For the past thirteen days, she’d been kept in the hole, a dark, padded room where deprivation of the senses slowly drove her (genuinely) insane. She had been starved for contact, and had thought any interaction would do—until Fitzpervert drugged and photographed her.

This morning, he arranged her release from solitary confinement, followed by this outing. She wasn’t stupid; she knew he hoped to bribe her into accepting his mistreatment.

If Mom and Dad could see me now…. She bit back a sudden, choking sob. The young, sweet girl they’d loved was dead, the ghost somehow alive inside her, haunting her. At the worst times, she would remember things she had no business remembering.

Taste this, honey. It’ll be the best thing you’ve ever eaten!

A terrible cook, her mother. Saki had enjoyed tweaking recipes to “improve” them.

Did you see that? Another touchdown for the Sooners!

A die-hard football fan, her dad. He had attended O.U. in Oklahoma for three semesters, and had never cut those ties.

She could not allow herself to think about them, about her mother and father and how wonderful they’d been…and…oh, she couldn’t stop it from happening…. Her mother’s image formed, taking center stage in her mind. She saw a fall of hair so black the strands appeared blue, much like Annabelle’s own. Eyes uptilted and golden, much like Annabelle’s used to be. Skin a rich, creamy mix of honey and cinnamon and without a single flaw. Saki Miller—once Saki Tanaka—had been born in Japan but raised in Georgetown, Colorado.

Saki’s traditional parents had freaked when she and the white-as-can-be Rick Miller had fallen hopelessly in love and married. He’d come home from college on holiday, met her and moved back to be with her.

Both Annabelle and her brother were a combination of their parents’ heritages. They shared their mother’s hair and skin, the shape of her face, yet had their father’s height and slender build.