Exception

To my beloved Alex who helped me find my way.

This book would not be the same without you—

neither would I.

T
HE CORRIDOR
seemed to stretch into an eternity of worn-out wooden floorboards, faded walls with broken mirrors and a sickening mold smell. Identical doors with large brass knobs lined the walls at different intervals.

Emily walked the hallway with a tight knot forming in her gut. She’d been in that place many times before and knew exactly what to expect; but, as much as she hated that place and those doors, and what she would find on the other side of them, she knew she couldn’t help but to open them.

Ignoring the first two doors, Emily stood in front of the third and took a deep breath, allowing the mold and dust to fill her nostrils. Her shaky hand reached for the round handle and, in one swift movement, she opened the door. As soon as her feet crossed the threshold, she regretted her choice.

A familiar dimly-lit street, littered with rubble from a nasty car wreck, spanned the space before her. She’d been there before—but this time, there was something different. It wasn’t anything specific; just a different charge in the air that made her skin crawl.

Within seconds, the door she’d entered through vanished, and bright lights and loud noises engulfed her. The female shrieked hysterically. Her words made no sense, but they still got Emily’s blood boiling. A painful, childish cry came from the rubble, replacing every thought in her mind with a desperate need to save the tiny person asking for help.

Her feet and her agony urged her forward, but, before she could take her first step, a hand caught her neck in a steel grip, cutting the flow of oxygen to her lungs. Reaching up she clawed at the hand, but her efforts were useless. She was weak and powerless, and completely subdued. The warmth of disgusting whiskey-scented breath touched her ear, affirming all her previous thoughts, as a male voice whispered, “You’re mine, princess. You’ll always be mine.”

Bile rose to Emily’s mouth at the sound of that voice, and her fingers clawed more vigorously, her nails digging into his skin until they drew blood. Still, his hold didn’t loosen. Hot and heavy tears fell from her eyes and she hated how weak they made her look, but she couldn’t keep them in.

“Take your damn hands of me,” she demanded in a raspy whisper. “Don’t ever touch me. No one can touch me.”

Loud, wild laughter followed her words, as another set of hands clasped around her neck, crazed laughter and an evil male and female chorus echoed like creepy bells in her ears. Tears streamed from her eyes like rivers. Her body stiffened as the whiskey breath neared her once more.

“You’re still here, princess, and here you belong to me.”

Emily’s mouth opened and she forced her vocal cords to produce some sort of sound, but nothing returned to her ears. Her muscles trembled and weakened as her assailants closed in on her, calling her name. The repulsive smell of alcohol filled her nostrils again, heightening and spreading more and more panic through her every limb. Her tears became waterfalls, wetting her face and hair.

Then Emily’s eyes flew open and she saw her older sister, Charlotte, sitting by her side. Her big blue eyes were wide and terrified as she held Emily’s limp body against her own.

“Shh . . . it’s okay Emmy, it was just a dream,” Charlotte whispered against Emily’s hair, her arms wrapped around her baby sister with a vicelike grip as she rocked both their bodies back and forth.

“They touched me Charlie, both of them. He said I still belong to him because I’m still here,” Emily cried on her sister’s shoulder. “I hate that they touched me . . . I hate it.”

Arching her body back to look at her sister’s face, Charlotte kissed the tears running down her cheeks away and forced a smile. “Good thing that you’re not sticking around for much longer, right?”

She waited in silence until Emily’s tears had stopped and her body had relaxed; then, with loving arms, she leaned back to the mattress, holding her sister flush against her tiny frame. “Now sleep, sissy, because tomorrow you’re crossing the country in a U-Haul truck to start a new life and leave all these bad memories and nightmares behind.

“I’m so proud of you for taking this chance to reinvent yourself,” Charlotte continued in a soothing voice. “I know sometimes you feel weak, but you’re not, honey, you’re so strong and so incredible, and so deserving of the best life has to offer. I’m sure you’ll find happiness on the East Coast.”

Emily closed her eyes, paying close attention to her sister’s words, words she desperately wanted to believe.

“You just have to use your gut, keep your wits, and give deserving people a chance. We all know you can hold your own alone. We all know you don’t mind being a loner, but having people, friends who love you, is an amazing gift; so, if people approach you, if they want to get to know you—give them a chance. Don’t make it easy for them, though. Make your standards as high as your heels, and don’t accept anything less, but don’t immediately dismiss them, either. Promise me you’ll do that? Try to be happy? Promise me you’ll try to love people, and allow yourself to be loved in return?”

“Charlie . . . ” Emily began to protest.

Rolling her eyes and hugging her sister tighter, Charlotte spoke over Emily’s words. “Don’t ‘Charlie’ me, just promise, or I’ll pack up and Chuck and I will go with you.”

Emily wanted to laugh at her sister’s tenacity and her unique way of resolving the situation. Lightly bobbing her head against her sister’s shoulder, she replied, “Okay, I’ll try.”

Curling her lips in a small but genuine smile, Charlotte knotted her pinky with her sister’s and kissed her soft wet cheek, like she used to do when they were kids. “Thanks sissy. Now sleep.”

A
REPETITIVE,
annoying noise woke Emily from her pleasant dreams, leaving her disoriented. She fussed over her iPhone trying to silence the alarm, until, at some point, her brain decided to wake up and notice that the annoying sound was coming from the doorbell.