She is quiet as she looks at me from over his shoulder, as they move down the hall.

It is a new face I see. I do not give it a name because I don’t ever want to see it again.

It is a face of terror, as though she knows she is about to lose me.

I take a breath now because the chaos seems to be over. At least for the moment. I get up and walk to the far side of the bed. Something has drawn me there. I hear no more sounds. It is quiet.

The light is different somehow, brighter and sharper.

I can see now, I can see why the light has changed.

Mick has drilled a hole in the wood.

I slide the glass panel down and touch the little hole with my finger. It’s been drilled from the outside. It is no wider than my pinky.

But it is wide enough to let in the light.

And it is wide enough for me to see outside.

I look through the hole, I can see one side of the driveway circle and realize the room must face the front of the house.

I feel relief at first that he has given me this gift of light.

But then another thought enters. A thought that fits better with the chaos that has just occurred.

Mick has drilled this hole so that I can see outside.

I don’t know what it is he wants me to see.

But I suddenly long for darkness.

Chapter Thirty-two

Day seventeen

Nic awoke, startled by her surroundings. She sat upright, her eyes slowly taking in the things that were visible in the dim morning light.

Stiff white sheets. A fluffy duvet. Blackout shades behind thick beige curtains.

She heard a quiet hum from the heating unit above the door to the bathroom.

It crept into her brain, this fog carrying information about where she was and how she’d come to be here. Hungover. Naked. Alone.

“No,” she said out loud. “This isn’t happening. I didn’t do this. Not again.”

She pulled the sheet tightly around her. There was no one to kick out of her bed. No one to hold on to.

Hand shaking now, she reached for her phone. It was nearly ten. She needed something, someone.

Her mother was gone. Her father was lying. And this new man who had made her feel so good last night—the man and the vodka, both gone now.

“Evan?” she said, her voice trembling into the phone. He was all she had left.

“Nic? What is it? What’s happened?”

His name was the only word she could get out.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“At a hotel. At that casino. The one where Mom used her credit card.”

She cried the words. Evan was confused.

“What are you doing there?”