The wound tore open. I doubled over, drenched in cold sweat, but I forced the words through clenched teeth. "You're scared, Ethel. That's what this is. You keep saying Mr. Stephens loves you. Where's the proof? Mom, Dad, stop her. If I die, Mr. Stephens will never let you walk free."
My conviction made them waver again.
That was when Ethel, looking like she'd reached her absolute limit, pulled out her phone and tapped the screen.
"I didn't want to show this, but fine. Watch this video. Then tell me you don't believe me."
A wave of obscene sounds filled the room.
Her parents watched with wide eyes, their faces lit up with delight.
"I believe it now! The Mr. Stephens on TV looks exactly like that!"
"Our Ethel really came through! They've already slept together. If he's not going to marry you, who else would he marry?"
I felt as though lightning had struck me. I couldn't believe a single word of it.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible!
Only one thought consumed me now: I had to get out of here. I had to survive. I had to find out the truth.
Bang, bang, bang.
"Police! Open the door!"
"Hel—"
Ethel clamped her hand over my mouth and hissed under her breath.
"Hurry! If we don't do it now, she'll report us to the police and none of us will get off easy!"
My parents didn't hesitate any longer. The three of them hoisted me up together.
To make sure I couldn't fight back, Ethel raised her knee and slammed it into my lower abdomen again.
My scream was smothered against her palm. The pain was so blinding I nearly blacked out, every last ounce of resistance draining from my body.
BANG.
The door was kicked open, but it wasn't just the police who rushed in. Logan was there too, flanked by a wall of bodyguards.
In the split second they shoved me out the window, I saw Logan lunge toward me, panic written across his face.
