Chapter 1

I stared at the SAT practice book, the words blurring. Valedictorian, scholarships, Ivy League, that was my mantra, my only way out of this blue-collar town. My parents worked hard, but "enough" was always just out of reach.

Bree Van Doren, my best friend, or so I thought, sat across from me at the library table. She chewed her pen, her brow furrowed.

"You make it look so easy, Sarah," she sighed.

I knew her family's hardware store chain, Van Doren Hardware & Supplies, was tanking. Her dad, Arthur, was stressed, and her mom, Carol, who did the books, looked perpetually worried. Bree' s success felt like a lifeline for them, but she just couldn't match my scores.

"It's just practice, Bree," I said, trying to be encouraging.

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, then brightened. "Hey, I have an idea, a study retreat, just us. My family has this old cabin up in the Adirondacks, super quiet, no distractions."

It sounded perfect. My grandparents, Eli and Agnes Miller, lived deep in the Adirondacks, a world away. Grandpa Eli was a retired State Forest Ranger, a legend up there, tough as nails. Grandma Agnes, she ran their little corner of the county with an iron will and a network of folks who respected, and maybe feared, her a little. They had grandsons, like my cousin Jake, but I was their only granddaughter, though they kept that quiet around my town to give me a normal life.

The drive was long, hours deeper into the mountains than I'd ever been. The "cabin" was more of a shack, but Bree was all smiles.

"Here," she said, handing me a bottle of water after we hauled our bags inside. "You must be thirsty."

I drank it down. The last thing I remembered was Bree' s smile looking a little too wide.

I woke up on a dirt floor, my head pounding. The air stank of mildew and something else, something sour. This wasn't Bree's family cabin. Panic clawed at my throat.

A rough-looking woman with stringy hair peered down at me. "She's awake, Pa."

A hulking man, "Pa" Peterson, grunted. His son, Cletus, a grimy young man with vacant eyes, leered from the doorway.

"Where's Bree?" I croaked, my voice raw.

The woman, Ma Peterson, cackled. "Your friend? She ain't here."

"What do you mean? Where am I?" My heart hammered.

Cletus stepped closer. "You're with us now, pretty thing."

Bree appeared in the doorway then, her face cold, unfamiliar.

"Bree! What's going on?" I tried to sit up, but my head spun.

"You were getting in my way, Sarah," she said, her voice flat. "All your perfect scores, your scholarships. My dad needed money. You're going to keep Cletus company."

My blood ran cold. "What did you do?"

"Sold you," Bree said, shrugging. "Got a few hundred bucks and that beat-up snowmobile out back. Good deal, I think."

She looked at Cletus. "She's all yours."

The world tilted. Sold. For a snowmobile. My mind screamed, a silent, desperate NO. This couldn't be happening. My future, my Ivy League dreams, they were all turning to ash. I had to get out.