The Magic of Light

Prologue

Sawyer

(Age Fourteen)

Plink. Plink. Plink. The water dripped, resembling teardrops, from the leaky kitchen faucet into the stainless-steel sink basin. My heart raced as I quieted my breathing. The lock was harder to pick than I expected, but once it was open, I could escape to the bus stop in the next town over. Just a little more and it should open.

I gently shifted the straightened hairpin, willing my hands to stop shaking . Come on . As my fear of being caught grew, a bead of sweat trickled down the pearls of my spine, and an unconscious shiver overtook my body at the sensation. I stilled as I heard a creaking sound in the distance. Blood rushed in my ears.

I can’t get caught.

I didn’t know if I’d survive getting caught. Once I found what I was searching for, then I would be free. As free as I could be until they shipped me off to the next monster, because I knew they would find me at some point. They always did.

I had made this arrangement work for three months when I should have left after two weeks. The reason I had stayed was for the six-year-old twins, Anna and Justin. Their freckled noses scrunched and their square teeth that were a little too big for their faces shined when they smiled. I had made it my mission to make them smile. They were sweet, unhardened from the life that stretched ahead of them. A life I knew all too well. Soon enough, they would build walls, and everything wouldn’t hurt as it did now. The walls they most needed were the ones they would build around their hearts. Walls that blocked out any possibility of light. Fortresses that would keep them safe from the people who made them feel . Because sometimes the expectation of good was more heartbreaking than always expecting the impending downfall of bad luck.

I knew bad luck better than anyone. My life was a series of bad luck draws, broken promises, and moments where I simply fell through the cracks. I once thought the impenetrable walls I had built were the saddest part of my life. However, I have found safety in their protection, and it didn’t matter if there was any light or not. I understood the darkness, or rather, I understood that darkness could not be understood and, therefore, it could not be trusted. There was no gray area with darkness. All that mattered was that I survived another day, because every day I endured was one step closer to freedom.

I had suffered in this hellish place for three long months only in order to prolong the warmth of sunshine for the twins. They had gained three more months of childhood, and I was stripped of three more months of mine. But when he had taken the only thing I had ever cared about, I knew I’d risk everything to get it back. I would willingly give over my small accumulation of mismatched belongings—everything except this. It was the only thing I had ever loved. It was the only thing that was truly mine. It had been gifted to me by the only person who had ever loved me, and it was behind this lock. I wanted to scream in frustration and pound my fists on the wall.

The silence returned, and I worked diligently on the lock with my sweaty hands. After a couple more minutes of working, I finally opened the latch that had been holding the lock shut. The moonlight illuminated the space, but not clearly enough for me to see into the cabinet, I reached my hand inside and felt around. There was an object that resembled Anna’s tattered baby doll and another that had to be Justin’s baseball from his dad. Their parents had been killed in a wreck, and when no extended family had been located, they ended up here with me.

I stretched my arm as far as I could, standing on my tiptoes as my fingers skimmed across a stack of papers along with something that resembled a thick envelope. I withdrew the envelope and saw a stack of money stuffed inside. I wanted to vomit, knowing that money was intended to buy me new shoes, but I immediately replaced it. I knew the last thing I needed was to be on the run with something that wasn’t “mine,” even if it had been intended for me. As helpful as it would be, it wasn’t worth the risk.

I continued my search and finally found what I was seeking. As I pulled it out, it caught the light and reflected a dull shine. At that moment, I realized we were the same. I also only had a flicker of light left in me, and everything else was the grit that kept me alive. I placed it in my pocket as anger burned through my chest. I wanted to place the baseball and baby doll on the counter, but I knew that would only result in punishment for little Anna and Justin. I wouldn’t let Mr. Phillips hurt them how he’d hurt me. If I could get free, I would tell anyone who listened about the hell it was to live with the Phillips, but until then, I had to get out.

I locked the cabinet so no one would be the wiser and quietly tiptoed toward the door. My small backpack was slung over one shoulder, filled with only the things I brought. I paused at the doorway, brushed a kiss to my thin bruised fingers, and pressed them against the chipped paint of the doorframe. I was too scared to kiss Anna and Justin’s soft freckled foreheads, for fear of waking them up, so this would have to do. I willed their lives to turn out better than mine. One day, I would do everything in my power to protect kids like Anna and Justin, kids that were . . . just like me.