Thaddeus burst through the door. He took one look at the scene and his eyes went red.

"Thaddeus, listen to me—" I looked up at him, desperate to get the truth out.

His palm cracked across my face before I could say another word.

"Geraldine just came to me in tears," he said, his voice shaking with barely contained fury. "She told me you two used to be the closest of friends. She said that even though you destroyed her, even though she has every right to hate you, she begged me not to hurt you anymore."

"She came here to free you. And you repay her by cutting her open?"

He turned to Geraldine, his expression murderous. "This time, I promise you. I won't let her off. She dies today."

"That's not what happened!" The words tore out of me. "Geraldine made it all up! She claims you removed her uterus? Fine—"

I seized the one point I could use. "Take her to the hospital. One examination and the truth comes out."

Crack.

Another slap, harder than the first. My vision blurred.

"She's already been mutilated because of you, and now you want to drag her to a hospital?" His voice was low and dangerous. "What's your plan? Rip open her scars and pour salt in them?"

Geraldine sobbed, clutching her bleeding arm. "Thaddeus, it's okay. Listen to her. Take me to the hospital. Let them examine me. Let them see whether I'm lying." Her voice broke on a hiccup. "I swear I would never deceive you the way Libby did."

Thaddeus pulled her close. "I believe you. I won't let this viper hurt you ever again. Not even a scratch."

He didn't give me another chance to speak. He bound me again, tighter this time, and sealed my mouth shut with tape. Then he draped a white cloth over me.

Within minutes, the temperature around me began to climb.

The incinerator. I was being wheeled toward the incinerator again.

"Libby Fletcher." His voice came from above, flat and final. "I'm going to burn you to ash."

He pulled the cloth away from my face. He wanted me to see it. The gaping mouth of the furnace, the heat shimmering in waves, my body inching closer on the conveyor with every passing second.