Sacrificing Sapphire (Sapphire Dubois: Book #4)

Chapter 2

She stood in the doorway of Ghost's attic, her long dark hair falling down over her shoulders. She then looked down at Ghost with kind, confident eyes. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Ghost woke up from the sound of the truck's door slamming shut.

She shivered in the cold as she hobbled over to the boarded window and pressed her dirty hands against the wood, feeling the hunger burn her stomach. Her once yellow shirt, now brown and holey, pushed against the cold, leaking in from the window, as she put her eye to the crack in the wood.

She watched him pack his truck and knew. It was starting again.

She was happy he'd be gone for a few days—it was the only time she didn't have to be scared—but, she was also sad because unless the woman with the long dark hair and brave eyes from her dream was next to arrive, a new woman would come and die just like Mary Dunnigan, Susan Bills, Carrie Sutterway, and the others. She knew their names well because they'd shout until they didn't have the strength to shout anymore. Then, when they gave up, and gave in, it was over.

Ghost hated the word he used when he got back without them: accident. She was little, but she knew accidents were not on purpose.

Her own mommy died and it wasn't an accident either. It happened while Ghost was in the closet. That's where her mommy put her sometimes. "Be absolutely quiet," she'd say. "You're nothing but a ghost." Then she'd put the headphones on her and give her the tablet so she could watch her princess movies in the dark.

Ghost watched him get the last bag in the truck, then dragged her chained foot back to her spot, thinking about the one with the dark hair and fearless eyes. She first had the dream when Mary Dunnigan got here, but it was such a long time ago that the season had changed. Ghost was starting to doubt what kind of dream it was.

Sometimes, she had special dreams—dreams which came true. Other times, she had regular dreams or almost dreams. Now and then, she had wish-dreams. She would sit in her corner and pretend she was a princess like Cinderella or Tiana, who was on her shirt. The shirt used to be too big for her, but it cut in on her arms and neck now. Perhaps the woman with the long hair was an almost dream, or like her princess dream, nothing but a wish.

The door flew open so hard it smacked into the wall.

She slid her back to the protective, cold wood panel and as far from him as her chain allowed. Her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs.

She kept her wary eyes on him as he filled the bowls to their edge. This was all she got until he returned. She looked at the kibble, eager to eat it and stifle the hunger's bellow. The only upside of his terrible game was that she'd get to eat pot roast instead of kibble and drink soda instead of dusty water. Then there was the dessert, apple cobbler. Her mouth watered just thinking about it. She remembered when she would eat warm foods all the time before she was put in this attic.

He stood straight, kibble bag resting in his arm crease. "Behave yourself, Rosie."

She nodded. "Yes...sir?"

His mouth twitched at the word. She'd called him the wrong thing, again. It was so hard to know when she should call him sir, and when she shouldn't. Things weren't easy in the house of horrors. Rules changed, names changed, women showed up and vanished.

A long time ago, on that really good day at the amusement park, Ghost's mommy took her into a place called just that, the house of horrors. The darkness, the ghouls and skeletons taunting and screaming, was like walking through a nightmare. Then, they finally made it to the exit and everything was okay again. Now, Ghost was there all the time, and this house of horrors had no exit. She just went round and round, forever stuck, forever frightened.