Chapter 4

Another day bled into night, then into a new, terrifying dawn.

The wound on my arm was crusted and raw, but it still oozed. I was lightheaded, shivering uncontrollably despite the stuffy air in the cabin.

Thirst was a burning agony in my throat. My lips were cracked and dry.

Outside, I heard a new sound. Snuffling, growling.

Wild dogs. Drawn by the scent of blood.

My heart leaped into my throat.

They were circling the cabin. Scratching at the door.

Suddenly, the sound of an engine. A vehicle approaching.

Hope surged, fierce and desperate.

The cabin door creaked open.

Not Mike. A younger man, unfamiliar. He looked pale, nervous.

"Mr. Davis sent me to... check on you," he stammered, avoiding my eyes. It was Jake, Mike's personal assistant.

"Help... me..." I rasped, my voice barely audible.

He pulled out his phone, his hand shaking. "Mr. Davis, sir? Yeah, I'm here. She's... uh... she doesn't look good."

He turned the phone so I could hear Mike's voice, tinny and distant.

"Doesn't look good? What, is she putting on a show for you now, Jake? Tell her to cut the crap."

"Sir, there are... dogs outside. And she's... there's a lot of blood."

Sophia's voice again, syrupy sweet. "Oh, Mikey, she's probably just trying to scare Jake. She always loved horror movies."

"Tell her if she doesn't straighten up and stop this nonsense, I'll have you hang her from a tree out there!" Mike roared. "Maybe that'll teach her to stop being so damn dramatic and trying to ruin Sophia's chances!"

Hang me from a tree.

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Jake flinched, his face even whiter. "Sir, I... I don't think..."

"Just do what you need to do to make her understand this isn't a game!" Mike barked. "Sophia's got her big interview for the early admissions program tomorrow. I don't need Emily's theatrics causing problems."

The call ended.

Jake stared at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and pity.

He took a hesitant step towards me, then stopped.

He looked at the ropes, at the blood, at the door where the dogs were now whining and scratching more insistently.

He looked like he was going to be sick.

Then, a new sound. The distinct rumble of our parents' SUV. They were back early from their Europe trip.

Jake's eyes widened in panic.

Mike's phone rang in Jake's hand. It was probably our parents, wondering where Mike was.

A sudden, frantic energy filled Jake. He turned and fled, scrambling back to his car and speeding away, leaving the cabin door slightly ajar.

Leaving me to the dogs.

And to whatever Mike would do when he realized our parents were home.

The thought of Mike's panic, his impending discovery, was a small, cold comfort.

But the growling outside was getting louder.