“Papa!” Ruby yells, and I spin around, pointing the light from my phone directly on her face. She winces. “Sorry.”

It’s probably not fair to blame her, but I can’t help it right now. If I wasn’t distracted by her stupidity, I would have seen where the fuck Poppy went.

“Poppy has gone, and—”

I snatch the phone off her, continuing our trek farther into the woods.

“You there?”

“What’s happening? Talk to me.”

“Something’s not right. There are people here who Ruby doesn’t know.”

“Wesley on the front door?” he asks calmly.

“Yeah, but the kid is dumb as fuck. Poppy is missin’.” The silence between us stretches wide. Wide enough to make my fucking skin crawl with anticipation. “And he claims she didn’t skip from the front.”

“Alright, keep going. I’ll be there soon.” I hang up the phone, and just as I do, I see a new message on mine and click the unknown number to open it.

She’s not there.

I stop walking, and everyone around me does the same.

Typing off a new reply, I don’t even hit send before another comes in. If you want to see her alive again, we need to make a deal.

I finally punch the final letters and hit send. Who is this?

Another message comes through. Not important. What is, is that you need to make that deal to see your precious sister again, Wicked. You need to go back to the party, tell everyone you know where she is, and bring little Ruby La Rosa with you.

I read over the words, and then read them again. What?

“What is it?” Ruby asks from ahead, and I raise my eyes up to hers. If this has something to do with her papa, then I’m getting to the bottom of it.

I type out my reply, shoving my phone into my pocket. “That was Poppy. She’s fine but wants us to go and get her.” I point to Ruby and me.

“Oh thank God!” Ruby’s hand comes to her chest. She shoves through the grass as everyone starts making their way back to the party. “No offense, but I’m going to kick her ass for stressing us out.”

Slipping into the SUV, I open my phone to another text as Ruby says goodbye to all her little partygoers. We’re going to play some games. Do you still remember how? I stop typing. Darkness clouds over my vision.

Who the fuck is this?

I didn’t need to ask. The problem with trauma is it leaves its scars behind, so it knows exactly where to find them again when it comes back. And it does. It always comes back.

I think you know…