A fresh silver seam ran around the latch where Marcus had welded it shut.
Her key had controlled my life for weeks, but that night it could not free me even if she suddenly decided to pretend she wanted to.
“She had that key every day,” I told the officer. “She decided when I ate. She decided when I drank.”
Discover more
Graduation planning guide
Prom night planning
Stepfamily dynamics guide
Marcus’s mother stared at me with the same cold expression she had worn whenever she stood outside the bars.
Then she looked toward the officers and softened her face.
“My son made me do things,” she said. “I was afraid of him too.”
Writers Resources
One of the real dinner guests had followed the noise to the basement stairs.
She stood behind the officers with one hand over her mouth, looking from the gold key to the cage and then to the empty apple tray on the floor.
Only minutes earlier, she had been eating at Marcus’s table while he explained that I was visiting family.
