best counter
Search
Report & Feedback

Chapter no 17

Do You Remember?

Itโ€™s at the tip of my tongue. Some memory that I can almost grasp but not quite. I can almost hear the words coming out of my mouth. Itโ€™s something I said before. To somebody else. In the past.

I think Graham is secretly drugging me.

That white film at the bottom of my glass. Why is there a white film in my glass? It was just water. Wasnโ€™t it?

Graham is drugging me, Harry. Every night. Youโ€™ve got to help me. Please.

โ€œTess?โ€

Graham is staring across the table at me. Thereโ€™s concern in his blue eyes, but thereโ€™s also something else. Something menacing.

I think of the digits scribbled on my arm. The person who contacted me this morning to warn me about him.ย Harry. It wasnโ€™t just my imagination. Those messages were real. Now I understand why Graham took my phone away.

โ€œIโ€™m going to get more water,โ€ I blurt out.

Before he can protest, I jump out of my seat and stumble to the kitchen. I nearly trip over my right foot, but I make it there. Graham disappeared into the kitchen with my phone. Itโ€™s got to be in here somewhere. And once I find it, I can call for help.

I open drawers haphazardly. Iโ€™m not even attempting to close them again. Whatโ€™s the difference? Heโ€™s going to know what Iโ€™ve been doing. Heโ€™s going to know it when he sees the phone. My only chance is to find it before he comes looking for me. And Iโ€™ve got to call the number on my arm. And hope Harry picks up.

Or maybe I should just call 911.

โ€œFor Godโ€™s sake, Tess, what the hell are you doing?โ€

Graham is standing at the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes wide behind his glasses. I yank open the drawer in front of me and look down, hoping my phone is inside. But itโ€™s mostly just rubber bands and pens.

โ€œTess?โ€

Ziggy is scraping at the back door. But he canโ€™t get in, and I canโ€™t get out, because the door is locked from the inside.

โ€œI asked you a question, Tess.โ€ He arches an eyebrow. โ€œWhat are you doing?โ€

โ€œNothing.โ€ My words are so slurred, it surprises me. Even if I found my phone and called for help, anyone would think I had a severe brain injury. And Graham has the paperwork to prove it. Nobody would believe my story. โ€œI was justโ€ฆโ€

โ€œTime for bed,โ€ he says firmly. โ€œYou need to go to bed right now.โ€

My eyes dart around the kitchen, trying to figure out my next move. My options are limited. I have no phone. No way to escape this house. What can I do?

โ€œIโ€ฆ I need the bathroom,โ€ I say. Graham grunts. โ€œFine. Go.โ€

I turn away from the kitchen counter. But before I do, I grab a pen from the drawer and stuff it into my pocket.

Once Iโ€™m inside the bathroom, I consider locking myself in here. But Iโ€™m not sure what that would accomplish, and anyway, it looks like Graham has had the foresight to remove the lock. He could come in here anytime he wants. Which means I donโ€™t have much time.

I pull up the sleeve of my sweater. The number I scrawled on it has partially been rubbed off so that I can no longer make out the digits. Even though it kills me, I have to wash the rest of it off with soap and water. If I put on a T- shirt to sleep in, the numbers will be visible. I canโ€™t let Graham see it.

If I leave myself a message, it has to be somewhere he wonโ€™t see.

I remember the word I found on myself this morning, on my upper thigh above where my oversized T-shirt ended.ย Find. I hadnโ€™t had a chance to see it before the shower washed it away. But clearly, Graham hadnโ€™t seen itโ€”leaving a message for myself there may be my best shot. Iโ€™ll have to keep it short. And Iโ€™ll have to hope that tomorrow morning I see the message before I wash it away.

My hands are shaking. Writing on my skin is difficult, especially since whatever Graham laced my water with is hitting me hard. I can hardly even keep my eyes open, much less write legibly. But Iโ€™ve got to try. Everything depends on this.

Thereโ€™s a knock on the door. โ€œTess? Are you okay?โ€ โ€œJust a second!โ€ I call back.

I finish writing what I need to say. The words are small, but I can read them. I can only hope that Iโ€™ll see them before they wash away in the shower tomorrow. I toss the pen in the garbage and yank my pants up just before Graham bursts through the door.

You'll Also Like