by Elle Gray
Copyright © 2021 byElle Gray
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Note From Elle Gray
Also By Elle Gray
Prologue
Forty years ago...
The young girl was quiet as the social worker led her by the hand into the Alexandria Orphanage. The social worker had clammy hands, but they were warm and comforting to her. She clung to them tightly like a lifeline, wondering what her future held for her in the big, terrifying building that towered over her.
She wanted to go home, back to Mommy—but Mommy was gone. The girl had watched as she was taken away. Maybe she was going to an orphanage too. She didn’t really know what an orphanage was, only that she was being sent to live in one while they figured out what to do next with her.
The social worker looked down at her with a disapproving glance before bending beside her to roughly wipe something from her face. The girl recoiled at the gesture. She preferred it when the lady was holding her hand.
“Try to be good when we get inside,” the woman told her with a sniff. “I’m going to have to pull some strings to get them to take you in.”
She always tried her best to be good. Sometimes, she tried so hard that even her best efforts to sit still and keep quiet irritated her Mommy. Mommy was hard to please, but she tried all the same. She loved her Mommy more than anything. She hoped she would be able to see her again. She’d never spent so long away from her. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but even as they spilled over her cheeks, she remained silent. She’d mastered it as an art.
The social worker rang the doorbell. It echoed somewhere behind the imposing door; the two of them waited in silence. After what seemed like forever, the door opened to reveal a matronly woman, giving the two of them a stony look. The woman wore all black and her face was pinched like she’d never been happy in her life. It gave her a bad feeling about the place she was about to enter.
“Bring her in. Let’s get this over with.”
The social worker led her through the dark corridors of the orphanage. She tried not to stare too much at her surroundings. She’d often been told that staring was rude, especially when she got caught looking at Mommy for a few seconds too long. But she’d never seen a building like this before, with high ceilings and towering walls that made her want to turn and run away. The social worker kept an iron grip on her hand, and her feet carried her through, all the way to the other woman’s office.
The social worker dropped her hand so fast that the girl wondered what she’d done to upset her. The matronly woman bent her knees slightly to come to the same level as her, giving her a tight-lipped smile.
“Why don’t you play with one of the dolls in the corner?” she asked, pointing to several abandoned toys in the corner of the room. The dolls were collecting dust and clearly not very well-loved, but she’d never had a toy to play with before. She soon forgot the horrible building and the scary social worker and the unsmiling matron. She toddled off into the corner and snatched up a rag doll with buttons for eyes and a sewn-on grin. She didn’t quite know what the point of it was, but she loved it right away.
She was barely listening as the two women began to discuss her coldly.
“I didn’t know where else to take her. She’s not a baby; no one will want to take her in. She’s seen a lot as far as I know. It’s a shock that she’s so well-behaved.”
“Don’t be so sure. The quiet ones always turn out to be the worst,” the matron said darkly. “We simply don’t have the room to take her on. We have twenty children here already…”
“I know, but this is the only option. Everywhere is over capacity. Too many people having kids they can’t handle. It’s like a plague.”
She didn’t know what a plague was. Besides, she was more interested in her new dolly. The smiling rag doll was the friendliest face she’d seen in some time. She held it close to her chest and smiled to herself. It was nice to be hugged.
“Alright, well I guess you’re leaving us no choice. We’ll take her, but we expect some extra funds to cover the cost of her. We’re stretched thin enough.”
“That’s not my department. I just have to do all the dirty work. I’m up to my neck in social calls for the rest of the day. Can I leave her here?”
The matron sighed, rubbing her temple. “Alright. I’ll make some calls about the funding. We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I appreciate it, I really do. And trust me, she’s been good as gold. She won’t cause you any problems.”
“A likely story.”
The young girl felt a hand tap her on the top of her head and she looked up in surprise. The social worker was standing over her. The young girl made a grab for her warm hand, but the social worker snatched it away.
“I have to go now. You’re staying here. They’ll look after you.”
The young girl looked nervously past the social worker to where the matron was standing. She didn’t feel good about being left there. Even with the doll clutched in her hand, she felt alone.
“Can’t I come with you?”
“No,” the social worker said bluntly. “Let’s say goodbye now.”
The young girl got to her feet and tried to hug the woman, but she stepped back. The rejection hurt and she felt her bottom lip wobble, but she didn’t cry. She held it back.
The social worker glanced at the matron. “See? Good as gold.”
She left without another word. The matron showed her to the door, leaving the young girl alone in her office for a moment. She tucked her rag doll under her threadbare jacket, pressing it close to her heart. She got the sense that she wasn’t meant to take it with her, but she needed something to hold on to.
When the matron returned, she sighed, her hands on her hips as she examined the young girl. She shook her head to herself, as though the girl had somehow disappointed her.
“Alright, little miss. Let’s find you a bed. This is your home now.”
One
Olivia Knight sank into the soft chair in her new office with a sigh, relishing to finally have a moment to herself. Her recent move to Belle Grove, Virginia had been a stressful one, but now that she was finally settled in, she could relax a little. She had arranged her study just how she liked it, complete with the comfy chair, a mahogany desk to stack her books and her laptop on, a large bookshelf covering an entire wall of the room, and a slightly droopy plant in the corner. This room was the perfect place for much-needed time to relax and unwind—especially considering her job as an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigat
ion.
She took a sip of the coffee she’d brought into the room with her. It was late, eleven P.M., but Olivia was happy to guzzle down caffeine at all hours of the day. She didn’t tend to sleep much, anyway, especially when she was living in the city. There was always something to keep her wide awake, no matter how much of the black stuff she poured down her throat. Her own constant racing thoughts, whether about work or otherwise, were enough to make her feel alert at all hours of the day with or without coffee.
Already knowing that she wouldn’t sleep until late, she decided to get stuck into one of her favorite books for a few hours. Despite her classic overthinker status, fiction was her refuge, one of the few ways in which she could escape the real world for a while. In fact, reading was basically the one time-tested thing that let her wind down to sleep. She let her guard down when she was reading, letting her defenses crumble until they were low enough to allow sleep to claim her.
She stretched her arm over to the desk, grappling for her favorite book: a well-thumbed copy of Jane Eyre. She slid easily back into the pages. She hadn’t used a bookmark when she last put down the book, but the exact page opened itself up to her like an old friend. She sighed to herself and slid on her reading glasses. The big frames took up half of her small, pretty face and magnified her already big, green eyes. They weren’t the most flattering thing she owned, but she’d already shed her contact lenses a few hours ago and was glad to be rid of them for the day.
Not that it mattered, after all. She was home alone; no one was going to see her like that. In fact, since moving here, she hadn’t had a single visitor, mostly because she didn’t know anyone well enough yet. Her friends from the Bureau, Sam and Emily, had promised to visit soon, but Olivia knew that life in the city kept them busy. The exact reason she’d moved out to Belle Grove, an hour away from Headquarters in DC, was for peace and quiet. At that present moment, she didn’t mind being on her own one bit.
She allowed her mind to drift into the book for a while, away from the grisly world of crime and murder she lived in day to day. Her career in the FBI had taken a toll over the years. She’d seen horrific things, things that others could only dream of. She knew that it made her different from most. Set her apart. Other agents understood, of course, but loneliness was a certain part of the job that wasn’t talked about much. Agents learned to keep themselves to themselves, to compress any fears they had, and pack away the bad memories they collected so easily. Otherwise, their jobs would become impossible. It wasn’t that they were unemotional robots—it was just a part of the job to make sure those emotions stayed in check.
That’s why Olivia loved Jane Eyre so much. A tale about a headstrong young woman who faces every challenge that life can possibly produce. She’s abused, loses her best friend, discovers that the man she loves is married to another, and is generally handed a bad deal in life. But she still gets her happily-ever-after ending. Olivia smiled as she found herself approaching the end of the book for the fifth time. If Jane was given such luck, Olivia was sure that she was due some happiness soon. One of these days.
As she finished the book and placed it back on the desk, however, she felt the slow dread of her problems returning to her. In many ways, she considered herself very lucky. She was smart, resourceful, pretty enough. She’d had a good upbringing, attended good schools, and then trained at the FBI Academy, soon becoming one of the most established agents of her age. She’d never have to worry about money, which she was thankful for. But she had some unique issues in her life that she knew not many could relate to. She closed her eyes, watching her sister’s face in her mind. Her chest tightened. Veronica... her elder sibling, her only sibling. Except she didn’t even have her anymore…
Olivia opened her eyes quickly, forcing the thoughts of her sister to the back of her mind and silently berating herself. The worst thing she could do was to start thinking of her before bed—unless she wanted to guarantee a long, sleepless night. She hoisted herself up off the chair, taking off her glasses and rubbing her nose where the frames dug into her skin and decided to try to get some shut-eye.
She walked through her new home slowly, putting off the inevitability of going to bed. The cabin creaked beneath her feet. It was a strange little place that she lived, so unlike her modern apartment back in DC. While her home there had been airy and light, this cabin was almost always cast in perpetual darkness. It was set in the mouth of the forest, deep enough to be concealed by the trees, but not to be cut off entirely from the rest of the town. One of the townspeople had told her that the cabin used to belong to a forest ranger, but he’d abandoned ship several years before, allowing the forest to reclaim itself. Every morning when Olivia made her way to the car, she told herself to try and do some gardening to clear some of the foliage, but she hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Her schedule was busy enough with a two-hour round trip into Headquarters every day, and she often worked long hours. She had zero desire to spend precious hours attacking the forest when, clearly, it had a mind of its own.
Her friends thought she was crazy when she announced that she was moving to Belle Grove. Not just because of the long commute, but because it was no place for a federal agent. Agents signed up for a life of action befitting a hectic life in the city. But Olivia had already had her fair share of action. She could retire right then, not yet even thirty, having seen enough for a hundred lifetimes. No, this new lifestyle would suit her well, she just knew it.
She slowly made her way into the kitchen, her bare feet icy cold against the kitchen tiles. She poured herself a glass of water, the pipes creaking loudly with the effort of the task. The tap screeched and Olivia jumped in shock. The FBI had taught her to be paranoid and alert, and she’d heard enough screams in her time to make an unnecessary connection between the two sounds. She shuddered and took a breath. She definitely needed to get some shut-eye.
But as she made her way to the stairs, her ears were straining, sure she could hear something unusual. The cabin itself was noisy, always creaking and moaning day and night, but the forest generally remained silent. Almost eerily so.
Olivia had envisioned when she first moved there that she’d be able to hear animals in the night, or at least birds sometimes, but now that she was here, it was like the forest was deserted. That’s why it struck her hard when she heard it: the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the distance.
It was the middle of the night. There was no way anyone from the town would be stumbling around in the dark, not in the overgrown, dangerous forest at the far edge of the street. Her heart began hammering against her chest.
Was it possible someone was out there?
The sudden weight of just how alone she was out there settles into her stomach. If there was someone out there, someone dangerous, no one would hear her scream. She reminded herself that as an expert in hand-to-hand combat, she was far better equipped for a fight than some common criminal. Even if it came to blows, she could use her Bureau-issued firearm. She crept up the stairs, trying to remain calm as she found her pistol upstairs and ensured it was loaded. She didn’t want to have to use it, but she would if she needed to.
She really didn’t want to need to.
She crept down the stairs again, her hands steady even though her heartbeat wasn’t. The sound was getting closer, more insistent; definitely not just a figment of her imagination. The crunch of leaves beneath feet—or hooves. Whatever was out there was moving fast, moving erratically. She took a deep breath and told herself it was probably an animal. Just a deer. The animals out in the woods were wild, unused to the presence of humans. She didn’t want to spook it.
But then she heard a whimper.
It was too human. Too recognizable. It sounded fearful. Olivia’s heart skipped a beat. Whoever was out there was scared and might need help. But what were they running from?
Were they being chased?
Olivia jumped as something slammed against the front window of the cabin. She barreled down several more sta
irs and was shocked to see the face of a young girl pressed up against the glass. Her eyes were wide in fear, her cheeks were tear-stained, and her mouth was open as though she was silently screaming.
Olivia’s training kicked in. She sprang into action right away, running to the front door and unlocking it, then throwing it open and scanning the darkness for any sign of trouble. She had to protect the young girl from whatever was terrifying her so much. But all she could hear was the quiet whimpering. She cut a glance left and right, but found no sign that she was being chased—by a human or otherwise. The night was completely still.
“Are you alright? Are you being followed?” Olivia asked quickly, still aiming her gun into the darkness. But the girl seemed unable to answer. She had sunk to her knees on the porch, giving in to her tears and sobbing loudly. Olivia stared at her in horror. The girl was in a bad way. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen, possibly younger. Her blonde hair was limp and greasy around her face. She was covered in dirt, her tears making tracks through the grime on her cheeks. She was wearing pajamas, but they were threadbare and filthy, as if she’d been wearing them for weeks. She smelled like she hadn’t washed in a long time, and her legs were covered in scratches from the brambles in the forest. Her face was gaunt and her body so slim that she was clearly malnourished, her bones seeming to press hard against her thin skin. As she sobbed, she held up her wrists to show Olivia, who gasped in horror.
Her wrists were the worst part. They were red and raw, with deep grooves set into her pale skin. Olivia could identify the reason right away, which nearly made her sick to her stomach. Someone had kept this girl bound by her wrists. She had been taken captive somewhere. Olivia swung around again, looking for signs that someone was still in pursuit of the girl. But there was nothing. No one could make their way through the darkness of the forest without making any noise. For now, at least, the girl was safe from harm.
