“No!” I said. “If I come back, you’re going to keep me drugged twenty-four hours a day.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “What on earth would make you think that? The pills I give you are medicinal. They’re to treat your illness, Margot. Your brain problems.”

“I don’t have brain problems. You poisoned me,” I said. “You’re poisoning Agatha. And you killed your own sister—”

I was saying these things as loudly and clearly as I could, hoping that if some random person was listening, they would be alarmed enough to send the police.

Of course, they’d also have to know who and where I was.

Oh, great. I’m going to die.

“Stay back,” I called. “Stay back or I’ll scream.”

She shrugged. “No one can hear you scream out here. But you’re being silly. No one is trying to hurt you. You know, I’ve always thought that you were such a nice girl. Cooperative. Thoughtful. Why would you start behaving this way after everything our family has done for you?”

“Because you’re sick,” I said.

Her face darkened. “That’s uncalled-for.”

I had no chances left. And my hope was flagging.

As Laura approached, cutting through the flowers like an ice-breaking ship crushing everything in its path, I felt my courage begin to drain away.

“We can do this the easy way,” she said, “or the hard way.”

I stared at her. I was still so tired. Still felt so fuzzy.

“Be a good girl. Come back inside, and we’ll start over. No hard feelings. Now that I know you have a rebellious streak, I can help you with that.” She stared at me. “I can help you be a better person. Raise you properly.”

There was no hope left.

“I’ve told you before, Margot,” she said. “I’m really quite fond of you. So come back. Don’t fight. If you try to fight, I’m going to have to come to the conclusion that you might be more trouble than you’re worth.”

I shook my head.

“Your parents did a terrible job,” she said. “Teaching you how to be a respectful child.”

That ignited a little flame of anger in me. The will to fight, which had been gone, flared back.

But I still wasn’t strong enough. Laura came over and pushed me back against the wall. I cast a desperate glance down toward the phone, and she noticed.

She reached into my pocket, pulled out the phone, said into the mouthpiece, “I’m sorry, this was a prank call,” and then tossed it into the pond.

I could feel my strength flagging. My legs were on the verge of collapsing out from under me.

Her expression had changed. Until now, I’d actually believed that she wanted, in some twisted way, to “help” me.

“I’m terribly disappointed.” She stepped closer. “We have one rule, Margot—what is it?”