“And what did she do to ensure that happened?” the prosecutor asked.

“She hired Darrow to help her clear out the building,” Chloe said, a tear escaping her eye. “And when she realized Audrey and Liam were inside, she locked the side exit.”

A low murmur rippled through the gallery.

Beatrice did not flinch, but her jaw clenched, her fingers digging into the polished wood of the defense table.

“And what happened on the night you went missing, Chloe?” the prosecutor asked.

“I confronted her,” Chloe said, her voice cracking. “I told her I was going to the police. She and Darrow took me to the old hall. They tied me up. My mother told me she would make sure I never spoke to anyone again.”

I felt Liam’s grip tighten around my hand, his palm warm and solid.

When it was my turn to testify, I walked to the stand with my head held high.

I did not avoid looking at Beatrice.

I looked her directly in the eyes as I described the night of the fire, the heat of the flames, and the terrifying realization that we were trapped.