Chương 1: Start Reading

1995 (Nikolas - 5 YEARS OLD) My back slammed into the cold floor, the impact driving the air from my lungs in a sharp gasp. My vision swam. I blinked through tears and cupped my cheek, skin burning where her hand had struck. Mom loomed over me, arms crossed, lip curled in a sneer that twisted my stomach.

"Stop that sniveling, Nikolas." Her voice dripped with disdain.

"You're going to be a man one day. Men don't cry." She sniffed, like something sour lingered in the air.

"Besides, this is your own fault. You know better than to speak unless you're spoken to. A few days without dinner and a bruised cheek will be the least of your worries if you try that again. You hear me?" I nodded fast, not giving her the chance to accuse me of not listening. Last time that'd happened… A shiver crawled down my spine. Old bruises throbbed like she'd given them to me yesterday instead of weeks ago.

"Good." She turned toward the door.

"Now be quiet and take your punishment like a man." She paused, eyes flicking down my body.

"You could afford to lose a few pounds anyway, chunky brat." Her gaze cut into my stomach, her lip peeling back the same way the neighbor's dog did before it snapped. I flinched, curling an arm over my belly. She scoffed.

"Be quiet. Maybe then I'll let you out in time for dinner tomorrow." Her voice sharpened.

"And take this as a warning about what happens to nosy little boys who ask too many questions." Oh. I'd almost forgotten what got me in trouble. Mom, where do all my friends you invite over go? It hadn't felt like a bad question. But she hated when I spoke without permission. …But I had permission now, right? Before she could leave, I swallowed around the knot in my throat.

"Where is Sarah, Mom? She was crying a lot yesterday." Crying to go home. Begging to be allowed home. But... that didn't make sense. Why wouldn't Mom bring her back? Mom never liked me, but she liked the kids at the park–smiled at them, laughed with them, touched their shoulders gently. To them, she was perfect. So why wouldn't she let Sarah go home? Tears burned my eyes again. I blinked hard, barely catching the smile spreading across Mom's face—a sharp, proud thing that made something heavy sink into my chest.

She didn't notice. She leaned against the doorframe, smile widening. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"She went where all your other little friends are," she said lightly.

"And that's all you need to know." Her eyes hardened.

"Ask about her, or any of them, again and I'll do far worse than a little slap. Got it?" The weight in my stomach became unbearable. I nodded. Another bruise wasn't worth it. She left the door cracked. Through the narrow sliver, I watched her cross to her desk. She pulled out her familiar journal, scribbled something quickly, then tucked it away. From her pocket, she drew a thick wad of green bills. Her smile sharpened."' Bout time the brat earned his keep." My breath caught. Her eyes snapped up, locking onto mine.

In an instant the money vanished into the desk with the journal.

"You looking at something, brat?" Her tone dared me to say yes. I shook my head hard and pushed the door shut. I hadn't stepped outside. I hadn't moved. Would she punish me anyway? Her satisfied chuckle seeped through the wood. My heart hammered so loudly I was sure she could hear it. Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. They stopped just outside my room. Her shadow stretched thin beneath the door. I didn't breathe. After the longest minute of my life, the footsteps moved away.

"I'm heading out for a smoke, boy. You know the rules. Step outside that room and you'll regret it." I bit my tongue. She hadn't asked a question. If I answered, she'd turn around and-. Her steps faded. The front door slammed. I sagged, one hand pressed to my racing heart, the other scrubbing uselessly at tears.

'Bout time the brat earned his keep. What did that mean? Did it have something to do with my friends disappearing? The sinking feeling returned, heavier than before. I pressed my palms into my eyes. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. A small, shaking part of me whispered that I needed to tell someone. But who? Mom had nearly lost her mind the one time I talked to another adult at the park. She might make me disappear like Dad if I tried again. But Sarah… Sally… all the others… What if they needed help?

What if they were hurt because I did nothing? Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I swallowed the sob clawing up my throat.

"Please," I whispered.

"Anyone… I just want my friends back." The words slipped out before I could stop them, half hoping no one heard, half praying someone did. But what if the next adult was even worse? My thoughts spiraled, fear chasing itself like a trapped animal-. Until a voice, soft and startled, echoed inside my mind. Kid… who are you, and how are you in my head?