TERESA'S P.O.V.
It had been two years since my world flipped itself over, shook me by the ankles, and left me dangling. Two years of pretending I didn't know Adrian and his friends weren't exactly running on good old human DNA. Two years of keeping my head down, raising my twins, and trying to figure out how the heck to break out of this gilded cage.
Well, maybe gilded is underselling it. Try
gold-plated with diamond trim, haunted by the faint smell of despair, and—oh yeah—occasionally blood-dripping-from-the-walls. Fancy, right?
