?”

“Almost home.”

Home. Haven didn’t know what that meant.

“Before we get there, I want to make something clear,” Dr. DeMarco said. “You’re going to have some normalcy living with us, but don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I expect your loyalty, and if you betray my trust in any way, there will be consequences. As long as you remember that, we won’t have any problems.” He paused. “I want you to be comfortable with us, though, so you can speak freely as long as you’re respectful.”

“I’d never disrespect you, sir.”

“Never say never. Sometimes we don’t realize when we’re being disrespectful.” Haven wondered what he meant by that, but he didn’t explain. “Do you have any questions?”

“You said ‘us.’ Do you have a family?”

“I do. I have two sons, ages seventeen and eighteen.”

“Oh.” She was on the verge of panicking. She hadn’t been around many people her age and had never had any contact with teenage boys. Studying him, she noticed the plain gold band gleaming under the moonlight on his left hand. Married. “And your wife, sir? Their mama?”

The moment the question came from her lips, Dr. DeMarco’s demeanor shifted. His posture stiffened and his jaw clenched as he stared straight ahead, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned as white as bone, conversation ceasing.

So much for speaking freely.

The car turned off the pavement and drove down a bumpy path that cut through the dense trees. They came to a clearing, and Haven gaped at the house that came into sight. The old plantation home stood three stories high, with columns spanning the height of the structure. The white paint was faded, tinting the exterior a dull gray. A large porch wrapped around the first floor, with smaller ones running the lengths of the second and third.

Dr. DeMarco parked between a smaller black car and a silver one, and Haven stepped out cautiously, taking in her surroundings. All she could see in the darkness beyond were trees, while a porch light made the gravel faintly visible beneath her feet. Dr. DeMarco grabbed his luggage before heading toward the front door, and she limped behind with empty hands, having nothing of her own to carry. She’d never had much, all of her clothes ragged hand-me-downs that she’d left behind without a choice.

After stepping onto the porch, Dr. DeMarco pressed his finger to a small panel on a rectangular keypad. It beeped before he opened the door. Haven stepped into the house, pausing as he closed the door and punched something into an identical keypad on the inside.

A green light flashed as a lock clicked into place, the door automatically securing itself. “It’s wired into a computer network,” Dr. DeMarco explained. “The house is impenetrable, the glass bulletproof and windows nailed shut. You need a code or fingerprint authorization to get in or out.”

“What happens if there’s a power failure, sir?”

“It’s on a backup generator.”

“And if the generator doesn’t work?”

“Then I suppose you’ll stay locked inside until power’s restored.”

“Will I have a code?”

“Maybe someday, when I feel I can trust you with one,” he said. “After what you pulled in Blackburn, I’m sure you can understand my position. I’m a lot closer to civilization than they were.”

She couldn’t understand his position, refused to try. “What happens if there’s an emergency?”

“There are ways around the system, but I don’t foresee any situations that require you to know those tricks.”

“But what if there’s a fire and I need to get out?”

Dr. DeMarco gazed at her. “You’re a crafty one, aren’t you?” Before she could respond, he turned away. “I’ll show you around.”

Straight in front of them was the family room, with several couches and a television on one of the walls. A fireplace was tucked in the back beside a piano, the wooden floor shining from the glow of the moon streaming through the large windows. To the left was a kitchen filled with stainless-steel appliances, an island in the center with pots and pans hanging above it. The dining room behind that had the longest table Haven had ever seen, big enough to accommodate fourteen. She wondered how often all those seats were taken, unable to imagine cooking for that many people. To the right were a bathroom and a laundry room, as well as an office tucked underneath the staircase.

The second floor belonged to Dr. DeMarco—a bedroom and a bathroom, along with another office and a spare room. Some of the doors had keypads beside them, a sign Haven wouldn’t be going into those rooms.