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After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground.
Chapter 1
Eliza POV:
I was born in captivity, the daughter of a monster who had stolen my mother eight years ago.
For eight years, Burt Mckenzie had made our lives a living hell. His fists and his venom were the only constants I had ever known.
But today, it was going to end. The plan I’d spent months whispering to my mother in the dark was simple: trade her antique silver locket for our freedom.
The locket was the only beautiful thing we owned. Heavy and cool, it felt like hope in my small, grimy hand. I stood under the flickering fluorescent lights of the desolate gas station, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and pine, and held it out to the state trooper. His eyes, kind but tired, widened just a fraction when he saw the delicate engraving on its surface.
He didn't take it. Instead, he knelt, his voice a low rumble. "Stay right here, sweetie. Don't move."
I watched him speak urgently into his radio, and a cold knot of fear tightened in my stomach. This wasn't how I'd imagined it. In my mind, he was supposed to take the locket, give us a ride, and we' d be free.
But this was better. Faster.
Within minutes, the quiet Appalachian road was swarming with black SUVs. Men in tactical gear, their faces grim and unreadable, poured out. They moved with a terrifying efficiency, storming the dilapidated compound I called home. I heard shouting, a splintering crash, and then a single, sharp sound that made the birds in the surrounding trees fall silent.
They brought my mother out. Eleanora. Her face was pale, her clothes were torn, but she was walking. She was safe. A wave of relief so powerful it almost buckled my knees washed over me. I took a step toward her, my mouth opening to call her name.
But she didn't see me. Her eyes, wide with a terror I knew all too well, were locked on something behind me. A man stepped out of the lead SUV. He was handsome, impossibly clean, and moved like he owned the very air he breathed.
"Nora," he breathed, his voice cracking.
My mother's composure shattered. A raw, wounded cry tore from her throat, and she ran, collapsing into his arms. He held her like she was made of glass, his face buried in her tangled hair. I stood frozen, a small, forgotten statue in the middle of the chaos. He was Derek Mccall. I knew the name. My captor, Burt Mckenzie, used to spit it like a curse.
My mother clung to him, her sobs shaking her entire body. She never once looked in my direction. She never once asked where I was.
In her whispers, she' d promised me, "We'll be together, Eliza. Always. Just you and me."
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