Chapter 1

Thirteen years after I was taken, the police finally brought me home.

At the reunion, my mother threw her arms around me and sobbed, "Oh, sweetheart, I've been looking everywhere for you."

My father stood a few steps away, and his eyes were rimmed red.

The officer turned to me and asked, "Do you remember anything from that day? Could you identify anyone who helped?"

I locked eyes with my father and spoke slowly. "I remember. Someone picked me up and put me in a car, and there was a man standing right next to us, smoking a cigarette."

The color drained from my father's face.

My mother went still, and her voice shook. "What are you saying?"

I pointed straight at my father. "So, Dad, did you ever finish that cigarette?"

*****

I had been kept in a lightless hole for thirteen years.

From six to nineteen, my entire life consisted of beatings, hunger, and endless darkness.

Two weeks ago, a criminal task force raid finally pulled me out of that hell.

Today was the day I would meet my real family.

The conference room door swung open, and a middle-aged woman rushed toward me like she had lost her mind.

She threw her arms around me, and her whole body trembled like a leaf in the wind. "Lily. My Lily. Mommy finally found you!"

Her tears were scalding, and they fell one by one onto my neck.

I stood there stiff and gave no response.

Lily felt so distant and foreign to me.

My name was Lauren Warren.

Years ago, I had been Lily Warren.

The woman sobbed until she could barely breathe, and a female officer in uniform stood beside her, gently patting her back to calm her down.

A man stood a few feet away with red-rimmed eyes and trembling lips, staring at me.

He wore a suit that didn't quite fit, and his hair was combed neatly, but nothing could hide the gray at his temples.

He was my father, Edward Warren.

The woman crying in my arms was my mother, Helen.

The officer in charge, Patrick Johnson, walked over and spoke in a gentle voice. "Lauren, there's no rush. Take your time."

He turned to Edward and Helen. "I know this is overwhelming, but she just got back. She's gonna need some time to adjust."

Helen finally loosened her hold on me, but her hands still clung to my arms as if I would vanish the moment she let go.

She looked me up and down, and the pain in her eyes was almost too much to contain.

"You're so thin. Way too thin." Her voice cracked. "How much have you suffered all these years, sweetheart?" She was on the verge of tears again.

Edward walked over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, come on. Don't cry. Our girl is home, and that's all that matters."

His voice was hoarse and thick with emotion.

He looked at me, and his expression was hard to read. There was pain, guilt, and something else I couldn't quite place.

He said, "Lily, you're home now. Mom and Dad will never let anyone hurt you again."

I watched them, these two people who were my parents in name, and I saw the genuine anguish and joy of reunion written across their faces.

But I felt nothing. My heart was a frozen wasteland.

Patrick studied my expression and chose his moment carefully. "Lauren, we know this might seem cruel to bring up right now, but time is critical and we need your help."

He asked, "How much do you remember about the day you were taken thirteen years ago?"

Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto me.

Helen had stopped breathing.

Edward's hand on her shoulder tightened without him realizing it.

I raised my eyes, looked past everyone in the room, and let my gaze land squarely on Edward's face. "I remember."

My voice was steady, as if I were recounting something that had happened to someone else. "That afternoon, I was playing marbles near the alley. A man walked up to me and said he'd take me to find my mom."

"I wouldn't go with him, so he covered my mouth and picked me up. I kicked and fought, but he was too strong and I couldn't break free. He shoved me into a white van."

The conference room fell into dead silence. The only sound was Helen's muffled sobbing, as though she had been dragged back to that hopeless afternoon all over again.

Patrick handed me a glass of water and nodded for me to go on. "Do you remember what the man looked like? Or did you see anyone else there?"

His question was a key that unlocked thirteen years of sealed memories, and with them, the gates of hell.

I didn't touch the water. My eyes stayed locked on Edward's face.

His face had gone pale, and he wouldn't look me in the eye.

I said, "I can't remember what the man who carried me into the van looked like anymore."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Helen's eyes.

Edward let out a breath so quiet I almost missed it.

"But." I let the word hang in the air. "I remember there was someone else there that night."

Patrick's eyes sharpened in an instant. He asked, "Who was it? Did you get a good look?"

I nodded and said, "I saw him clearly. I know the man. He didn't take part in it, and he didn't try to stop them either.

"He just stood there, less than twenty feet from the van, watching as they dragged me away. He watched me fight them. He watched the door slam shut."

Helen seized my hand, her voice cracking with urgency. She said, "Lily, who was it? Tell Mom. Who could be that cruel?"

Edward's breathing grew ragged. A fine sheen of sweat gathered along his temples.

Patrick exchanged a grim look with the officer beside him. He said, "Lauren, this is a critical lead. Can you identify the accomplice?"

Accomplice. What a fitting word.

I studied Edward's face, slightly contorted by the strain, and let the corner of my mouth lift.

It was the first time I'd smiled all day. There was no warmth in it.

I raised my hand, slow and deliberate, and pointed at the man who had given me life and raised me, the same man who had thrown me into hell with his own two hands.

I said, "That's him. He's the one."

In that instant, the entire world seemed to stop moving.