Chapter 1 - The Code Word
Our shared leg was wrapped in a heavy fiberglass cast when our stepfather dragged us out of bed.
He shoved us down onto the hard wooden floor because I refused to apologize to him.
My twin, Liam, cried out in pain before I did.
Our stepfather, Arthur, simply stood over us and laughed.
He told us that at least one of us knew who was actually in charge of this house.
I went completely quiet, but it was not because I surrendered.
It was because Liam had already sent our aunt the secret code word we only used in absolute emergencies.
For years, Liam and I had learned exactly how to survive Arthur's violent and unpredictable moods.
We knew the distinct sound of his heavy boots pacing the hallway.
We knew when a slammed kitchen cabinet meant a storm of anger was coming.
We knew when to stay close to each other, and we knew when one of us needed to find an excuse to leave the room.
But that night, I had one simple answer for him.
I firmly stated that I was not going to apologize for something I absolutely did not do.
Arthur always wanted total control much more than he ever wanted an apology.
The surgical cast on our shared leg was still incredibly fresh, and every single movement sent fire through our nerves.
Liam tried his best to pull me back up to a sitting position.
Arthur only laughed louder, acting like our physical pain was undeniable proof that he was winning.
That was the exact moment Liam made the silent choice that changed everything.
The code word was not something we ever used casually.
We had created it months ago because we needed a way to ask for help without making Arthur suspicious.
A single word sent to our Aunt Clara meant she needed to come right now, without calling first.
I did not know if she had even seen the message.
I did not know if anyone would ever truly believe what was happening to us inside this isolated house.
But Liam did not hesitate for a single second.
While Arthur thought he had successfully silenced us, Liam was already reaching out to the only person we trusted.
He had kept his phone hidden under the discarded bed blanket.
His hands were shaking violently as he typed, but he successfully sent the message.
Then we simply waited on the floor.
We were not waiting for Arthur to change his behavior.
We were not waiting for another forced apology that we did not owe him.
We were waiting for the woman who knew our code.
A few minutes later, bright headlights washed across the bedroom window.
Arthur abruptly stopped talking and stared at the glass.
He looked toward the gravel driveway, suddenly realizing that someone else had arrived at the property.
The heavy front door handle turned downstairs, and footsteps echoed up the wooden steps.
Aunt Clara stepped into our bedroom carrying her cell phone, displaying the message we thought Arthur would never see.
May you like
But Arthur did not look panicked or surprised by her arrival.
He simply smiled, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a dark, heavy handgun.
