Chapter 4

"How could we have raised such a monster?" my mother sobbed as my father pushed me into my bedroom. "All those years, pretending to be a good, diligent daughter. It was all a lie."

"Don't worry, honey," my father said, his voice a low growl. "She won't be hurting anyone this time. Britney saved us."

He slammed the door shut, and I heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. A heavy piece of furniture was dragged in front of the door, blocking it completely.

I was a prisoner in my own room.

The room was exactly as I remembered it from my first life. The window looked out over the backyard, towards the shed where I had starved to death. A wave of nausea washed over me.

I couldn't let it happen again. I wouldn't.

My mind raced. The police. I had to call the police. But they had my phone.

I looked around the room, frantic. My eyes landed on a long, metal closet rod used for hanging clothes. It was flimsy, but it might be long enough to reach the neighbor's window if I could get their attention.

I found a piece of paper and a pen. I scribbled a desperate message: "HELP. PARENTS LOCKED ME IN. NEED POLICE. - CHLOE SMITH."

I tied the note to the end of the rod with a ribbon from my hair. Carefully, I pushed open my window, the old frame groaning in protest. Mrs. Davies's window was dark. She wasn't home. But her husband might be.

I extended the pole, trying to tap it against their window pane. It was just a few inches too short.

Frustration burned in my chest. I tried again, stretching as far as I could. The rod wobbled, and the note slipped off, fluttering down into the bushes below.

"What do you think you're doing?"

My blood ran cold. My father stood in the doorway, my mother right behind him. He must have used a spare key.

He saw the open window, the closet rod in my hand. His face darkened with rage.

He stormed over and ripped the rod from my grasp.

"Trying to escape?" he snarled. "Trying to ruin Britney's big day?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He raised the metal rod and brought it down hard on my shoulder.

A sharp, blinding pain shot through me. I cried out and stumbled back, clutching my arm.

"That's for trying to betray us again," he said, his chest heaving.

Britney appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide with fake concern. "Dad, Mom, what's happening?"

"She was trying to escape, honey," my mother said, her voice shaking.

Britney looked at me, a flicker of something cruel in her eyes. "See? I told you. In the last life, she also tried to escape right before she ruined everything. You're doing the right thing. You have to be firm with her to protect our family."

Her words were like gasoline on a fire. My father' s grip on the rod tightened. He looked like he was ready to hit me again.