The Twist

The next day, opportunity struck. Liam announced he had to go to the gas station—the "boundary," as he called it—to get fuel for the generator and groceries.

"I'll be back in forty minutes," he told her, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of rebellion. "Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone."

As soon as the truck’s taillights disappeared into the treeline, Chloe moved. She ignored the screaming pain in her leg. She went straight to the heavy oak door of his study—the only room in the house he kept locked.

She didn't have a key, but she had a history. Before the "accident," before the amnesia, Chloe had dated men who locked doors. She knew how to open them. She grabbed a bobby pin from her hair and a small tension wrench she’d fashioned from a paperclip found in a drawer.

It took three agonizing minutes. The tumbler clicked.

She pushed the door open. The room was sparse. A desk, a chair, and a wall of monitors showing camera feeds of the property. He was watching everything.

She went to the desk. In the top drawer, buried under a stack of utility bills, she found it. Her phone.

It wasn't destroyed. The screen was cracked, but it was in one piece.

She pressed the power button. *Please have battery. Please.*

The Apple logo appeared. She let out a sob of relief.

When the phone booted up, it buzzed with a week’s worth of notifications. Missed calls. Texts. But she ignored them, scrolling back to the date of the accident.

She opened her dating app. *Spark.*

There was a message thread at the top. The user's name was **Liam\_Arch**.

Her breath hitched. So his name *was* Liam. Maybe she was wrong? Maybe they really were dating?

She opened the chat.

* Thursday, 6:00 PM (Night of the accident)*

**Liam\_Arch:** I’m at the diner. Wearing a blue jacket. I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’m not as scary as my profile pic lol.

**Liam\_Arch:** You close? The rain is getting bad out there.

**Chloe:** Almost there. GPS says 10 mins.

**Liam\_Arch:** Drive safe. Can’t wait to finally meet you.

Chloe stared at the screen. *Can't wait to finally meet you.*

They hadn't been dating for six months. They hadn't met at a farmers market. They were strangers. She was driving to their *first date* when she crashed.

He had found her. He must have been the first one on the scene. He saw a vulnerable woman, unconscious, and he decided to take her. To play house. To steal a life he hadn't earned.

A noise outside shattered her realization. Tires crunching on gravel.

He was back early.