Someone slapped my face. Not gentle taps either. I struggled to pry my eyelids open.
Dread soaked my brain as the unforgettable feeling of sedatives dragged my body's responses to a soul-shaking crawl. I knew this feeling. Hated this feeling.
Adrenaline surged through me for a brief moment, making my neurons fire like they were supposed to. My eyelids flew open as I tried to take in as much information as quickly as possible. I had to get out of here.
"You won't be able to escape this time, Willow," he said.
Ethan Embry Errington.
My ex-husband.
The serial killer.
"What do you want, Ethan?" I asked. The effort to form the words already taxing my slowed system.
"What I've always wanted, Willow. For you to help me heal people. You remember my work, don't you?" He moved over so
