Enzo’s gone.
He has been. For almost three weeks.
He vanished. It’s like he wasn’t even here. I imagined him.
No.
He was real. He is very, very real. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be trapped in this f*****g, gorgeous beach house. I shouldn’t complain. I’m being treated better than I have ever been treated in my entire life. And that includes before I was kidnapped.
My father had nothing. And my mother died when I was little, leaving behind a legacy of hospital bills for us to spend our entire life paying off.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t know what my future holds. When I was living with my father in his trailer, I knew what my life would entail. I would live in the trailer with him, and clean yachts for a living. Until one day the debt collectors would come and demand
