Fallen

“They cut you,” she said, her heart in her throat.

Sydney emerged from the bathroom, returning to the other side of Aurora’s bed and handing her a glass of water. Aurora sat up slightly and took a few sips before laying her head back on the pillow. “Yes, they cut me. They held me down and took a razor to my thighs. They opened the door so the others could hear me scream.” Her face screwed up and tears filled her eyes. Kandace squeezed her hand. Sydney and Kandace hadn’t heard her screams because they’d been outside, but of course, they got to see the result of Aurora’s punishment. They were witness to her pain and tears.

“Your parents will see these scars, Aurora,” Sydney said. “They’ll know.”

But Aurora just looked at her sadly. “How will they tell them from the ones I gave myself?” Aurora asked. Kandace’s stomach sank. She had no answer because Aurora was right. She’d thought it once before when she’d first arrived at Lilith House, and she thought it now: they were the perfect victims. Liars, thieves, whores, and those who practiced self-sabotage as though it was their job. By the time they’d shown up at Lilith House, they’d lost all credibility.

Why should anyone believe a word they said?

As Kandace stood, so that Sydney could hold the glass while Aurora drank, the pregnancy test stolen for her felt like a fifty-pound weight in the pocket of her uniform.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEScarlett moved a box aside, careful not to disturb the layer of dust that might explode in her face.

The sounds of banging echoed from above, making Scarlett smile. They were erecting the final studs in the newly enlarged kitchen and drywall would go up later that afternoon. One step closer. It was already a decent-sized room, but she needed to turn it into an industrial kitchen with more bench space.

Once the walls were complete, the fun part started . . . cabinets, stainless steel countertops, industrial-sized fridges and freezers, two ovens with induction cooktops, instant hot water, upper and lower cabinets, and paint. She could see it all in her head. Practically smell the sweetness of the cakes that would bake in the ovens.

Yes, once the kitchen was complete, she’d be in business again. Not fully in business, or at least not the business she planned—that was going to take a completed renovation of the house and grounds, a business license, brochures, business cards, a few employees, W-9s and who knew what other tax documents were necessary . . . but at least once the kitchen was complete, she’d be able to cook and bake. Maybe she’d drive into Farrow and see if one of the local stores was interested in selling some home-baked goods. It wasn’t that she needed the money, exactly—she’d planned financially—but what else was she going to do?

Not only that, but it was always good to build on her skill set. And perhaps she’d come up with a few new recipes that would really wow the brides.

Not to mention baking was her happy place. Creating beautiful and delicious food nourished her soul as much as it delighted those she fed.

It’d only been a month since she’d been in a kitchen—barring the quick batch of chocolate chip cookies she’d baked at Lilith House—and she already felt itchy.

The memory of the chocolate chip cookies brought Deputy West to mind but she pushed him from her thoughts. She had no desire to think about him. With a tad more strength than needed, she pulled a box aside, the weight of the item taking her off balance so she almost fell backward. She caught herself just in time, dropping the box, which fell apart in a burst of dust, spilling its contents onto the floor. Ugh.

Scarlett pushed at the box with her foot, revealing a pile of dark red fabric, the scent of mildew meeting her nose. Ew. She recalled the photo on the cover of the Lilith House brochure and wondered if those were extra uniforms meant for the students who’d attended the school. Likely.

Scarlett used her foot to slide the box and its contents over to the side of the basement she’d designated for junk.

Just as she went to pick up the next box, she spied what looked like an old trunk wedged between the pile she was working on and the one just behind it.

Leaning forward, she peered into it, a tingle going up her spine. A treasure chest she thought with an internal smile. In truth, it didn’t look fancy. It didn’t even look cool in that vintage way old things sometimes did, but rather simply ancient and dilapidated. Still . . . something about it spoke to her.

Quickly, she pushed the boxes in front of her aside and scooted the trunk forward. She knelt down on the floor and pried the rusty latch open, lifting the lid. Books. On the top was a thick, leather-bound Bible. Scarlett opened the flap but no name was written inside. She set that on the floor and pulled the next book out: The Chronicles of Narnia. Were these things that had belonged to one of the young women who’d lived at Lilith House? Perhaps even one of the girls who’d died in the fire? That thought pulled at Scarlett’s heartstrings. If she could find a name somewhere among these items, she was sure the girl’s family would want them.