Twenty-three
It was happening again.
Lily had hoped her days of being abducted were over, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. The men had grabbed her, laughing as she kicked at them when they took hold of her ankles and yanked her off her feet. She’d tried to hit out with fists and elbows, but a cold muzzle against her temple had instantly made her fall still. The image of Marianna, dead and lying in a pool of her own blood, was still at the front of her mind, and she didn’t want to be the next casualty.
The men carried her from the house. It was nighttime, and an endless stretch of stars flooded the sky above her. Their vehicles had been left on the outskirts of the property, beyond the line of pine trees. She tried not to look at the fallen bodies of the men on the outside of the wall
