4
Chapter Four
Marina
I hope in vain. When the dreams do come, though, they’re not about Armand.
“You need to stop being afraid of the basement, Marina, honey.” Dad’s voice sounds more annoyed than kind. The road we’re on weaves up the cliffside road to our estate on the mountaintop. The view of the drop-off normally makes me dizzy, but this time I don’t care.
I’m busy thinking about the incredibly cute mechanic that Dad and I left the Mercedes with. Off in the distance, the lights of Denver are flickering on in the growing dusk. But his mention of the basement sends a cold thread of fear through me.
“Sweetie, this is ridiculous. You just had some nightmares, like your therapist said. Just that and some sleepwalking. There’s nothing down in the basement to be afraid of.” Once again,
