Chapter 1 Midnight Crisis

The water hit Alice like a slap, drenching her right there in her own bed while she was still tangled in the sheets

She woke gasping, choking on nothing, her nightgown plastered to her skin and her hair dripping onto the pillow. For a long, horrible moment she couldn't tell if she was still dreaming, if this was just another nightmare she'd wake from in a few seconds, but she wasn’t fully awake, but her eyes finally focused and she saw them.

Three figures standing around her bed, dark and silent and watching in a creepy way.

Alice blinked hard, rubbing her eyes with shaking hands. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it in her ears, and she told herself she was seeing things, that exhaustion was playing tricks on her, but then the lamp clicked on and she knew she wasn't.

Her father stood closest, his face twisted into an expression so ugly and cold that she'd never seen before. Nina stood beside him with her arms folded and her expression completely blank, and behind them, half-hidden in shadow, Linda watched with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

No one spoke. No one moved. The silence pressed down on Alice like a heavy weight.

"Dad...?" Her voice came out cracked, small and confused. "What's going on?"

Nothing. She looked between them, searching for any sign that this was a joke or a mistake, anything but what it looked like, but their faces gave her nothing.

"Did something happen?" she tried again. "Please, just tell me….”

Her father's hand shot out, and the slap sent her flying off the bed. She hit the floor hard, her cheek exploding with pain, her teeth cutting into the inside of her mouth, and she tasted blood as her ears rang loudly. For a second she couldn't breathe. He'd never hit her before, never in twenty-two years had he ever raised a hand to her. He simply pretended she didn’t exist to him, never acknowledged her and looked the other way when she was being maltreated. 

"You disgusting little whore," he shouted, his voice shaking the walls. "How dare you sleep with your sister's fiancé?"

Alice stared up at him from the floor, her hand pressed to her burning face, the words not making sense because they couldn't make sense.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"Don't play dumb," he sneered. "We have proof. You’ve always been manipulative and shameless! But this is the lowest!”

Linda stepped forward, dropping a stack of photographs onto the floor beside Alice's head.

"Look," she said, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. "Look at what you've done. I know you were with Matthew first, I know you still have feelings for him, but you promised me. You looked me in the eye and swore you wouldn't come between us. So was that a lie sister? Do you want me to give him up? Because I will, Alice. I'll walk away for you, if you can just be honest and say you were wrong. Apologize, and we can forget this ever happened."

Alice reached for one with trembling fingers, her hand shaking so badly she could barely hold it, and the image stared back at her. A hotel room, a bed, a man and woman tangled together. The man was Matthew, Linda's fiancé and her ex-boyfriend, she recognized him instantly, but the woman had her face, same hair, same body, same eyes, everything.

"No," she shook her head. "No, this isn't me. This isn't, I would never….”

"Liar," her father said, his voice ice.

"Dad, please." Tears streamed down her face. "Please believe me. I've never touched him, I've never even been alone with him in a room months ago when I was dating him. I'm still—" her voice cracked. "I'm still a virgin. I would know if…”

"Enough."

Nina's voice cut through like a blade, and Alice turned to her, the woman who had raised her, who had called her daughter for twenty years.

"Mom, please believe me, I won’t….”

"Don't call me that."

The words hit Alice like a physical blow. She stared at Nina, her lips parted, her chest heaving.

"What?"

Nina's face didn't change, if anything it grew colder.

"Don’t call me your mother, your real mother was a worthless woman who slept with my husband and your father," Nina said, each word deliberate and cruel. "She got pregnant with you and died giving birth to you. I raised you because I had no choice not because I wanted to, but you were never my daughter. You were never anything but a stain that refuses to be washed away."

Alice felt her heart inside her break.

"That's not true," she whispered. "That's not, you're lying…”

"Her name was Mona," Linda said, her voice almost cheerful. "Mona S'Lene. Buried at Floor Cemetery like a common criminal, plot seventeen. Go see for yourself if you don't believe us."

Alice looked at her sister, the girl she'd grown up with, shared secrets with, loved, and Linda's smile was satisfied, too satisfied, like she'd been waiting for this.

"Dad…” Alice turned back to her father, desperate now. "Please, I swear—"

"I don't want to hear it."

He grabbed her arm, his grip brutal, his fingers digging into her flesh so hard she cried out, and he dragged her across the room, through the hallway, down the stairs. Alice stumbled after him, her bare feet slipping on the polished floors, tears streaming down her face, her voice cracking as she begged and pleaded for him to listen, but he didn't listen, he didn't slow down, he didn't look back.

The front doors burst open and cold air slammed into Alice's face. Before she could catch her breath, her father shoved her forward and she went flying down the stone steps, her knees hitting the gravel hard, her palms scraping raw. A suitcase hit the ground beside her, then another, then her bag with its contents spilling everywhere. The doors slammed shut, the sound echoing through the night like a gunshot, and Alice lay there on the cold ground, gasping, bleeding, shaking.

For a long moment, she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Then she pushed herself up on trembling arms. The mansion glowed in front of her, warm and golden and utterly unreachable, the windows staring down at her like eyes. No one came to the door, no one called her name, no one even looked out. She was nothing to them. She had always been nothing.

A creak made her look up. The gate. Linda was standing there on the other side of the iron bars, watching her. She didn't look sad or guilty, she looked pleased. A slow smile spread across her face, then she raised her hand, gave a little wave, and turned and walked away. The iron gates shuddered shut.

Alice was alone.

She knelt there in the darkness, her knees bleeding, her hands raw, her face swollen where her father had struck her, the photographs scattered around her like evidence of a crime she hadn't committed. It's not me. But it didn't matter what she said, it didn't matter what the truth was, they'd made up their minds a long time ago. She looked down at her shaking hands and realized she had nothing, no home, no family, no one.

And the worst part was that this wasn't an accident. The thought crept into her mind like a snake, the photographs, the confrontation, the way Linda had smiled, the way Nina had spoken like she'd been waiting years to say those words. None of this was sudden, none of this was real. They'd planned this, all of it, but why? What had she ever done to deserve this?

Alice lifted her head toward the mansion one last time, the golden windows glowing in the darkness, warm and untouchable. Somewhere inside, they were probably celebrating. Somewhere inside, they were probably laughing. And she was out here, broken, bleeding, cold, shivering and discarded.

Her voice came out cracked and empty, barely a whisper against the cold night air:

"What do I do now...?"