Chapter 20

Marco Perez strolled toward a door at the far end of his mansion’s basement. He was whistling a tune he had no idea what was. Not that he cared. It was his favorite day of the year. Above him, in the large room, people scurried around in preparation of the big event. It was nice to be in the soundproof basement and not hear that racket.

He opened the door to the storage room. A girl was sitting on the floor, hunched over with her face buried in her hands. Her head shot up. She recoiled, scooting backward on her butt until the rattling chain attached to a fur-lined collar around her neck stretched to the maximum length and halted her retreat. Her fearful eyes were bloodshot from hours of crying. Teared out, all she could manage was a whimper as she hugged herself with crossed arms.

“Who are you?” the girl said. “What do you want?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Why am I dressed like this? Where are my clothes?”

Tiffany Alcox wore a nun’s habit. A woolen belt tied around her waist held the black tunic together. A wide white collar came to the top of her small breasts and was fastened at the back of her neck. Her blonde hair looked that much blonder against the black outfit. But her hair should not have been visible. Marco glared at the nun’s headpiece lying on the floor.

“Why did you take that off?” he said, pointing an accusing finger at the headpiece.

“Who dressed me like this? I’m not going to wear it.”

Marco crossed his arms. “You will wear it.”

“Will not!”

Marco dropped to a knee next to the girl. She cringed and trembled. He covered her mouth with one large hand and pinched her nose with the other. Tiffany tried to jerk her head free. He held on tight, his fingers pressing into her cheeks. He felt the warm moisture of what little air was trapped inside her mouth on his palm. He felt her lips and chin moving. Her eyes widened before the life faded from them as they closed partway. Marco pulled his hands away.

Tiffany wheezed in a lungful of air. Before she blew it all out, she sucked in another gulp of air. She gasped. Panted. Coughed. Breathed heavily through a gaping mouth.

When her breathing returned to normal, Marco said, “Don’t talk back to me. Ever! You’ll regret it.”

“Where am I? Who are you? I wanna go home.”

“Back to Cactus Point?”

The girl’s jaw dropped and her mouth hung open. “I’m not in Cactus Point?”

Marco shook his head.

Panic filled Tiffany’s eyes. “Then where am I? What am I doing here?”