Poppy sighed, getting back to business. “Anyway, you need to leave your hair natural.” Like I could just pop to the shops for some bloody hair dye! “He doesn’t like when you mess with it too much, and you should only wear a small amount of makeup—easy on the mascara.” I wanted to throw up. I was being told how to dress. I’d never been told that.
Rose came back into the room and immediately fussed around, straightening her bedsheets and plumping the pillows. I watched her running her hands over the quilt, flattening it, and wondered if I would be doing that after three years. No. There was no way I would be down here longer than three days. I had people looking for me. This was temporary, and soon enough the police would find us. They would.
Taking a deep breath to clear my thoughts, I went to the bathroom to shower and get ready. There was no point in having a shower before bed and again in the morning, but I wasn’t going to argue over that. I let the water spray over my body for a few minutes and then got out.
Standing in front of the steamy mirror I could almost pretend I was at home, getting ready for a date with Lewis or a night out with friends. I brushed mascara over my eyelashes and worried how much I should use. Not too much that I looked like a hooker, but enough so my eyelashes stood out. Would he punish me for wearing too much or too little? Wow, yesterday my biggest worry was which top I should wear to the gig.
I dressed in the clothes Rose gave me and dried my hair. Looking back in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I looked exhausted and I felt it too. Dark circles under my eyes made me look so much older than sixteen.
Dropping my head, I turned away. Looking at myself was too depressing. I hadn’t even been down here one day, and I already felt like a different person—like Lily. Poppy passed me as I walked out of the bathroom. It was her turn to get ready for him.
I stopped in the living room area and watched Rose frying bacon and eggs on the stove. She worked so efficiently, humming as she turned the bacon over. The scene reminded me of my mum making a full breakfast on a Sunday morning. My heart squeezed. What would Mum be doing now? Searching for me? Staring at her phone waiting for me to call or waiting by the front door? Not cooking, that was for sure. I wanted to go back home. I’d even let Mum hug me without pulling away and rolling my eyes.
Rose grabbed a plastic spatula and flipped the eggs over. Everything in the kitchen had been chosen carefully. In fact, everything in the whole cellar had been chosen carefully. There was nothing sharp or dangerous. Nothing we could use to escape or hurt him with. The only thing I could think of was poisoning him. There were plenty of cleaning products. But how could you not smell the powerful scent of bleach? And, even if we did poison him, there was no guarantee he would die down here. If he died in the house, we would eventually starve to death. It seemed hopeless without Rose, Violet, and Poppy on my side, but I wasn’t going to give up. There was a way—there had to be—and I just had to be patient and play along with this shit until I could figure it out.
I sat down on the sofa and curled up in a little ball. We couldn’t be too far away from Long Thorpe; we didn’t drive for long. The police would check this place out. That’s what they did when someone went missing, right? They did the door-to-door thing, asking residents if they’d seen anything. I’d definitely seen that on the news before.
A door opened, making me jump and my heart race. My shoulders sagged in relief when I realized it was the bathroom door and not the cellar. Poppy briefly smiled at me and went to help dish up breakfast. I wondered if Rose secretly hated it down here and just put on a really good show. Was she so scared of him that she wouldn’t be honest in case it got back to him, or did she really think it’s all right down here? The last plate was placed on the table and they both smiled. The food smelled good, and I was so hungry, but the thought of eating made my stomach turn.
The creaky sound from the cellar door echoed through the room and I froze. He was coming. I took a deep breath and clenched my shaking hands together. Keep it together.
“Good morning, Flowers,” he said and smiled warmly as he came down the stairs. He was holding a beautiful bunch of pink lilies, the same as the ones on the kitchen table but bigger, matching the size of Rose’s, Violet’s, and Poppy’s flowers. I sank back into the sofa as he approached me. “For you, Lily,” he said, holding the flowers out. My skin crawled like I was being attacked by ants. Don’t talk to me.
I looked to Rose, pleading with her to help. She nodded toward the flowers once, and I knew I had to accept them. Just play along, Summer. I stood up and slowly reached my trembling hand out and took the lilies from him. “Thank you,” I said quietly and stepped back, hitting the side of the sofa.