I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Mrs. Servson insisted on taking me shopping for clothes when she saw what I brought back from my house. Just as well. My clothes don't fit any more. The time spent here, though relatively short, has been enough to bring me back up to a healthier weight. It's been roughly four weeks since I moved in with Milan, and one since I went to see my mother. She met me at the coffee shop yesterday.

There isn't much to tell about in that area. She got mad and refused to go to rehab. I expected that. We tried to reason with her. She yelled. I pleaded. She solidly refused and said she wasn't going to speak to me until I found some common sense. After that, she handed me her new address and told me that when I was smarter, I could come home.

I went home to Milan in tears.

Dejection sinks through my whole body, starting from the lump in my throat and trickling down to my toes. Tears push past my lashes as I continue to stare at myself in the full-length mirror. Everything here would be perfect if it weren't for the looming shadow my mother and step-father present.

Apparently, my mom made at least one right move. She married money. You wouldn't know it to look at Petre, but he's very well-off. Well enough off to afford a lawyer good enough to get the charges and warrant dropped and expunged. Unfortunately, this means that he's now free to come after me.

Well, he won't be able to make me do anything in a week. He probably knows that, which is why it's imperative that I stay hidden from his sight if he comes looking. It's imperative that I'm not here when he comes knocking. Because if I am, he'll be able to haul me away with him. Legally, he has jurisdiction, and I can't deny him because I'm still a minor.

He's gotten all of the abuse and harassment charges dropped, so he can do it again if anyone intervenes. I don't even believe in the protection of the legal system anymore. They're too corrupted to help me. I'm just one girl in the scheme of things, so why should they care?

I straighten up, brushing away the tears, and smooth down the dress I'm wearing. It's a light baby blue with white lace and little swirls of bling on it to emulate snow and ice. Trying to smile, I remember that this is a good day. After today, I only have to evade my step-dad for six days. School's out now, so that's going to be harder, but the Servsons will protect me.

"You look beautiful," Milan whispers, coming up behind me in the hallway.

I turn to look at him. "You think so?"

"I know so. My brother's really excited to meet you, and so is his fiancée."

I stare at the floor, a blush creeping over my cheeks. "What if they don't like me?" I mumble.

"They will!" Milan touches my arm lightly with an encouraging smile. "You're too sweet to dislike, Meri. They're waiting downstairs, and they couldn't be more excited about this. I promise. Anyway, I'm going to be right there with you."

Smiling, I give him a tentative hug. "Thanks."

He takes my hand when I move away, and we walk downstairs together.

***

"Milan's told us so much about you," Milan's brother says with a smile.

I duck my head and move closer to Milan. "Has he?" My cheeks grow hot again.

"Sorry... I should introduce myself. I'm Min." He extends his hand to me.

Shyly, I shake his hand and go back to hiding behind Milan.

He nudges me with his shoulder. "Min's not going to hurt you," he mumbles as we go into the living room where Min's fiancée is sitting.

"Is this Meri, Milan?" the young woman asks.

I look her over quietly. She's got straight, black hair, the tell-tale Asian slant to her eyes, and a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm, and I feel plain next to her. She's so pretty, and I wonder if Milan was just telling me I was pretty to make me feel good. As though he can sense my thoughts, Milan squeezes my fingers.

"Yeah, this is Meri," Milan says, pulling me into the room.

I pad across the fluffy white rug with him toward the rest of the family. His mother and father give me encouraging nods and smiles, and I feel a little better knowing that they all support me. Their son, Min, is nice too. It's just hard for me to acclimate to new people no matter how nice they are. "Hi," I whisper when she comes over.

"I'm Zhilan, Min's fiancée. It's wonderful to meet you," she says, her voice soft and lilting with just a touch of a foreign accent.

I take her offered hand with a shy smile. "I'm Meri," I say, my voice a little bit louder now. "It's nice to meet you too."

"I love the dress, Meri," Zhilan motions to my outfit. "It really brings out the green in your eyes."

Blushing, I look down and fiddle with the lace at my throat. "T-thank you..."

Milan wraps an arm around my waist and leads me to a corner of the room where we can still interact with the others, but I'm able to stay somewhat sheltered from view. The others pay close attention to me for a while, but slowly they just let me interact as I want. They never exclude me; I feel completely welcomed by Milan's brother and Zhilan. But I hang back, just watching.

As we sit there, Milan keeps his fingers interlaced with mine. He makes certain that I'm included, but it's not really necessary. His brother and future sister-in-law are both as attentive as he and his parents are.

After a while, I grow weary. Dinner still sits warm in my stomach; we ate before Min and Zhilan arrived. Milan says nothing as I scoot off the ledge surrounding the fireplace and lay my head in his lap. His fingers automatically begin playing with strands of my hair. No one says anything to either of us as I struggle to keep my eyes open.

The fire warms my back and arms as I stay still, resting against Milan. Some might say that I've trusted him and his family too quickly, but I don't think so. I've been mistreated my whole life, and I've learned to tell when people have ulterior motives. Milan doesn't have an ill-intentioned bone in his body, and neither do his parents.

So I don't feel uncomfortable as I let myself drift off to sleep with everyone still there and Milan's fingers toying with my hair.

***

I wake with a start, breathing hard and struggling to keep the tears at bay. Sweat trickles down my back, and my hair is damp with it. The fire has long since died out, and I'm lying in the living room with my head cushioned on Milan's chest. It seems that both of us fell asleep. No one had the heart to move us, or we'd both be in our rooms by now.

Sighing, I bury my face in his chest, trying not to cry. The nightmarish vision comes back over and over as I close my eyes.

Flashes of it flicker before my eyes as I lay still in Milan's arms.

"Please!" I plead. "Please don't do this..."

He laughed, his face morphing from its usual dark, olive color to a demonic red. His eyes burn like pits opening to Hell in his face, and I scream as his hot fingers grip my arms, tugging me closer. "You can hide, but you can't run. When will you learn that, doll?" he hisses.

"Please... I never meant..."

"You're never leaving me again. Now that your mother's gone, you're staying here. You're mine now, and no one can stop me," he cackled.

My gaze shifts to the left where my mother lies still, her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Her hair is matted, and her mouth is twisted in a grimace. Blood pools around her, and the knife that ended her is still stuck deep into her chest.

I close my eyes and let out a moan as the monster's burning fingers go to my waist, tugging me even closer to its body. Heat engulfs me, suffocating me and stealing all oxygen from my lungs. A soundless plea rises from my throat as the smell of sulfur and burning flesh assaults me. Finally, the scream bubbles out of me, giving release to my terror.

My eyes fly open again as I fight off a wave of nausea.

Milan's arms tighten around me, and I suddenly want nothing more than a breath of fresh air and escape. Quietly, I slip out of his arms, trying not to wake him. He stirs slightly, mumbles something, and rolls over, falling asleep again.

With a relieved sigh, I pad into the kitchen and over to the front door. Snow flurries outside, illuminated by the porch light. It doesn't matter what the weather's like. My chest tightens, and the walls seem to fall in on me as I grab my jacket from the hook by the door, put on shoes, and slip outside.

Shivers assail me as I clutch my jacket closer and sit down on the steps. Flurries fall quickly, dusting my hair in white flakes and coating my feet. My tears slip down my cheeks, cooling rapidly and freezing. Covering my mouth, I double over and sob.

How can I stay here knowing what Petre might do to this family? He hates me with a vengeance for eluding him. Now that he has the legal rights to me, I can't protest if he comes. How can I hold out for another week?

The nightmares started coming as soon as there were complications bringing Petre in. I've been having them ever since, and they're getting worse. At first, there was just a lot of yelling and hitting when I dreamed of being taken back to his house. Then it grew worse, ending in my mom dying. Sometimes I watched him kill every one of the people who have ever cared about me at all, including my mother. Others it was just us in a dark room, and the abuse he came up with left scars in my mind despite the fact that it wasn't even real.

I hate this. He shouldn't have such a hold over me anymore. I'm almost free from his legal hold, and he doesn't have a physical hold anymore. My mom's sided with him already, and I know I've lost her to him as well. I can't see her anymore; Petre won't let me, and she refuses to speak to me when I call her.

Maybe I should go back. Maybe my mom was right. It's possible that we can be one big, happy family if I come back. Perhaps Petre won't hurt me. Perhaps he won't try to finish what he initiated in the kitchen the day Milan took me to his house for an indefinite amount of time. You're lying to yourself, you know. He wants you for more than just the position of daughter. He's managed to keep even your mom in the dark for the last six months about how he treats you. He gets away with touching in all sorts of inappropriate ways already. Do you really believe he won't take that next step and force himself on you if you go back? I close my eyes, trying to force back the bile rising in my throat. If only my inner voice wasn't so logical. It makes it so hard to do what's right for others because I want to run away from the right thing, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I don't want to hurt anymore. I'm tired of making this kind of decision.

My fingers slip into my jacket pocket and pull out the address on the paper my mom gave me at the coffee shop. I stare down at the scribbled writing with tears rolling down my cheeks. Finally, I look up toward the sky and stare at the stars. I need answers. I need help... I think. I can't keep putting Milan at risk... I... I love him too much to do that, I finally think, admitting to myself what I've been ignoring for weeks. It's been a sneaky, insinuating kind of love. I didn't even realize it was creeping up on me until too late. Perhaps, if I knew, I would've pushed it out. Liar. You would've been scared witless, but you wouldn't have been able to push it out.

My breath comes out in harsh, ragged pants, sending plumes of steam into the cold night air. Street lamps illuminate the plowed road and snow banks that cut through the idyllic town. If I could stay here, I would. But for Milan's sake, I have to go.

Getting up, I walk down the steps and across the yard to the road. My boots crunch softly on the snow, grinding it up and leaving powdery footprints on the blacktop. With a quiet, stifled sob, I look back at the house where I have found shelter and love. I can't taint the sanctuary any further. It's been a wonderful haven for me the last month, but it's temporary.

My heart breaks as I turn my back on it and stare down at the crumpled paper in my hand. Can I really do this? Can I really leave this place behind and go back to the hellish existence I had before? Can I do it willingly?

I crumple to my knees in the middle of the empty road and break down in sobs. You have to go. Go now before you can't.

A door creaks open, and I gulp down the sobs, making myself stand on wobbling feet. Without waiting another moment, I push forward. Numb step after numb step. I stumble down the road, shoving the paper back into my pocket. Wrapping my arms around myself, I keep pressing onward, intent on reaching my goal.

***

An hour later, I'm nearly frozen with cold, but I've reached my goal. I stand at the bottom of a hill, staring up at the mansion on top. Disbelieving, I stare at the brightly lit place then back down at the paper. Going closer to a street lamp, I stare down at it. The scribbled address must be wrong.

Surely this cheerful, well manicured estate can't belong to Petre. How can it? He frequents places like the bar where my mom worked. If he's this rich, why would he do that? But the address is correct. It's definitely the right one.

My legs wobble as I step closer to the stairs beside the driveway. They're cut neatly into the hillside and built solidly with granite. My boots clomp heavily against the stone as I take two of the steps.

An engine roars in the stillness of the night and then cuts off. Headlights join the street lamps beside me, and I pause, wondering if it's Petre or my mom coming into the driveway. But when I turn to look, I see Milan's little white car pulling up.

I freeze, staring at him as he parks and rolls down the passenger's window.

"Meri, don't do it," he pleads.

I continue to stare, not sure what to think. The address... But he doesn't have the address. How could he know where to look for me? I never told him that my mom gave me the address. I just told him that she didn't want to see me again. He knows that I call her a lot, and he knows she never answers.

Snow swirls in a sudden gust, and the car disappears along with the haunting plea he just cried. Shivering, I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again. No car. I feel so sleep and disoriented. Warmth seems to cocoon me and coax me to lay down. Obeying, I stumble up to the front door and collapse. Sweet, heavy darkness coats my vision, bloating out the door and the lights on the porch as I let my head fall to my arm.

As I finally succumb to the darkness, I hear the door swing open and feel rough hands running over my body before picking me up. Then I feel weightless as we start to move. Next thing I know, everything's gone in a flood of blackness, and I lose all awareness of my surroundings.