“Get out of my car.”

The words came sharp and final.

Before they could react, the passenger door flew open and the twins were shoved onto the rain-slick highway.

Cold water soaked through their clothes instantly.

“But it’s raining,” the boy cried, stumbling. “Where do we go?”

“Figure it out,” their stepmother snapped.

The door slammed.

The engine roared.

And just like that—she was gone.

The twins stood frozen under the storm.

Lily and Noah Carter. Twelve years old. Alone.

They huddled beneath a crooked tree, shivering, clutching each other as thunder rolled overhead.

Headlights cut through the rain.

A long black car slowed beside them.

Too smooth. Too expensive.

The window rolled down.

Lily leaned forward, squinting through the rain—

Then gasped.

“…Grandma?”

Everything changed in that moment.

That morning had started like every other.

With fear.

Lily woke to the sound of a key turning in the lock outside her bedroom.

“Up. Now,” came the voice of Diana Carter—cold, controlled, already irritated.

It was 6:00 a.m.

Always 6:00 a.m.

Always the same.

Lily pushed herself upright on the thin mattress, her body aching from hunger. At twelve, she looked smaller than she should—too thin, too pale.

Before standing, she reached beneath the mattress and pulled out her only secret:

A worn notebook.