Beneath the Surface (Sugarlake #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

LILY

I remember the wind.

The house we were in was sturdy, but that night, I thought it might tumble down. There wasn’t any storm, no pitter-pattering of raindrops against the roof’s shingles. No thunder to accompany the hole being ripped open in the middle of my chest.

But there was wind.

And it was howling.

Thinking back, I like to pretend it was Mother Earth’s way of crying, guttural groans against the brick, while a meaty hand that smelled like beef jerky and stale cigarettes muffled my voice.

Not that I would have made any noise anyway. My older brother, Chase, was right next door, and I knew that if I woke him up, he’d come charging in, getting us both in trouble.

And more than anything else, I was terrified of being separated. Chase always told me it was us against the world. Forever. But I heard our caseworker say we were one of the lucky ones, that usually siblings were split apart.

If I didn’t have Chase, then I wouldn’t have anyone.

So instead of letting out a sob, my fingers dug deeper into my stuffed bunny rabbit, gripping it as tight as possible, while my foster father stole my innocence.

I was nine years old.

We were with them for over a year.

I’ve blocked out a lot from that time, and the memories I do have, I’ve doused in black tar and liquor, but there’re some things that just can’t be erased—tattoos that get etched beneath the surface, carved so deep they brand your soul.

And I remember the wind.