Chapter One

I sat across the small kitchen table, my parents, Didi, and Harry, on the other side. The three of us were locked in some weird staring contest that none of us wanted to lose. Didi’s, or Mom’s, blond hair was recently cropped short, and now it swung wildly across her face as she shook her head at me. Harry, Dad, draped an arm over Mom’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. He was likely trying to calm her because we all knew the tempers ran hot in the Adams family. Mom’s brows curved down, her telltale sign that she was disappointed with me.

”Why, Sera? Why do you do this?” Mom choked on a sob and dropped her head in her hands. For a split second, I felt something like guilt, twisting my insides. It’s not like I purposefully tried to disappoint them; it just came naturally at this rate. It didn’t matter what I did; nothing was ever good enough. I’d been saying for years that they didn’t understand me, always meticulously controlling every aspect of my life, like they could fix me or something. But I hadn’t been aware that I was broken.

I turned away from their stares, instead glancing out of the large bay window to my right. The window overlooked a perfectly manicured lawn, stretching from the edge of the house to the perfect road in the ideal little subdivision. I hated this place more than any other that we moved to. And we were always moving. This time, we were in Seattle, Washington, and even though it was only August, we had already moved three times that year. Seattle wasn’t all bad. I loved to take hikes through the woods, enjoying the scenery and the quiet. It was the only time that I felt like I wasn’t being judged. I faced my parents again, ready to get this argument over with. They were ticked to learn that I had been suspended from Lockwood High, once again. Being eighteen, I had planned to keep my head down and finish out my senior year. Had even looked forward to finding a job to earn enough so that once I graduated, I could flee all of it.

“If Lucas had learned to keep his hands to himself, this never would have happened,” I stated calmly. Lucas Bryant was the bane of my existence, but was also the star of the school and the quarterback of the football team. In everyone’s eyes but my own, he could do no wrong. Clearly, all the fame had run to his head, and not the one on his shoulders. I had been minding my own business, grabbing books from my locker, when Lucas had walked by and slapped my butt. When I turned around to cuss him out, he’d leaned in for a kiss. I did what any sane girl would do in that situation; I grabbed his shoulders, gave him a sweet smile, and then launched my knee into his groin. He’d dropped to the floor, cursing my name. It was unlucky for me that Mr. Jones, my science teacher, saw the assault. But not what had led up to it. As a result, I ended up in the principal’s office, where I received a long lecture about how violence wasn’t tolerated and that I would be suspended. I never did get the chance to explain what happened; their minds had already been made up.

I looked up from where I’d been staring at my hands, my eyes finding Dad's brown ones. They were usually warm and soft, but today they were dull and tired. I had hoped that he would support me, but he’d shaken his head. Mom massaged her temples with her fingers, not even looking at me. I stood abruptly and stormed from the room. Didn’t even bother waiting to be excused and made my way to the small room that I’d been forced to call home. I opened the door to a depressing sight: bare white walls surrounded a small twin bed, a bedside table, and a small dresser. There was one window that faced the neighbors' trash cans, but I kept the curtains closed. Mom and Dad never bothered to paint any rooms whenever we moved, because we would just move again, and they said it was too much work. We couldn’t hang anything, couldn’t put holes in the walls. Nothing that would require to be fixed before moving again. I glanced at the boxes still piled in the corner and found myself wishing for something to change, anything to bring me out of this miserable existence.

I’d flopped, face-down, onto my bed and had been there barely a minute before my door opened. I could smell Mom’s perfume before she’d reached my bed, and I sighed. She sat down at the edge of the bed and ran her hand through my long, dark blond locks. I waited, knowing she would have something to say. And I didn’t have to wait long.

“I talked to Principal Bracken,” Mom started, and I tensed. “He said he would revoke the suspension if you apologize to Lucas.” I jerked myself out of her reach and sat upright, my eyes wide with rage.

“I am NOT apologizing to that prick!” I argued. “He doesn’t deserve an apology for assaulting me. In fact, he should be the one apologizing!” I hissed. I watched Mom’s face morph instantly from shock to anger.

“Yes, you will! If I have to march you to that office myself, Serafina, so help me, I will!” She warned, her tone brooking no room for argument. I couldn’t speak; my chest was rising with my panting breaths. My vision blurred, and by the time I could see again, Mom was already gone. I reached for my pillow, bringing it to my face and roaring my frustrations into it. There was no way in hell I was going to apologize to Lucas. I’d rather deal with the suspension and the disappointment. Exhausted, I pulled back my covers and got under them, staring at the blank wall beside me. I fell asleep dreaming of kicking Lucas’s ass through the halls of Lockwood High.

When I woke, the room was dark, which wasn’t all that unusual. Thick black curtains covered my window, blocking any remaining light. But why was my heart pounding in my chest? My eyes searched for, well, I don’t know, but even if I did, it's not like I could see anything. A breeze suddenly washed over me, bringing goosebumps to my skin. I whipped my head back towards the window and noticed the curtains billowing slightly, letting in small streams of moonlight.

I didn’t open the window. I sat up and pulled myself over to the window, pushing the curtains to the side. It was definitely open, and the sky was dark enough to tell me that I’d been asleep for a while. The subdivision’s street was eerily quiet. Too quiet. I shut it quickly and turned the lock. I took a deep breath, then chuckled to myself. Why was I getting myself worked up for nothing? We lived in such a picture-perfect neighborhood, with white picket fences and smiling moms and dads who waved and shouted things like, “Howdy, neighbor!”

Thump-thump.

I sucked in a breath and turned my head towards the door. Were those footsteps? Reaching behind me, I pulled the curtain slightly to the side and let the light from the poles shine into my room just enough to see, shit! The room disappeared back into the darkness as I dropped the curtain. My heart thundered louder in my chest. My door was open, and I knew for a fact that I didn’t leave it open. I inched back towards my bed, still in my dark blue sweater that reached my knees, covering my black leggings. I dropped to my knees, scrambling around the carpet, searching for the black flats I had dropped when I’d thrown myself onto the bed earlier. A sigh of relief once I found them and shoved my feet into them. I pulled my phone from my back pocket as I stood back up. With shaking hands, I managed to turn it on and press the flashlight icon.

At once, my room was bathed in light, and nothing was out of place, save for the door and the window. I made my way to the door, pulling it open further and shining the light in the hall, and held my breath as I leaned out of the doorway, looking side to side. The house was too quiet. Quiet enough that I feared my thundering heart could be heard. Normally, Mom was downstairs with the TV on, watching something or other. As I crept towards the stairs, I couldn’t see a glare, meaning the TV was off. I backed away from the stairs and headed towards Mom and Dad’s room. But the closer I came, the shakier I got. Their door was open too.

It was never left open.

I took a deep breath. Maybe they had just been so tired that they went to bed early, forgetting to close their door. I lifted my shaking hand to push the door open just a little more, but my fingers never reached the wood. A hand suddenly clamped over my mouth, the other pinning my arms to my sides. My eyes flared wide. I tried to suck in a breath through my mouth, but I couldn’t, causing me to panic. Lifting my leg, I tried to kick my attacker, but they dodged every time. My eyelids grew heavy, my movements turning sluggish.

“Nothing personal, love,” was the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

An icy coldness splashed across my face. I sucked in a breath and bolted upright, swaying. When I opened my eyes, I found myself on a sidewalk, staring at a man much older than me. He looked a little familiar, like one of the neighbors who lived a few houses down. I often saw him in his driveway tinkering with small, broken bikes. I remember him because I often passed him on my walks and wondered if those rusted, broken bikes looked a little like me. His dark brown eyes, slanted with concern, bore down into mine, and his lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The man was shaking my shoulders, causing my head to sway back and forth. I just needed a moment; everything was groggy.

The first flickers of awareness finally penetrated my mind, my nose twitching, smelling…smoke? SMOKE? I tried to turn around, but the man clasped me in place. I pushed him as hard as I could, feeling a small twinge of guilt as he fell back hard. I turned and found a house up in flames. My eyes went wild, looking for any-, no! There was Mom’s black sedan in the driveway, and Harry’s Porsche. Was my house on fire? I glanced frantically through the crowd now gathering, but I couldn’t find my parents. Where were they?

My lungs were frantically searching for air by the time I turned back towards the man. Was he the one who took me?

”Hey, are you okay? What’s your name?” He asked, worry wrinkles lining his face. My name? Why did he need to know my name? My hands were shaking, from fear or worry; I wasn’t sure.

“Serafina. Where are my parents?” I paused and turned my head back towards the house. “How did I get here?” My lips quivered, my chest feeling heavy. I dropped my head in my hands and let the sobs wreck my body.

“I-I don’t know,” the man stuttered as he turned to ask someone where the paramedics were. Then he turned back to me.

”Are you hurt? What’s the last thing you remember?”

I shook my head, trying to remember. My hands entangled themselves in my hair as I flicked my eyes back and forth. Something was tugging in the back of my mind, something that felt urgent. I remembered the quietness, my parent’s door being left open but…

”Wait, someone attacked me.” I whispered. The man looked at me wearily, like he didn’t quite believe me, but he nodded his head anyway. With nothing else to do, I turned back towards the house and watched as the flames took the home I never wanted. And maybe my parents, too.