Vanilla can almost smell them. The sweet candy. She takes a step closer and inhales, her mouth drooling. She can hear the thumping in Tiffany’s chest, the rhythm so wonderfully intense.

“Where?” Vanilla asks.

“Where? Oh! The lollipops. They’re in my room.”

“Your room?”

“Yeah. Like, where I live and sleep. You know, a room. With a bed and a window and a mirror to get dressed in front of.” Tiffany bites her tongue when she sees Vanilla’s face scrunch.

“And toys?”

“Toys? Sure! And toys! All the toys and lollipops you could want!”

“I had a room like that,” Vanilla responds, her expression deadpan.

Tiffany hesitates, then forces a grin and whispers, “I’ll bet you my room is better.”

Vanilla leans in and looks around the slowly brightening but empty street. She whispers back, “Is it safe?”

Tiffany’s jaw nearly drops. “Of course it’s safe . . . safer than out here. Let me show you, and if you don’t like it you can leave. But I promise I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you. How about that?”

The corners of Vanilla’s mouth crack upward.

“I’m here to protect you, my sweet.”

But he lied about ever returning.

So Vanilla follows, her feet stepping in line behind Tiffany, who she is tethered to by nothing but a weak grip that is somehow so strong, all the while thinking about the lie. Thinking about the lie and the empty promises and how the creature got into her room and her daddy wasn’t there to keep her safe. How she lost control of her body and how her daddy wasn’t there to take care of her. How she now follows a creature that claims to be pulling her toward safety and lollipops and how she is so willing to follow because this creature is the closest thing right now to her daddy. To the comfort he brings—despite the lie. And she doesn’t think she can wait for him in that room all by herself until he returns. Until death.

Tiffany walks ahead, dragging this complete stranger behind her who is only so obedient to follow because she is filled with lies. Because of the lie she is forced to participate in for the sake of her own life. A life that is only so valuable. After all, beneath our sleeves, we both have those dotted scars to show. That damn itch. But one step at a time. One step at a time because she has to entertain the man. To show that silver snake she’ll listen to his orders now, but in the end, in the end she has free will. Even if the consequence of using that will is a life.