The Cellar (The Cellar #1)

“Violet, if there’s one thing I do not like, it is people being ungrateful.” Her mouth dropped open again, and she raised her eyebrows. This girl had a face of a million expressions.

“Now please, allow me to explain how things are to be done.” Her eyes widened and she nodded numbly. “Good. I will take care of you. I’ll take care of everything. In return, I expect you to keep your home clean and tidy at all times. I cannot abide dirt and mess; it’s disgusting.” Her eyes widened to the point where they began to water. “You’re to shower twice a day—germs spread fast.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yes, okay,” she whispered.

“I will provide you with everything you need—food, toiletries, entertainment. We’re a family, Violet, and soon you won’t be alone here.”

She gasped quietly. “I won’t?”

“No, you won’t. I know this is a lot to take in. It’s very new and very exciting. We will both need an adjustment period, so for a few days, just get used to your surroundings. On Monday, we’ll test-drive our routine. Okay?”

I could tell she had a million other questions but now was not the time. “I’ll let you get some rest and settle in. Oh, would you like the tour or can you show yourself around?”

“I can show myself,” she whispered, sitting rigid on the sofa.

“Very good.” There was just the living area in the main part of their home, with a bedroom, bathroom, and our room to the side of the living room area. It was quaint, perfect for my four flowers.

Saturday, March 12th (2005)

“Good morning, Violet,” I said, as I walked down the stairs. Nerves bubbled in my stomach. I wanted her to be okay and for everything to be all right. I had explained everything to her yesterday, but I wasn’t sure if she fully understood. She sat on the sofa huddled into a ball. Seeing her like that reminded me of how she used to sit on the street. “Are you all right?”

She looked up at me, gaping as if I had grown a second head. “I’m fine,” she finally replied. I smiled wide, my heart soaring. She is mine.





13


SUMMER

Saturday, July 31st (Present)

I woke up and my head felt fuzzy, like I’d been wasted the night before. My throat was sore from crying so much. I could still feel his hands on my hair—it made my skin crawl. I didn’t want him to touch me ever again.

“Lily, are you okay?” Rose asked and sat down on the bed.

Summer. “Fine,” I lied.

She nodded and broke into a warm smile. “You need to have a shower. Clover will be down for breakfast in half an hour.” I should just let him kill me.

Sighing in defeat, I got up. I didn’t want to give up. I was stronger than that. The image of a huge reunion with Lewis and my family made me hold on to hope that I’d get out. Whatever was going to happen down here, I could go along with it because I would eventually get out and go home. Think of this as if it’s happening to someone else. It’s happening to Lily, and I’m not Lily.

I grabbed the clothes that were hanging on the front of my wardrobe and went to the bathroom. Black boot-cut trousers and a light blue shirt with matching cardigan. Even though the clothes looked fairly modern, they still made me look older—in my twenties. They were a size too big too, but that was good; it meant my figure wasn’t shown off. I didn’t want him looking at me.

After taking a quick shower, I dressed and tried to mentally prepare myself to put on the act again. I used to spend ages in the shower, but now they barely lasted beyond five minutes. The natural-looking makeup was my next step. What I really wanted to do was plaster a ton of it on my face just because he didn’t want me to. How could he think he got a say in how I looked? I didn’t even let Lewis determine how I wore my hair or makeup.

“Lily,” Rose called through the door at the same time I heard the creaking of the cellar door opening. “Come on.”

Panic gripped me. I swung the door open and stepped into the main room. I didn’t want him to come look for me if I wasn’t there when he entered. He walked down the stairs with confidence. It threw me every day how normal he looked. Weren’t people like him supposed to look like monsters? There should have been something physical that gave him away—but he looked normal.

“Good morning, Flowers,” he said cheerfully. I replied, saying good morning instantly. I did it at the same time as Rose and Poppy, so he wouldn’t single me out again. He sat down in his usual seat and waved his hand, gesturing for me to sit opposite him. I held my breath and sat down.