“Dear Dawn…” I read out loud. “Thank you for letting us know you wouldn’t be joining us for the summer internship. Though your message was brief and received only three days before you were due to start, I’ll assume this must have been a hard decision for you to make. Fortunately, we have a long waiting list for this incredibly prestigious internship, and I’ve already filled your spot. Best of luck with your future endeavors. Dr. Olivia Glendaver.”

I dropped my gaze to the original message below her polite but obviously-pissed-off reply. It simply read, “I changed my mind about taking the internship. Replace me with someone else.”

“Oh my God, this message is so rude!” I looked up at Victor in complete disbelief. “I can’t believe you got someone to hack into my account to send it. Why would you do this?”

Victor’s eyes glittered, ferocious and cold as he answered, “I am your owner now. And I don’t have any desire to see you live out your father’s dream. You will stay here in Rhode Island in the place I’ve set up for you with monthly money.”

I could only assume “monthly money” meant some kind of stipend or allowance.

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Waiting,” he replied. “For your owner to return.”

Strangely that answer made me even more furious than the email he’d sent. “I don’t want to sit around doing nothing!”

A hard moment passed between us. Then he signed, “Do you truly believe I care about what you want?”

No… I guess he didn’t. Not anymore. I’d been holding it together before, but panic started to close in on me, like a night shadow the sun couldn’t hold back.

“Answer me,” he signed. “Answer your owner.”

I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk, to say it out loud.

“No,” I answered, my sign short and to the point.

“No,” he confirmed.

Only a few moments later, we pulled up to a house set far back from the street, with a high wall of evergreen shrubbery standing in front of it. A section of the natural green wall had been carved out for a rust-red gate. When we pulled up to it, it buzzed and slid open to give the car access to the long driveway hidden behind it.

This was where I would be living for the next ten years. I peered out the window at a bright yellow two-story colonial with black shutters and large windows. A short row of brick steps led to a huge front porch with white stone columns holding up the front. And two gorgeous flowering bushes were flanking the steps.

My prison was beautiful. Like something straight out of Suburban Dreams magazine.

I was trying to keep it together. I was trying not to let the panic win. But this made it real.