TILLY
My head was in a chaotic headspace as I was marched back through the front doors. Warmth from the crackling fire greeted my stinging cheeks. The faint smell of garlic-roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread suffused the air inside the living space. It was quiet. Serene. A cozy, typical afternoon right before a storm. Faintly, I could hear muffled conversation coming from what I imagined was the kitchen.
I didn’t get a chance to soak any of the serenity up. The heavy weight of the man’s hand on my shoulder didn’t ease as he steered me up the stairs and back down the hallway.
We reached the familiar set of doors to the master bedroom. A cold sweat started to gather at the back of my neck. I turned, still clinging to the naive hope that someone on this island would help me.
“Pl
