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PROLOGUE
WREN
I hate the dark.
Five years old…
“Sonofabitch!”
My eyes widen, and I cover my mouth with my hand as I watch Daddy hop around on one foot. Mommy told me to clean up my toys, but I couldn’t find one of Barbie’s shoes. I guess it was hiding in the carpet.
“Wren!” Daddy shouts when he finally stops acting like a jumping bean and stares at the ceiling. “Get your ass down here!”
I scoot further behind the couch toward the corner. I’ve learned to make myself invisible when Daddy’s mad, and right now, he’s really really mad.
“I’m gonna count to three,” he yells. “And if you’re n?—”
“Keep your voice down,” Mommy snaps, and I stand to peer over the furniture as she walks into the living room. “I just got Ry down for his nap.”
Daddy stomps toward Mommy and leans down so his nose is almost touching hers. “I’ll yell if I goddamn wanna yell,” he snarls.
Mommy lowers her head and mumbles an apology. When she turns to walk back into the kitchen, Daddy grabs her arm and spins her around to face him again.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” he barks.
When crying fills the air, I glance at the ceiling. So much for Ryan’s naptime.
“Go shut that baby up,” Daddy snaps, punctuating his demand with a slap across Mommy’s face.
Without thinking, I jump out from behind the couch and run to Mommy. “Leave her alone!” I shout as I throw my arms around her legs.
“Baby, it’s okay,” Mommy says. “Go upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I shake my head, and Daddy scowls. “Do as you're told.”
“I’m not lea?—”
Pain radiates through my head when Daddy’s hand connects with my cheek. I fall to the floor and scramble to my place behind the couch. Someone must turn the lights off because it gets dark, and I’m scared.
I hate the dark.
“Can you hear me?”
“Jesus, what the hell happened here?”
I squint against the light shining in my eyes. “Mommy?”
“What’s your name, honey?”
“She’s in shock. Take her to the EMTs and have her checked out.”
A man I don’t recognize lifts me from the floor and curls his hand at the back of my head, gently pushing my face into his shoulder.
“Mommy?”
“It’s okay honey. You’re safe.”
I feel safe. But I still want my mommy. Propping my chin on his shoulder, I watch as strangers move back and forth in the living room, from one red pile of clothes to another. My eyes lock on the smallest pile and the tiny hand sticking out from under it.
