But my kidneys will probably shut down first. Lack of water will cause my blood volume to decline and all my organs will start to fail. My mouth will dry out and become caked, my lips parched and cracked. My eyes will recede into their sockets. The lining of my nose will start to bleed. Mucus will thicken in my lungs, causing respiratory failure. My temperature will rise. I’ll have convulsions.

Death will be a relief.

I look at my left wrist, shackled to the pipe. I know exactly where to slice it open: given my expert anatomical knowledge, I can target the arteries precisely and the pain will be minimal. I will bleed out within fifteen minutes.

Tom isn’t going to save me. When my car and phone are discovered near Alexander Manor in a day or two from now, and the police start investigating, he’ll finally learn the truth about Gracie. He’ll wonder what else I’ve hidden from him. Perhaps he’ll believe I might have decided to ‘take care’ of Peter and then myself, as Stacey intends. Even if he doesn’t, even if he comes here, to the Glass House, he’ll never find me, not in time. I know every inch of this house and I had no idea this cellar was here.

I don’t know if Stacey was telling the truth, and my son is truly trapped inside the freezer, or if it’s another of her sick mind games. But if he is inside it, and if he’s still alive, it won’t be for long.

Stacey’s given me a simple binary choice between a long, protracted death or a savage, swift one. But I have a third option.

An unthinkable one.

It might not work. Even if it does, there’s no guarantee I’ll make it out of this cellar alive. I don’t think Stacey’s bolted the door to the root cellar door, but if she has, I won’t have a hope. And if by some miracle I do survive and get out of here, the life I knew will be gone forever. The person I am now will be gone. My life will be destroyed. I’ll survive, but I won’t be living.

It’s not hyperbole to say I’d be better off dead.

But it’s not just my life at stake.

I pick up the knife.

chapter 64

millie