Chapter 5

The sound of the door opening startled Elizebeth. She turned her head away, feigning sleep. She didn't want to see him.

Floyd walked to her bedside. His presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating.

"I know you're awake, Elizebeth," he said. His voice was soft, a chilling imitation of the way he used to speak to her. "I need you to do something for me."

She was a tool. A thing to be used.

She opened her eyes but didn't look at him. "No," she whispered.

He sighed, a sound of theatrical patience. "Don't be difficult. My mother is coming to visit tomorrow. The psychic told her that my bad luck is tied to a specific project I abandoned. The first architectural model I ever designed. It was for a community center."

Elizebeth' s heart clenched. She knew that model. She had helped him build it in college. It was their project, their dream. It was stored in the attic of his family home.

"My mother believes that if I complete it, my fortune will turn around," Floyd continued. "But the original model is damaged. I need you to repair it."

"No," she said again, her voice stronger.

His tone hardened. "You will do it. Or that dog of yours... what was its name? Sunny? I hear he's staying with your mother. It would be a shame if something happened to him."

She shot up in bed, her eyes wide with terror. "You wouldn't."

Sunny was a golden retriever she had rescued. He was her only family now, besides her mother.

"I would," Floyd said, his voice flat and cruel. "And your mother... she lives in that old house by the river. Accidents happen. Fires. Floods."

He was a monster. There was no line he wouldn't cross.

"Please, Floyd," she begged, tears welling in her eyes. "Don't. Don't hurt them."

"Then fix the model," he said simply. He placed a box of broken balsa wood and tiny architectural pieces on the table beside her bed. "You have until tomorrow morning."

He turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Elizebeth stared at the box, her body shaking. He was using her love for her mother and her dog to chain her to him. She was trapped.

She remembered the nights they had spent working on that model, laughing, dreaming about the future. They were going to build things that mattered, things that helped people.

Now, that dream was just another tool for her torment.

The next morning, two guards escorted her to the Meyers' family estate. Floyd was waiting in the grand living room, a cold smile on his face. He tried to put a hand on her shoulder, a gesture of false intimacy. She flinched away.

Jaylah was there, along with her mother. Jaylah handed Elizebeth a tray with a teapot and cups.

"My mother wants some tea," Jaylah said sweetly. "Be a dear and serve her."

Elizebeth's hands trembled as she took the tray. She walked carefully towards Jaylah's mother. As she leaned forward to pour the tea, a sudden, sharp pain shot through her ankle. She stumbled, and the tray went flying. Hot tea splashed onto Jaylah' s mother's arm.

The woman shrieked. "She did it on purpose! She burned me!"

Jaylah rushed to her mother's side. "Mother, are you okay?" Then she turned on Elizebeth, her face contorted with rage, and slapped her hard across the face.

The sting of the slap brought tears to Elizebeth's eyes.

Just then, Floyd walked into the room.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"She burned my mother!" Jaylah cried, pointing at Elizebeth. "She's trying to hurt us!"

"I didn't," Elizebeth whispered, holding her cheek. "She kicked me."

Floyd strode over to her and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back. His face was a mask of fury.

"You venomous snake," he hissed. "You can't stand to see anyone else happy, can you?"

He shoved her to the floor. "I've had enough of your games."

He pulled out his phone and made a call. His voice was cold and precise.

"Take the dog. The one named Sunny. And go to the mother's house. Wait for my instructions."

He was threatening Sunny. He was threatening her mother.