Crash.

  Broken plates and empty bottles pooled together on the floor.

  Her pain had no beginning and no end.

  A girl, just fourteen, with big dreams—waiting to find a way out of hell and into paradise.

  Paradise.

  A place without hurt.

  Where she wouldn’t have to cover bruises or fake a smile, hoping compliance would make the punishment pass.

  There was always a punishment.

  Always something she had done wrong.

  Always a reason to strike.

  And of course, it was her fault.

  He told her it was her fault.

  If she would just listen, he wouldn’t have to do it.

  He’d told her once. No—twice. Why should he have to repeat himself?

  His reasons were weak at best. A perfect reflection of who he truly was.

  A bartender who used his job to mask his addiction.

  A man who only knew how to hurt.

  Her mother escaped him once.

  When Jen was only five or six, her mother leapt through a window—searching for a way out.

  She couldn’t take her daughter with her.

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  Where she was going, you couldn’t come back from.

  Only five or six, and she saw it.

  A woman flying like an angel, a smile on her face as she fell.

  That wasn’t paradise.

  It couldn’t be.

  If it was, then what was the point?

  So she made a plan.

  Sit back.

  Wait.

  Blend in.

  Minimize the damage.

  Say what he wanted to hear and make it through Tuesday.

  On Tuesday, he’d be too far gone to hear or see a thing.

  It was his next day off, and he always celebrated a day off.

  That night, she would leave.

  She’d escape with her stash of cash—stolen dollar by dollar on nights when he was too drunk to notice.

  She would take the train and disappear.

  Cities away.

  States away.

  Countries, if she had to.

  Paradise could wait.

  She just had to survive first.

  Sadly, to her dismay, it could never be so simple

  Maybe it was bad luck.

  Maybe something cruel, conjured by the devil himself.

  She hadn’t even opened the door before he woke up.

  Crash.

  She hit the floor, breaking a lamp on the way down.

  And in the confusion, she realized something far too late.

  He was sober.

  “I drink because I want to,” he said.

  “Not because I have to.”

  Red eyes. A sly smile.

  “You don’t think I noticed your little escape plan? Silly girl. Your only job is to lie there and find a way to be useful. Why would you need to leave? This should be your haven. Your paradise.”

  How could someone so happy be so evil?

  How could joy be given to someone so dark while despair waited for the innocent?

  With a swollen jaw and blurred vision, she forced herself to stand.

  She looked him in the eyes.

  And he looked right past her.

  Then above her.

  Beside her.

  Confusion crossed his face as he stumbled, searching for where she had gone.

  She was gone.

  Invisible.

  But she could still see him.

  Still hear him promise he would find her, bring her back, make them a family again—wearing that same smile that revealed the truth behind his words.

  This moment was all she needed.

  It was time to go.

  No one could keep her now.

  No one could hide her away.

  No one could ever trap her again.